Falling Away
chapter eighteen: you've got so much love locked up inside you
-
"Name?"
"Uh," Mia said, fidgeting. "Mia Renaldo." The security guard looked down the list, an eyebrow raised.
"Your name isn't on the list."
"What?" Mia asked, a bemused look on her face. "Are you sure?" She nervously played with the present in her hands.
"Sure as pecan pie," He replied, chuckling.
"B-But…Michael said he would put me on the list," Mia said, murmuring to herself more than to Zac, or at least that's what his nametag said.
"Michael who?" Mia blushed.
"Mi—" She paused and suddenly there was someone behind Zac.
"Michael!" She said, almost bursting with relief.
"Is there a problem here, Zachary?" Michael asked with a smile.
"Girlie here ain't on the list," Zac said, a bored look on his ruddy face.
"You sure? I'm almost definitely sure I added 'Mia Thermopolis' onto the list."
"Mia Thermopolis?" Zac said, confused. "This girlie says she's Mia Renuto."
"Renaldo," Mia corrected. "Mia Renaldo."
"Oh, my mistake," Zac said in a superior voice. "Mia Renaldo. Mia Renaldo here says she's on the list, but she ain't."
"Let her in," Michael said in a bossy voice that nearly made Mia's knees turn into jello.
"Fine, fine," Zac said, rolling her eyes. "I don't want no trouble." He stood aside and with a small smile, Mia walked past Zac and followed Michael backstage.
"So," Michael said, turning to Mia. "Since when do you go by Renaldo?"
"Since college," Mia said. "Grandmere figured it was best if I went by my father's last name when I went to France."
"Oh, interesting," Michael said with a nod. "Well, I'll introduce you to the others."
"Okay," Mia said. She suddenly remembered the wrapped gift in her hands. "Uh, wait. Michael. I have something to give you." Michael looked down at the present in her hands and smiled.
"Something for me?" Michael said, his head tilted. "You shouldn't have."
Really. She shouldn't have.
"Oh, um, well, it's just something I picked up in Barney's the day we bumped into each other," Mia said, her eyes on the gift, which was wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper. She handed him the gift. "Happy Birthday." He looked at her, confused at first.
"Holy shit," Michael said, his eyes wide. "It's my birthday."
"Um, yeah?"
"It's just…The band and I've been so busy that I forgot about my own fucking birthday." Michael was amazed. He had lived for stuff like his birthday when he had been younger. And now he let it slip by until it was nearly over.
"And you lied! Lies, lies…"
"I did?" Mia asked.
"Indeed. Something for your grandma?"
"Oh, right," Mia said, blushing.
"Well, thank you for the gift. He smiled warmly before peering down at the present and carefully peeling off the wrapping paper. His gift was in, who would've thunk it, a Barneys box. He set the wrapping paper down before opening the box and gasping softly.
"Wow," Michael said, running his fingers along the fabric of the blazer.
"It's just that I, well, I saw it and thought, 'Wow, that just screams Michael!' so I got it and I really did think it looked like it was made for you you know what I mean and it was just so beautiful and I just had to get it," Mia said, her cheeks redder than they had been in a long, long time.
"Thank you," Michael said. "I'll wear it while we perform. It's…perfect."
"Oh," Mia said. "Oh. I'm glad that you like it."
"I love it, Mia," Michael said, grinning broadly. "I really do. Thanks." He set the box down and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her. Mia felt her whole body tense as she was enveloped with the scent of Michael, the warmth of his body colliding with hers. He smelled so nice, like Ivory soap, that she nearly kissed his neck, though that would've been sort of strange. Instead, she settled with his neck write in her face, his hair gently brushing against her face. When he stepped back, Mia felt so, so, disappointed.
He then picked the blazer up from out of the box and slipped it on. It looked even better on him than it had by itself.
"See? Perfect," Michael said, a bright smile on his face. All Mia wanted to do at that moment was lean forward and kiss him. She refrained, though hesitantly.
"Yeah," Mia said, looking up into Michael's peat bog eyes. "Perfect."
-
"Show starts in five," Warren said, popping his head into the dressing room once again. A confused look appeared on his face when he saw Mia sitting beside Michael, a scowl of Shayne's face. "Who's the broad?" Kristen glared at Warren.
"Warren. You may as well have called her a fucking chick," Kristen said bitingly. "Honestly."
The band had been sitting around in the dressing room as usual. The moment Max saw Mia enter the room with Michael, he whispered out of the side of his mouth to David, "I guess we're going to have to cancel the stripper." The band had yet to say anything about Michael's birthday because, of course, they had a surprise lined up during the show. Not even Warren knew about it.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Warren said, rolling his dull, dark eyes. "Who is she, anyway?" Before Michael could open his mouth to respond, Mia rose from the couch she had been sitting down and quickly strode over to Warren, extending her hand out to him.
