Love Is A Battlefield (Alan Wilder x Martin Gore)

7: Rush

One week later, April 8th, 6:27am, the bedroom:

Poppi had barely caught any winks. All she could think about was watching her parents play their music in front of thousands and thousands of screaming onlookers. It gave her a feeling only possible to feel right there in the moment. At last, the day had arrived. She would get to feel that feeling all over again, for the first of many times. The blinding morning sun was spilling through the slight crack in the curtains, gradually waking her younger sister too.

"Morning, Mae." She smirked at her from across their bedroom.

Esme was still relearning to say certain words and phrases posterior to her accident, so responded by simply smiling and waving back at Poppi. Conscious of the early hour, Poppi slid out from her bed with as little sound as she could make and went to look out of the window. There was a trivial draft of thick and warm air wafting around her face as she stood looking through the glass. It was a near perfect day; the skies were crisp and cloudless and the sun sat high within them with a newly risen glow and she could feel its rays licking her skin.

"Do you think Papa and Daddy are awake yet?" She pondered, drawing the curtain inward with now dewy eyes.

"I don't know." Esme replied, still lying beneath her duvet.

When instantaneously, Poppi began to hear footsteps that sounded like they were heading towards their bedroom. In minor panic, she leapt back into bed and dragged her duvet over her head to act as though she had never moved and was still asleep. She could still sense someone entering the room although her body faced the wall.

It was Martin, coming to wake the two of them.

"Girls, it's time to get up." He spoke softly as he set foot inside, heading towards his eldest daughter's bed first.

"Pops,"

She turned over and gave as authentic of a yawn as she could as well as a gradual smile.

"Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, my darling." He leant downwards and pecked her nose. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did. In fact, Esme had to wake me up!" She giggled and watched as Esme's jaw dropped at her falsity, but a smile soon spread across her face.

"Really must've been sleepy, then." He laughed, looking over at his youngest daughter. "Well, it's a big day, so we ought to go and have some breakfast."

"Yeah, I'm starving!" Poppi, now fully energized, cascaded out of her bed.

~~~~~
Five hours later, 11:44am, the arena:

Alan unloaded the car of all of their necessities whilst Martin led his daughters into the arena's inside, holding each of their hands. The arena was of an impeccably large size with an elevated glass roof, and it mesmerized the two young girls.

"Wow," Poppi muttered, still loud enough for Martin to pick up on.

"It's big, right?" He replied with an excited tone of voice.

"Yeah, I've never seen anything like it!" She gave a half-suppressed laugh.

"I think that's everything." Alan huffed, now stood behind them and holding several bags.

"Let's get it all to your dressing rooms before your arms fall off, Daddy." Poppi joked and started to help her father with the lighter baggage.

They then walked across the arena's interior, observing the large balconies and the stage.