The Once and Future King

My years of running were finally at their end. The stage in Pittsburgh beckoned. My first solo show, and my first stadium show in three-and-a-half years. I was confident that I was going to be fine. In all of my stress, I stopped processing the media speculation around Kiia and me. I didn’t have the time to read all of the comments about the announcement that we were touring together. I didn’t have the bandwidth for anything other than my own demons.

I heard the faint echoes of Tony’s performance rumbling down the hallway to the green room. He sounded better than he had in a while. It could’ve been the sound team for this show, or he found a new inspiration in his performances.

I was leaning against a wall, while Kiia sat on a stool in front of me. For some reason I was braiding her hair before I went on. She asked me to do it, and who was I to say no?

Before I knew it, I had the call in my in-ears to start making my way out to the stage. Kevin had already gone ahead. For the visuals of the entrance to work the way we envisioned, he was going to start the set directly from an unlit stage. Kiia rose from the stool to walk with me to the stage.

We didn’t speak on the short walk down the tunnel. We just held hands and locked our steps together, creating a perfect harmony that echoed off the walls. I wanted to run away, even after everything, but I knew she wouldn’t let me.

At the end of the tunnel, we shared a kiss as the fifteen second light flashed.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” she said, smiling.

“Yeah,” I paused. “I love you, Kiia.”

“I love you, Cy,” her voice gave me the last encouragement I needed.

I stepped out onto the stage grabbing my white super strat from the stage hand. The blue spotlight bathed over me, painting my white denim jacket and pink leather pants in their glow. Security was already working hard as the crowd had their first surge to the front. The wave of cheers and screams was deafening, I hadn’t even made it to the microphone, and it felt like I was being asked for an encore.

As I reached the mic, I was waiting for the drum beat from Kevin to start playing Holy Grail, my breakout solo single. I closed my eyes longer than a blink before looking back to the side of the stage one last time. I couldn’t see her face, but making out Kiia’s outline, that she was there for me, gave me the ounce of strength I needed to be myself.

A moment later Kevin’s kick drum snapped through the stadium like a shotgun blast, and I struck the opening C# Minor chord, dripping with gain, sending a crackling electricity around the upper bowl. My voice came in just as strong at the verse, and the crowd surged again.

This felt different. On my first solo tours, my fans were eager and excited for me, but this audience was ravenous for anything I would give them. They sang along to every word as I moved through the setlist. The diehards hummed along to the guitar solos, knowing where every note was supposed to go.

I looked out to the crowd with only three originals left before the faux BTR reunion. I noticed some signs in the crowd with pictures of me and Kiia on them. I didn’t realize how stanned we were as a couple.

“Wow, Pittsburgh, you’ve been beautiful. Thank you so much for this warm welcome,” I paused to let another set of cheers through. “Sorry I haven’t talked to you yet tonight. I’ve just been nervous after so many years of not doing this.”

“Someday, I'll tell you all about why I’ve been on hiatus for so long, but that story’s a little too long for tonight,” I paused again to let the crowd devour that statement. “These next songs are all brand new, but this next one is called Autumn Hope.”

This was the ultimate test for me. The crowd couldn’t prop me up through a song they didn’t know. Each line took everything from me. This song carried the soul of what Kiia’s inspiration meant to me, and I couldn’t do that any injustice. I wrote the song to have a fade out guitar solo, and playing that tonight took so much from me.

I played through the bends and runs of it with as much hope as possible, thinking of Kiia with every beat. My playing had found a warmer sound after coming back. I hadn’t changed any equipment, so it was somewhere in how I fretted the notes.

As the song wrapped, the crowd gave its most overwhelming response yet. I didn’t feel like I deserved so much love. I couldn’t talk to them again. I dove immediately into the last two originals, trying to hold myself together as much as I could.

“Thank you very much,” I called out, fighting back the tears. “We’re going to do something really special for you in a second.”

The crowd noise spiked even higher at the idea of something special following that performance.

“So, for those who can’t see my friend behind the kit, that’s Kevin Silva…and I’d like to invite my good friend Tony Black to come join us,” I paused, allowing the crowd to process and react to what was happening in front of them. “And I would like you to give your warmest welcome to the love of my life, the incomparable Kiia Salo.”

At that point, I had to stop talking because the stage was shaking beneath my feet. I started to feel guilty that the people in the stadium wouldn’t have anything left for Ozean Horizon.

“This song hasn’t been played live in six years…This is my favorite Beyond the Realms song,” the noise swelled again, “When Angels Cry.” I knew no one heard my voice through the screams.

When the opening guitars came in, the stadium became silent, taking the time to appreciate the subtlety of such a soft and emotional piece. As the song was written, I sang through the opening verse with more love than I’d given the song before, but I swore people in the crowd passed out when Kiia’s voice came in during the pre-chorus. I could see Tony laughing out of the corner of my eye, not only did he get to enjoy her singing, but he didn’t have to work nearly as hard during this song for once.

Through the chorus our voices harmonized, creating an ethereal dread about losing someone you loved to addiction. I couldn’t wait to see videos of this on the internet, so I could appreciate Kiia’s contributions clearly.

As the last chord rang out through the stadium, we immediately shifted into the heavier opening riff to Prisoner. There were significantly less lyrics to this song, so Kiia and I were able to interact with each other how we did during Invisible. I cherished every chaotic moment of the performance, knowing that we only had a fleeting moment together on stage.

“Thank you so much, you have been beautiful. Please, give Ozean Horizon the rest of your love tonight,” were my parting words as we walked toward the tunnel.

Kevin and Tony disappeared way ahead of us. Unlike our previous interactions in a tunnel, there weren’t any dramatic or steamy kisses, just a couple holding hands and sharing quick kisses and affirmations as we found joy in music.