"...back just him..."
The auditorium remained quiet as the hum of the final letter and the hum of the final chord locked together, carried each other, and faded together.
Gene couldn’t see for the spotlight, and even when it turned off, its glow lingered in his eyes. But he could hear the applause - specifically, he could hear Emily’s whistle, and her voice shouting, "WHOO-HOO!!!" And he could feel the figurative warmth of the audience, its collective arms reaching out to embrace him.
He remembered what she told him yesterday: "I can’t be your everything, but I can be your most everything." So not everything, but a part of everything. He pushed the guitar onto his back, pulled off the wig and the bandana, and held them awkwardly in front of himself. He smiled, nervous, bowed, and slowly backed offstage, as the spotlight faded.
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