The Sauna Part 271

The Telstra Dome was charged with excitement when we arrived and I had never seen quite so many banners in the audience as I saw proudly displayed tonight. The warm up band had gotten the crowd ready and the screams from the stadium were deafening as the guys hit the stage. When the spotlight suddenly illuminated Jon’s tiny form off in the distance, the clamour rose even louder and I could barely hear the opening notes of “Last Man Standing”.

I smiled at Richie and he grinned back as we watched Jim peering out into the sea of shining faces for the first time. I remembered my first experience with being on stage and how different it was compared to being a spectator in the crowd. Jim had the opportunity to see it all now from the perspective of the guys themselves and I could see he was almost as star struck as I was the first time.

“Hey, Trish! C’mere! Grab your camera!” Jim called as I hurried over to where he was standing.

“I didn’t bring the camera. What is it?” I asked, following the line from where he was pointing.

There, in the front row, were two girls dressed up as giant smirks! I grinned at the girls, acknowledging that they were true fans, and I signaled to the photographer that always accompanied the band. He nodded and indicated he’d already gotten some shots of them.

“I’m guessing they’re radio contest winners. They’ll probably be at the after party” I shouted to Jim and he nodded, shaking his head.

Eventually Jon made his way through the crowd and back to the stage, flashing that megawatt smile at both Jim and I as he sprinted past us. He was having a ball, scampering back and forth along catwalks and dancing on stage and bantering with the audience.

“What a rush!” Jim exclaimed as he watched Jon and Richie as they interacted with the fans.

When Jon launched into an electrifying rendition of “It’s My Life”, the crowd exploded and Jim felt himself becoming caught up in the fervor as thousands of fists pumped the air, echoing the chorus right back at Jon. I noticed that Jim was singing along too and I had to laugh. For someone who’d never professed to be a big fan, he sure could have fooled me. Jon and the guys had just won a new convert.

Jim saw me watching him and he shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It’s hard not to like this band, he thought to himself. He’d never disliked their music, except when I’d played the same songs over and over, but he’d never even considered buying an album. Damn, these guys are good. They really kick ass and they get the crowd moving and keep ’em going. I can see what inspires people to follow them.

I knew Jim was just realizing what I’d already learned to appreciate some time ago. I smiled as I glanced over at the guys and watched while Jon wiggled his ass at the crowd. These guys knew how to have fun and they loved what they did and it showed. I’d heard the oft-quoted remarks about how they couldn’t believe they got paid for this job and how Jon wouldn’t have traded places with the president. It was all true. While touring might be grueling, the on-stage performance was intoxicating and it drove them faster and farther than most bands ever dreamed. The money was great, but the music was better. It’s all about the music, I smiled to myself.

By the end of the show, Jon was drenched with sweat despite having changed his clothes on three separate occasions and he was on a true adrenalin high as he bounded off the stage directly toward me. He stopped long enough to sweep me into his arms before carrying me off to a secluded spot in back of the stage.

“I love the stadium gigs! I needed this, babe” he breathed and I nodded.

Jon seemed to draw energy directly from the crowd and he’d needed a big show to refuel after the lackluster performance in Portugal. The chaos at Backstage and his confrontation with his mother had drained his reserves and both he and the fans had needed a spectacular show. I’d seen one or two banners that I couldn’t quite read, but I thought I’d seen one that mentioned Backstage and I prayed that the problems there wouldn’t get played out by the audience.

“Jon, you were amazing and the show was tremendous, but I did see a banner…” I began, knowing he must have seen it too.

“I saw the one that you mean, but it wasn’t about the Fan Club, Trish. It said ‘Invite us Backstage-We’ll surprise you’ and I do believe it was aimed at Richie” he laughed.

“Oh, thank Goddess! I thought …” I started but Jon interrupted.

“I know, so did I, but when I was out on the catwalk I got a better look. Don’t worry, doll. Backstage will be back and Bon Jovi fans are the best-they’re very forgiving” he grinned and I relaxed.

“How did you know the banner was meant for Richie and not you?” I wondered suddenly.

“Because I walked right up in front of the two girls holding the banner and they still screamed for Richie” he smirked.

“Are you going to tell him?” I asked, quirking my eyebrows.