"I'm Princess Amelia of Genovia," Mia said, the biggest smile she could manage on her face. "But most people just call me Mia." Good thing she couldn't see Shayne at that moment, as she was mocking Mia, mouthing what she had just said in a mocking way as Kristen chuckled.
"Well, well, we've got royalty," Warren said, the closet thing to a smile on his face. More of a trace of a smile. A smirk, even. "Welcome, Princess Amelia." He then turned to the bandmates. "Get your asses out there and support your Ar-Kansas friends. Okay?"
"Uh huh, whatever, Warry," Shayne said, heading toward the door with Max and Kristen right behind her.
"I, uh…I need to go talk to Kate. You know where she is, Warren?" David asked from the chair he was sitting on.
"She's out by the front," Warren said. "She's talking with Jenna."
"J-Jenna?" David asked, noticeably gulping. His girlfriend, Jenna, was there?
"Yeah. You know. You're girlfriend?"
"Right," David said. He got up from his seat and quickly followed after Shayne and the others.
"What about you, Mike?" Warren said. "You and the Princess going out. Or, uh, shall I leave you two alone?" He flashed Michael a knowing look that made Mia squirm.
"No, no," Michael said. "We're going out too."
"Okay, I'll see you all out there." He left promptly. Michael turned to Mia, that ever-present grin on his face. The same smile that made Mia swoon every time he showed it to her, whether he be happy or just amused at something she said or did. It was an amazing smile that made her heart tug in the best possibly way, as tacky as that may have sounded.
"Ready to go?" Michael asked. "Do you want a drink or something?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Okay. Let's go, then."
-
The Fuzzy Unicorns, the opening act, were nothing like Mia had expected. They were a dancing band, as in they played pretty, dreamy rock music but also had a couple of people that danced: a tap dancer (he danced along with the drums) and an interpretive dancer. They also had both a ukulele player and a tambourine player, nine people in the band overall. They sang about drunken children and lambs that didn't eat ham. There motto, their signature saying, was "We put the FU back in fun!" for Bob's sake.
Fifteen minutes before The Fuzzy Unicorns' set was to end, Mission for Recognition found each other and headed backstage. They had just about enough time, including the time after the Fuzzy Unicorns' set to fancy themselves up and tune their instruments. Oh, and to get as drunk as possible, of course.
"God, I'm so nervous," Shayne said, tipping beer into her mouth. Kristen nodded, applying more eyeliner than was necessary as Max watched in fascination. He had taken much less time to apply his makeup than Kristen was taking, though he only put on eyeliner and some lipgloss.
"Hey, Mia, do you want to watch from the side stage or go out into the audience? I'm sure Zac can push past people if you want to get up front," Michael said, buttoning and unbuttoning the top button of his blazer repeatedly. She could tell that he was pretty nervous as well, though she wondered why. Mia had already seen Michael perform onstage twice and both times he had appeared cool and confident.
"Nervous?" Mia said, taking her cherry chapstick out from one of the pockets in her blazer. She noticed him staring at her lips as she slowly applied it.
"N-No," Michael said, stuttering. Lies.
"You sure?" Mia said, a coy smile tugging at her lips.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine," Michael said, looking down.
"Okay. I think I'll go out into the audience. It might give me a more real concert experience, you know?"
"Yeah, sounds rad," Michael said, clearing his throat. He mentally shouted at himself. He was so bad at lying. He was nervous as hell and he didn't know if he'd be able to get through the night sober. He was anything but calm. So fidgety he was at the thought. The crowd was large. Large crowds always made him somewhat jittery.
"We are the Fuzzy Unicorns," said one of two singers for the eclectic band. "We'd just like to thank Mission for Recognition for taking us out on this tour. And, uh, they'll be on really soon. So, um, thanks!" Michael heard the audience applaud and holler occasionally. But it was pretty obvious even just hearing them. They were waiting for Mission for Recognition to take the stage.
"Okay, Mia, you should go out there now," Michael said. "And, well, I guess I'll talk to you after the show." He awkwardly took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Mia felt taken back by the subtly affectionate gesture. She nodded and waved goodbye, walking out from backstage.
Mia noticed that the venue was, there were no other word for it, pretty. It wasn't dirty like many other venues in New York but seemed strangely clean. Shimmering chandeliers hung overhead, providing light. They dimmed once performers stepped onstage. She soon reached the audience and gently pushed her way to the front.
"Step off, bitch," said one particularly feisty man she pushed away.
"Oh, sorry."
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" said another concert-goer with a Mission for Recognition shirt on. That guy.
"Sorry, sorry."
She eventually made her way to the front, to the anger of many. She managed to get a relatively good spot, near the front. She was near enough that Michael would be able to see her.
