Band of Gold

Chapter 1

Shawn stood backstage, guitar strap across his chest, waiting to be called onto stage. The nerves and anxiety started to heighten. He swallowed hard and felt sweat beginning to build up. He searched for that familiar face in the crowd to reassure him, but there was no such face.

All he could see were strangers becoming impatient. He felt his throat beginning to close. Shawn closed his eyes and tried to center himself.

"You're almost on, kid." A voice said as he walked past.

Shawn felt faint. This was not good. The dizziness was setting in. There was only one thing left to do. He took his right hand, which was shaking and found the band of gold on his middle finger and began to spin it and slide it up and down his finger. He quickly began to feel a bit of strength. If only Charlie was in the crowd tonight like he was two years ago on this very night.

~2 years ago~

"That is a myth." Shawn said to his best friend, Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. "You are in denial, Mendes."

Shawn smirked as he shook his head. "It is totally possible."

Peter shook his head then turned to their other friend, TJ. "Teej, can you believe this shit?"

TJ chuckled then took a sip of his beer. "Let him live in a fantasy land. Who is he hurting?"

"Himself!" Peter shouted.

Shawn leaned in closer to Peter's ear. "There are plenty of songwriters that don't sing their songs. They simply write for others."

TJ sighed. "We are just looking out for you Shawn man. If you are serious about this music thing, you've got to get over this stage freight thing."

Shawn felt anxious just thinking about it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the bar owner introducing Open Mic night to the crowd. Everyone cheered and waited for someone to get the party started.

There was a bit of commotion at a table on the other side of the bar.

"Come on, Puth!" a voice shouted.

Many eyes, including Shawn's were drawn to the commotion on the other side of the bar.

It appeared that a friend was being pushed to perform first. Shawn would never forgive his friends if they pulled that on him.

Once the performer hit the stage, Shawn got a good look at him. He looked about 23/24, wild brown hair, t-shirt, jeans, converse and an open button down flannel shirt.

Shawn's mouth dropped open a bit. "Who is that?" he asked his friends.

Pete leaned in close. "That, my friend...is trouble."