October 26th, 1971

    As it always did, being backstage before the show brought me a mix of contradicting feelings, and tonight’s emotional cocktail could have rivalled a Long Island iced tea. I was extremely proud of what the band had been able to accomplish with the first show of the tour, and I was hopeful and excited that the great reception would carry over into the rest of the dates.
    Yet at the same time, my joy was muddled with reluctance to leave Vancouver— and Mark— tomorrow, and sadness at the inevitability of doing so. Despite my mixed emotions, I had enjoyed Amoeba’s Canadian debut last night and the band had delivered a searing performance that I was sure they would repeat tonight.
    With the stage manager’s signal given, the band hurried off onto the stage and revelled in the crowd’s howl of excitement. I was glad that Mark had accepted our invitation to attend tonight’s show, and even more so when he had shown up looking extremely casual and relaxed.
    “Is the crowd always like this?” he asked with a laugh. The audience’s loud excitement had ceased instantaneously, only to be replaced with the hard thud of Lee’s bass guitar.
    "Quite nearly," I answered with a proud smile. "And you? How often do you go out dressed like that?"
    Mark glanced down at his outfit. "It's not bad, is it?" he asked worriedly.
    "No," I assured him. His jeans looked almost brand new, and coupled with his sneakers and branded t-shirt, he didn't look much different from any of the other male attendees. "You look incredibly nondescript."
    With that settled, I took a seat on one at one of the tables while Mark brought each of us a beer. The four members of the opening band meandered around the large dressing room without more than the occasional nod to any of us. I assumed they were firmly stuck between subdued awe at opening for an international act, and enthusiastic excitement at having a dressing room to make use of. Regardless, I didn’t speak much to any of them, as the opening band would be different for each of the five provinces we were to play in.
    “Which tune is it that has the drum solo?”
    Mark’s question brought me back to the moment I was in and I barely paused to think. “They rotate the solos every couple of weeks,” I told him.
    “Which was it, last night?” he pressed. "I quite enjoyed that one."
    “Patterned Kind," I informed him, before his words registered in my mind. "You were here last night?"
    Mark nodded happily and anticipated my next question. "I wanted to see what they're like, so I bought a ticket and got in line."
    “You went over my head!” I frowned playfully.
    “Not exactly,” he amended with a wink. “I went over to the ticket booth.” We both laughed, and I asked what he thought of the show. “It was great! Though, I was sure the walls would cave in with all the excitement,” he added as an afterthought.
    “They’ve been decimating every venue!” I laughed. “I’m really proud of them. They’re fine musicians and I’m glad with the reception the band’s been getting.”
    “They’re fine men, too.” Mark met my gaze and smiled at me. “I’m happy for you, Emily.”
    I opened my mouth to speak, but Mark kept talking.
    “He would move mountains for you, you know.”
    “Cameron?” I mumbled, though I had no doubt who he was speaking of.
    Mark nodded. “The others too, but maybe they’d settle for a large hill,” he chuckled. “Cameron would move the Rockies to make you smile.”
    I glanced around the room, shyly hoping no one was in earshot. “I’d do the same for him.”
    “I know,” Mark said, his voice as low as mine. “And so does Cameron. You don’t move across the ocean to another continent for just anyone,” he added.
    A thought came into my mind, and I blurted it out before I could stop myself. “I wasn’t aware the guys would move big hills for me."
    Mark huffed in amusement. "Of course they would. How long have you been on the tour with them?"
    "Combined? Probably eight months so far, between last year and now."
    "Listen, Emily," he began, "I've been doing this job for nearly seven years now. I've seen a lot of bands and a lot of girlfriends who get lost in the shuffle, or decide they don't want to be on the road. Last year I had a group from New York disband right in front of me because one of the girls gave her man an ultimatum, and he chose her over them." Mark's gaze was intense, but I didn't look away from him. "You wouldn't do that, I know you."
    "Of course I wouldn't," I interjected. "Cameron's loved music longer than he's loved me."
    "That has nothing to do with it. But either way, those guys know you can handle it, and that you will, and they respect you for it."
    I hummed in thought, and scolded myself for not having realized this myself.
    Mark stood and grabbed his empty glass. "Want to know something else?"
    "What would that be?" I asked, looking up at him.
    "If you asked him to choose, he'd choose you. It says a lot about your love for him that you aren't asking."


    After the band had finished their set and exited the stage, we loitered in the dressing room for an hour or so. My heart tugged uncomfortably when we got the signal to head back to the hotel, and I realized I wouldn’t see Mark tomorrow.
    I started to walk towards him with the intention of speaking with him for another moment, though I didn’t know what exactly I would say. Mark was already speaking, though, giving the band a hearty congratulations on a successful start to the tour.
    “From the looks of it, you guys will leave the country in rubble by the time you head back to Scotland!”
    “That’s the plan,” Dale replied quickly, a smile on his face.
    Cameron shook Mark’s hand, and I saw what Mark had been telling me earlier. “Thank you for everything, Mark, truly. You’re a good man.”
    “I appreciate that, but it’s been my pleasure entirely.” Mark spoke in such a tone that made his statement undeniable. He turned towards me and pulled me into his arms for a long hug before speaking next, though this time in barely a whisper. “It made my year to see you again, Emily.”
    I closed my eyes and stayed in his embrace for as long as I could, until he slowly peeled himself away from me. “Me too, Mark.” I forced a smile, though I doubted it was convincing.
    “Say hello to your sister for me, and keep me updated. I’ll be expecting letters,” he added firmly, though his smile was genuine.
    “I’ve got your address, don’t worry,” I assured him. I barely noticed the band staring at us, but I knew they were.
    “You’re off to Calgary in the morning?” he asked me, though he was well aware of our schedule.
    I nodded.
    “Keep her in check, guys,” Mark said to the band, though his gaze didn’t move from my face. “And stay safe.”