"OMIGOD! I can't believe we're at a Mission for Recognition show, Tif!" screamed a girl that appeared to be about thirteen, at most. "Michael Z is sooo hot. Gawd, I so dare you to shout that you want to fuck him when they get on stage. Seriously."
"Nooooo. Gawd, I could never do that. He'd think I'm some kind of freak, even if I do want to do him," The girl beside her responded. They began giggling. Both girls were wearing obscene amounts of body glitter, which made Mia cringe. Tiffany, Mia noticed, was also wearing a hot pink shirt that said in bold black letters, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MICHAEL!
"Aren't you two a little young to be thinking about fucking someone. And, of all people, Michael Z?" A guy that stood close to them said.
"Dude, I so lost my virginity last year so I don't think you should be saying shit about how we're too young to be talking about fucking, mmkay? Gawd. Eavesdropper." At being so rudely talked to, the guy turned away and resumed talking to a girl with blue hair and multiple piercings.
What a crowd.
A few minutes later her spirits lifted when she saw Shayne and Max walk onstage. The crowd, noticing this, cheered loudly. "I love you, Shayne!" some random girl shouted. Shayne walked to a microphone, a smile on her face. "I love you too!" She said cheerfully, looking much different than she had in the dressing room. Happier. She wore a "Free Winona" shirt, which was exposed as she slipped off her coat and threw it out into the crowd. A man five feet behind Mia caught it and immediately snuggled against it.
Next onstage appeared Kristen, followed soon by David. No Michael. Kristen sat behind her drums, biting her lower lip in a perfectly sweet, innocent way. She waved to Mia from behind her drums enthusiastically. Mia just as enthusiastically waved back.
The band began setting up their instruments, a microphone checker saying, "Uno, dos, tres, catorce!" into each one to make sure they were full-functioning. Still no Michael. After a few minutes passed, the band began playing the introduction to "Live Like You Mean It." They had been playing the song live for quite some time so it was familiar to many, though it wasn't on the album. An eruption of whoops and cheers filled the air.
Just a few seconds before Michael was supposed to sing the first line in the song, one of their most popular, he ran out onto the stage at an alarmingly fast speed and ran right into Max, who seemed surprised but laughed. As soon as the crowd saw Michael, the cheers grew much louder. Michael walked over to his microphone, looking like he was limping almost and belted out the first line with his signature growly voice.
I want to pick you up and dust you offI want to take you down and dress you up
And we will drink, and drink, and drink
Drink, drink, drink, drink it up
One hundred bands, one thousand love affairs
Half-empty halls and folding chairs
And the best ever guitar parts are made for broken hearts
Shayne began singing along in her raspy voice.
The records we could make and breakThe Hell that we could raise, for Heaven's sake
There's so much you could feel if you
Live like you mean it
Live like you mean it
Max played the universally loved guitar solo he had in the song, playing it with more enthusiasm than he had ever had before. He played with such flair, such energy. It was so hard to keep your eyes off him. He was that good.
The records we could make and breakThe Hell that we could raise, for Heaven's sake
There's so much you could feel if you
Live like you mean it
Live like you mean itThe second the band stopped playing, the audience went crazy. Mia had felt several people bumping into her throughout the song and when she had turned around, she had been amazed to see so many people dancing along. She hadn't ever really deemed Mission for Recognition's music dancey but she supposed it was in a way. Maybe.
"Shut up, you fuckers!" Michael shouted playfully. The people around her laughed, as if what he had just said was the funniest thing they had ever heard. Ever. But, at the request of Michael Z, the crowd quieted down considerably.
"So, what did you all think of the Fuzzy Unicorns?" Michael said into the microphone, an almost creepy grin on his face.
"Fucking amazing!" screamed the guy that Mia recognized as one of the singers in the Fuzzy Unicorns.
"Eh, they were all right," Shayne said into her microphone.
"Hey, Michael!" yelled a female voice in the back.
"Mm, yes?" Michael said, running a hand through his hair.
"I WANNA FUCK YOU!"
"Really? Take a number, will you?" Michael's cockiness onstage made Mia wonder where it came from.
Michael turned his head and mouthed, "Darkest rose" to his bandmates.
He turned back, facing the audience. They watched in anticipation of what was coming next. The audience members that were seeing MfR for the first time were shocked at was happening at the show. Surely they couldn't have expected what was happening. The MfR show veterans knew what to expect but even they were surprised sometimes. Michael Z was unpredictable like that.
"This song is dedicated to…people," Michael whispered loudly into his microphone. "It's a song about…unrequited love." He took his microphone off of the stand and began walking around the stage, circling his bandmates. "I'd like to dedicate this song to Gwen Brody." Several boos rang out around the room, mostly from the female audience. "I'd like to dedicate this song to Kate Harlow. This song is dedicated to Ben Tyler, our lovely fan club president. This song is dedicated to Professor Snape. This song is dedicated to…" He finally looked into the audience and the first person he saw, the only person that mattered, was her.
