Then There Was You(4)

“I never doubted you for a second,” I marveled, gently tucking a fallen strand of my curly, brown hair behind my ear.

Chris shook his head in awe and grabbed me again, encompassing me in his arms. “I’m so happy you’re here… so glad you came.”

I enjoyed the moment for a few more seconds, inhaling his keen and crisp masculine scent, then quickly pulled away to look him in the eyes. “I’m very proud of you, Chris.”

His eyes were glassy. “Thank you. That means everything to me,” he whispered.

“It was great to see you again,” I told him as I blinked back the tears that stung my own glassy eyes. “Can’t wait to see you on stage.”

We walked away, letting the next group of girls in line get their opportunity to meet him, but as we turned the corner, I began to wonder why seeing him again suddenly felt as though I’d ripped a Band-Aid off my soul.





The girls were too busy dancing and giggling through the arena to be concerned with the tempest of emotions that were swirling through my mind.

We were almost to the entrance of our section when a big, burly security guard stepped in front of us. “Ma’am, I’m gonna have to stop you right here.”

“What’s going on, sir?” I questioned, reaching for my tickets for proof that we belonged in that section.

“Mr. King didn’t want you to disappear without his autograph,” he answered, handing me a large manila envelope.

“Autograph?” Alexis asked, suspiciously eyeing the bulky package.

“Yes, ma’am,” the man said pointedly and walked away with a strange smile.

“Open it, Mom! See what it is!” Alexis bubbled with joy, her blue eyes glimmering with excitement.

Olivia clapped her hands excitedly. “Yeah, open it Mrs. Honeycutt!”

I tore open the package. Inside was a concert tour T-shirt, a small poster autographed by each band member, and four upgraded front row tickets down by the stage. Wrapped around the four tickets was a piece of paper with a hand written note from Chris.





I blinked a few times at the tickets in my hand. I’d never been on the front row at a concert before, however I’d seen views of it through my binoculars many times. I couldn’t imagine sitting so close that I could see the sweat beads on a singer’s forehead or reach out and touch him as he walked by me, but the tickets I held in my hand were about to change all that. Alexis and the girls were already freaking out. I held it together, even though I was turning cartwheels in my head.

We were ushered toward the front of the stage. The aisles were dark. Voices in the arena produced a steady roar around us. Seats filled quickly as the show was getting ready to start.

This is it! This was my moment to relive the moment that Chris sang for everyone in the cafeteria at Fairbanks. It was no secret that the kid had talent—gumption. I knew one day he’d follow his dreams straight to the top. I just never knew that I’d be sitting on the front row to witness it.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the crowd went wild chanting Chris’s name. It was so surreal.

I looked at Alexis who was giddy with excitement, bouncing on her feet and chanting along with them.

Clapping my hands above my head to the beat, I joined in, “Chris King! Chris King!” while I watched anxiously for his arrival.

After a few billowing puffs of fog, some elaborate laser effects, and a few skillful pyrotechnic tricks, the music began. The crowd sprang to its feet, clapping and screaming in anticipation of Chris. My heart pounded in my chest, and a rush of adrenaline shot through my veins the moment the lights shut down to total blackness on stage.

We all heard his voice before we saw him as he began one of his chart toppers. The low timbre of his voice rang out over the roar of the crowd. Just then, as if on cue, rising up from beneath the stage through a hole in the center, he slowly appeared while the spotlight zeroed in on him.

High pitched, piercing screams echoed throughout the arena. Girls clamored toward the stage for an opportunity to reach out and touch him. Alexis and her friends were no exception, jumping up and down, stretching their hands toward him as he made his way down stage.

“Ohmigod, Mom!” Alexis screeched. “This is so awesome!”

Chris’s voice was crystal clear, echoing through the microphone. He was scanning the crowd, watching his adoring fans as they bobbed and swayed with enjoyment. I could only imagine what the sea of faces looked like from his point of view.

I turned around to get a glimpse at the obscurity. Thousands of faces. It was beyond belief. Flashing lights from cell phone cameras twinkled like fireflies in the darkness. I imagined that to Chris, the sight was amazing and lonely at the same time—knowing his fans loved him, but never really knowing any of them.