Backstage

By Lisa Martin

Los Angeles
Summer 2004.

LA. I never thought I would enter that city again out of my own free will. It's the home of too many memories, good ones and a few bad ones. Anya and I moved here after our marriage, she wanted to get out of Sunnydale. I protested, but with a girl like Anya you can protest all you want, she gets her way anyhow. So I said goodbye to my place of birth and headed for the City of Angels. Things were great for a while, really great. We both found jobs fairly easily, had a decent place to live and were happy. Then she started making serious money. I knew of her playing the stock market, but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined she did it so well. That's when it started going downhill. Before that she had it all sorted out in her head, marriage, babies, live happily ever after, that sort of thing. I let her have her dreams, knowing things weren't that easy. Yet it was her who smashed them to pieces. Money was always important to her, but it became an obsession. She talked of nothing else, always going out to meet her 'contacts' or glued behind her state of the art designer computer to check her investments. I finally got fed up with it. After a particularly nasty fight, she ran out. I came home to an empty house the day after that. Only ever heard of her again through her lawyers. Which I gave hell all the way. I came out of it a good deal richer, but also broken into tiny little pieces. And where do you go when you feel like that? Exactly, home.

Yet here I am. It's only a visit, just two days, but it gives me the shivers none the less. It was a split second decision, made after seeing an ad in the paper. I haven't even told the others, just left a note saying I'm out of town for the weekend. Cell phone turned off, and I was free to go. You see, I've always liked music, it's been my comfort blanket since like forever. Country for the bad times, a little rock for the better ones. Can't hold a tune if my life depended on it, but that doesn't keep me from belting along. But there are songs that make me sit up and listen, really listen. And that's what happened. Two weeks ago I heard it on the radio, it has haunted me ever since. Can't get it out of my head. Not because it's such a catchy tune, it's a rock ballad, it's the lyrics that hit home for me. Why I can't figure out yet, I just know they do. So when I saw that the band that plays that song was coming to LA for a couple of concerts I took the phone and got myself a ticket.

Back story done, on to the present. I enter the hall where the concert will be and am immediately swallowed up by the crowd. It's a full house, not surprising, that particular song is well on its way on becoming a hit. It's a mixed crowd, varying from teenage girls to heavy metal fans. The atmosphere feels good, relaxed, but also a little hyped. Exactly as it should be.

I glance around, simply looking at all the different people out here. You can learn so much just by looking at people, the way they dress, the way they move, the way the hold themselves. I like doing it, another one of my favourite pastimes. Then my eyes fall on a very familiar figure. He stands out in the crowd, not only because of his height, but also because he's the only one who can pull that all black style off. Probably because he hasn't dressed differently for over a century. I grin as that thought crosses my mind, but sober immediately when another one follows it. What the hell is he doing here?? I stare at him and notice he's not alone. On his arm is a very attractive brunette, who smiles up at him. That very attractive brunette who used to be my girlfriend. A twitch of envy shoots through me, but I battle it down. That was years ago, we've moved on. But seriously, why him?? Standing on his other side, like a faithful shadow, is Wesley. Suddenly our eyes meet and I duck. I don't want them to see me. In doing so, I collide with someone. Turning around I stammer an apology.

"Sorry, didn't mean to."

He's huge. Black. Bald. And smiling. "Hey man, no problem. Someone you don't want to see?"

I grin back. "Not really, no."

"Strange how you always meet those people at places like this, isn't it?"

He wants to talk and I'm game. "Very strange," I sigh, rolling my eyes.

"But I can duck into the crowd, so I hope to be invisible for the rest of the night."

He laughs. "You alone?" Um..this is not what I think it is, isn't it? I nod slowly, carefully watching his face. "I'm here with some friends, maybe you care to duck there?"

I open my mouth to say thanks, but no thanks, when a young woman comes to stand beside him. She looks at me, shyly and with a small smile. She's pretty. "Hi."

"Hi. Friend?" She looks up at the man beside her.

"Just met the guy. "He turns to me again. "I'm Charles Gunn, everyone calls me Gunn. And this is Fred."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Alexander." And what makes me mention my full name to him? Damned if I know. We don't get a chance to talk some more, the music starts and the crowd goes wild. I shout and yell along with it, feeling like a high school kid again. The band starts with some heavier stuff and I discover I like that too. Then the familiar tune starts. One of the band members moves up to the front of the stage and my breath catches in my throat. It can't be! Yet it is.

His eyes scan the crowd, clearly searching for someone. I don't have to wreck my brain to know who that someone is. I look at him, that tall figure some 30 feet away from me. He stares, their eyes meeting and holding. Then it hits. The reason why this song touches me the way it does. It's about Buffy.

In the dead of night
When everything is quiet
So quiet it reminds you of death
I'm still wide awake
Hunched over a glass
And my thirst is still too great

There is one sort of happiness
That never can be drowned
She won't leave me alone
It's late and
It will forever be that way
So I will take this last drink

Drink to my heart
That will burn forever
For what it desires
What it desires
From love and drink

 

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