“Hell, no! He’ll preen like a peacock if he hears that they snubbed me!” Jon teased.


***************


“Hey, where’s the Kidd?” Richie shouted.

“You mean Jon? He disappeared into the shadows with Trish and I’m not interrupting that, my man” Jim replied.

“Aaawww, hell, where’s your sense of fun and adventure?” Richie beamed as he grabbed Jim’s arm and dragged him along.

“Hey, are you two gonna join us or keep makin’ out in the shadows?” Richie needled us as he rounded the corner.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re comin’. What’s the rush?” Jon wondered.

“We’re all waitin’ on you, man. Let’s go, there’s a party, remember?” Richie said as he bustled us out of the stadium and into the limo.

The guys all headed up to their rooms to take quick showers while Jim and I headed down to the banquet facility to wait. We soon discovered the reason why the hotel had run out of Pavlova at dinner. There, amid all the hors d’oeuvres, were two huge Pavlovas, one covered with kiwis and strawberries while the other looked to be chocolate or mocha flavored. I started laughing, but that didn’t stop me from helping myself to a large helping of the meringue laden treat and Jim did the same. I was munching away on my second helping of the delicious confection when Richie showed up, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Shit! That’s why they ran out at dinner!” he chuckled.

“Damn, this shit’s good!” Jim said as he went for a another piece too.

“Richie, can you make this? Have you got a recipe?” I mumbled, taking another bite just as Jon arrived, followed by Tico.

“It’s addicting, huh?” Richie agreed, prompting Jon and Tico to both take a slice after they realized what we were raving about.

We were all gathered around the banquet table when Hugh and David joined the party and David groaned as soon as he saw it.

“Seriously, man, try this stuff. At least there’s plenty to share now” Jon encouraged as he sneered at Richie and me.

I almost felt guilty for not sharing the piece Richie and I had split earlier, but the stuff was so good that I got over my shame rather quickly. We were all stuffing our faces when I nearly split a gut laughing. They all stopped chewing and looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Holy crap! Listen! Don’t you hear what song that is that they’re playing?” I sputtered.

Everyone listened intently, but only Richie and Jim understood the joke and began chuckling softly. No one had paid much attention when Richie started his culinary history lesson at dinner and they had all tuned him out, except me and Jim. The others had missed the entire story of where the name came from. Pavlova was named after Anna Pavlova, the Russian ballerina for whom it was created, in 1926 in New Zealand. The song that was playing was one of ABBA’s greatest hits, “Dancing Queen”.

“It’s the Ode to Pavlova” I giggled as Richie and I began singing a duet to the music.

I grabbed my plate and held it aloft while Richie got down on one knee and began improvising the lyrics when I started laughing too hard to continue. The look on Jon’s face was beyond priceless as he stood there and stared, totally clueless, as Richie continued serenading me and the cake:

You are the pastry queen, rich and sweet, only made of cream
Pastry queen, feel the beat from the mix machine
You aren’t cake, you aren’t torte, tasting’s the time of my life
See that mousse, watch that fruit, dig in the pastry queen

I was beside myself now, with tears streaming down my face, and even Richie was having trouble singing as he tried to choke back his glee. I handed my plate off to Jim and nearly tripped over Jon as I attempted a rather amateur pirouette before finally collapsing on the floor next to Richie as we dissolved in a fit of hysterical giggles.

My sides hurt and I could barely breathe, but Jon’s consternation kept egging me on and the laughter had become rather contagious. Even the others at the party who had no idea what any of this was about began laughing and giggling while Jon stood there looking stunned. It was unlike me to act quite this goofy, but something about Richie seemed to provoke it. As the laughter subsided, Jon gave me his hand to help me off the floor, shaking his head.

“What on earth got into you?” he whispered into my ear.

“I have no idea but you can blame it on Richie” I laughed, thinking that was probably the first and last time I would ever attract more attention than Jon.

The remainder of the after-party seemed rather anti-climatic after that, but I did manage to get a few pictures of the guys with the two female “smirks” to pacify Jim. They had won a radio contest for tickets and they were simply beside themselves with delight at getting to meet all the guys. The party wound down and Jon and I made our escape as soon as it appeared seemly and headed back to our room for a more private celebration.