"You…" Mia nearly stopped breathing when she found Michael's eyes on her. She then realized the word was the beginning to "Darkest Rose," her favorite Mission for Recognition song.
"…are never dead when you're dead. You're never dead when you're sleeping. You make it so hard to love but not impossible. Never impossible…" Mia was unaware of the people around her, the people in front of her. All she cared about, all she could focus on was Michael singing seemingly to her. He kept his eyes on her, never breaking their eye contact. It sent chills up Mia's spine, the way he was looking at her. He looked like he was in love with her.
"If your eyes should ever rain, I'll be the one to catch your tears."
And she knew he meant it.
A couple of songs later, right after their surprise performance of Color Me Badd's "I Wanna Sex You Up" Michael opened his mouth to address the crowd. But before he could say anything, Max interrupted him.
"As you may all know," He said, smiling. "Today is our little Mikey's twenty-fifth birthday! Woo." The crowd cheered more than was necessary. Michael gave Max a confused look and Max simply waved him off.
"So, this is the time to sing him 'Happy Birthday'! On the count of 1…2…3!"
The volume of the crowd's drunken singing caught Michael off-guard.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR FUCKIN' HOT MICHAEL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!"
"You look like a monkey and you smell like one too," Max whispered into the microphone, grinning jubilantly.
"Um, thanks, everyone," Michael said, Mia noticing how completely red he was. Michael blushing? He never blushed. Absolutely never. Only, of course, when he was put on the spot. Then he blushed.
"That's not all, Mikey Z!" Kristen chirped into her microphone, her head cocked. "We got you GIFTS!"
"Gifts?" Michael said, suddenly looking pleased.
They all, excluding Michael, went backstage and soon returned with, sure enough, wrapped presents.
Kristen gave hers to Michael first, saying in a baby face, "Now who's my favowite birthday bwoy! YOU ARE!" She pinched his cheeks in a very grandmotherly fashion. Michael swatted her gently, biting his lip. He opened the present and smiled when he saw the Tickle-Me-Elmo Kristen had given him. He walked over to his microphone and squeezed the Elmo. He let out an automated giggle that was louder than was natural.
"Thanks, Kristen," Michael said. "I'll keep him close to me at all times."
"Ooh, ooh! Me next! Me next!" Max exclaimed, pushing past Shayne, who glared at him menacingly. He shoved his gift into Michael's arms with a giggle and proceeded to run into Kristen. Michael quickly unwrapped the present.
"A hair straightener?" Michael said, confused.
"The band and I thought it was about time you started straightening your hair," Max said loudly. "It sucks!" The audience, as any normal audience was, stood, bemused.
"WHAT? My hair is fucking awesome, dude," Michael said, rolling his eyes.
It was going to be a long night.
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah…it's just that it's getting late and…" Mia said, though she would've given anything to stay, to just be near Michael. But if she stayed any longer, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to control herself. She paused, searching for an answer. They stood backstage in the dressing room while the other Mission for Recognition band members stood out front, near the merch table. Kate had been manning the tables all night while Jenna, David's girlfriend, stood nearby. They had managed not to see each other though, oddly.
"I'd really like you to stay," He spoke softly in a very familiar voice, the voice he had used the night they had their true feelings for each other six long years ago. "Are you sure you can't stay?"
"Yes. I'm really sorry, Michael," Mia said, her eyes downcast. "I'd stay if I could."
"I know," He said and with this, he took both of her hands in his. Mia slowly looked up and melted at the look on his face, the look that suggested she'd do something else, not leave.
"I…I…" Mia began but before she could continue, Michael had stepped forward, bending his head down. His lips met hers in perfection. Slow, soft perfection. It felt even better now than it had just days before because she wasn't attached now, there were barely any guilty feelings holding her down.
Mia put her hand on the back of Michael's neck, deepening the kiss. His hands ran up the length of her body, meeting her blonde hair. Several moments later, Michael pulled away from the kiss, though reluctantly.
"Come with us," He gasped, lip gloss smeared all over his mouth and chin.
"What?"
"Come with us. On tour. Come with us," Michael said. "Please, Mia. I couldn't stand being away from you for so long. Please say you'll come with us."
Before she could control herself, she said the words Michael wanted to hear.
"Okay. I'll go out on tour with you. But how would that work? Where would I sleep?" He looked her straight in the eye.
"With me."
I'll be damned if that didn't have any sexual undertones.
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a/n: The song "Live Like You Mean It" is actually by a very wonderful band called The New Trust. You should go check them out, along with The Velvet Teen.