Sincerely Stockholm

Chapter One: Heathrow to Arlanda.

As Damianne slipped down into the back of her first class seat, she tried to get cozy and settle her mixed feelings about flying on a commercial airline again. You see Damianne Beauty, or Dame, as she is known universally, is just no ordinary twenty-six year old first-class travelling Brit. Dame is a recording sensation as well as the former lead singer for the world renowned band that carries her name. Flying to Stockholm with the masses is actually a bit of a novelty for Dame. Her once average life became absolute madness, right after DAME the group's debut hit single dropped five years ago. Ever since, Dame has been on a treadmill of continuous recording sessions, interviews, promotional appearances not to mention a relentless wave of concert tours and festival dates. And when the group's popularity went interstellar, she became the undeniable focal point and fan favourite of DAME the band, with Dame the person becoming a public obsession.

So part of her anxiety was dealing with the real possibility of being mobbed by adoring fans while attempting to inconspicuously slip through Heathrow. Luckily the airport security escorted her from the first-class lounge onto the plane without too much attention. But, just as Dame thought she was getting to Scandinavia undetected, the flight attendant turned full-on fan boy. Dame couldn't help but notice his trembling wrist as he placed down her cocktail of choice: Elderflower cordial, Watenshi gin, lychee juice, lemon bitters with chilled champagne served in a fluted crystal glass. While the steward didn't verbally tip off his adoration, the sweat beading over his top lip gave him away. That and the hastily crafted small novel he penned over not one, but two cocktail napkins. "Dame, I adore you and I would be fired for asking this, but please could I have a selfie with you before the end of the flight? XO, Sven." Dame gave a small smirk and responded coyly, "I'll need to go to the 'loo soon, so we'll do it then. All right Sven?" The smitten svelte Swede cooly tapped his nose and giggled as he returned to the galley. One would think that a celebrity of her stature would, at some point, get comfortable with this type of attention, but the real Dame, the introvert, still couldn't quite wrap her head around it all. And if she knew all the burden that fame would bring, Dame definitely would not have joined her brother's band in the first place.

Rupert Beauty is two years older than Dame and he started a band when he went off to University College of London. Rupert formed it with his two best mates - Elliot as lead guitarist with Roger on drums. He rounded out the group when he heard a part-time lorry driver named Jules singing one night at a Karaoke bar off campus. When the unnamed group actually landed their first gig at a pub, the owner said the group needed a name to put on the poster. Rupert selected his sister's name for the band, not because he particularly liked it, but out of sheer desperation. DAME was the first name that came into his head and it stuck. After a couple years of growing a pretty good fan base, albeit an underground one, Rupert had to fire Jules for his unreliability, bad attitude and borderline drug addiction on the eve of an important gig. This was the show where record executives would be in attendance - Rupert had to ring up his younger sister with the unexpected yet impressive voice and practically beg her to be the last-minute stand-in. Dame was the only other singer that knew the band's material, so she knew her older brother had no other option. Dame let Rupert plead on the other end of the phone, while secretly she had been waiting for this moment to take centre-stage.

The flight from London to Stockholm was only three and a half hours but this was like an eternity for Dame, as she was unable to check any of her news or social feeds. So upon touchdown, as soon as the pilot gave the all-clear on opening devices, Dame quickly powered up her bedazzled iPhone, logged in and scrubbed through a rush of parked posts. Her biggest concern was her whereabouts - did anybody notice her boarding a plane and post about her ultimate embarkation point? Luckily all she could find was a fuzzy user generated clip of a "possible sighting" of Dame being escorted through Heathrow. The caption read, "Security hustles Dame Beauty through Heathrow - destination unknown." Dame had a small sigh of relief as Sven leaned towards her and quietly whispered, "We're going to let you leave the plane first..." He then struggled to find the right words, then exclaimed, "So you can... escape."

Dame chuckled to herself as she thought that was the most appropriate word, after all she was escaping from her microscopic existence in London, the paparazzi, the pressure, the scrutiny, her brother, and her ex-beau. After exiting the plane, Dame was ushered through the arrival terminal at Arlanda, Stockholm's International airport, past the luggage carousels, whisked through customs, and deposited into the arrivals area. Dame squinted through her Prada sunglasses to see who exactly was collecting her. Dame thought that she would be met by some low-level yet overly eager assistant and then driven by private car to her rented flat. But as her eyes adjusted to the light of the arrival atrium, she couldn't help but notice standing up against the pillar, a slender shaped guy, with nordic features and dirty blonde hair that was inextricably coiffed and messy all at the same time. "That's Blix Andersson,"she muttered to herself. One of the world's most preeminent producers was there to pick her up.

Barely thirty, Blix, a multi-talented, multi-instrumentalist rose to fame with his band, Rött Slott (Red Castle). Just as Blix's band was about to go from indie darlings to international superstars, he packed it in. He much preferred to live a low-key life making music versus being in the spotlight twenty-four seven. He started writing and producing for other artists almost five years ago, quickly becoming one of the most sought after producers around. She was fully expecting to see Blix in a couple of days at the studio as he was contracted by Dame's new record label to bring her first solo album to life. As she approached him, Blix smirked as he loudly whispered, "I'd lose the sunglasses if you don't want to attract too much attention to yourself." Without thinking, Dame scooped off her chic expensive shades and hastily slipped them into the front pocket of her smart Burberry jacket. Dame blurted out in disbelief, "I cannot believe the label sent Blix Andersson to collect me from the airport." As the pair exchange a friendly hug, Blix replied, "Well you know Dame, I'm not just a gifted record producer, I'm also a great tour guide and chaperone." Before Dame could reply, Blix continued, "So the label has placed some clothes and other essentials at your Airbnb." The two then moved through the arrival terminal and down to the train platform at Arlanda centralstation. A slightly confused and concerned Dame turned to Blix and wondered, "We are not going in your car, or getting in a limo?" Blix just smirked and said, "We'd need to leave by the front of the airport and you would have been definitely noticed. We are taking the Arlanda Express to central Stockholm. It's just an eighteen minute ride. Think of it as your Swedish immersion, after all , you are going to be a citizen of Stockholm for the next four or five weeks."