Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Seventy

    As soon as the dressing room was cleared, Mia frowned up at Drake. "I hated having to do that," she muttered, moving around him and returning to the full-length mirror.

    He followed her. "You were perfect."

    "I lied," she said through clenched teeth, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. "When you talked to me about the business, and handling paparazzi, you said that I could just be myself. You said that I shouldn't worry about fake smiling for cameras after having a bad day. You said that we could just be us, be real. And look at what I'm doing. I'm lying to people. There's already rumors out there that we're fighting and I just lied to someone about it." She smoothed a hand down her hair and evaluated her reflection.

    "We're still being us," he argued. "There is a difference between fake smiling because you've had a bad day and giving everyone in the world a front row seat to a relationship that's falling apart."

    She glared at his reflection.

    "I didn't want you to have to lie," he explained to her. "I thought that if we made sure to not argue out in public, or make sure that we didn't look like we hated each other, then we could prevent the rumors from happening. I never wanted you to lie, I just..."

    Her eyes softened a little.

    "I just didn't want the whole world to know you were mad at me," he finished. "Before, when I was giving you that advice about the paparazzi, I was giving that advice to you as an entertainer who has been in the business for years. That advice was coming from one entertainer to another entertainer. But when I asked you the favor that I asked you today, that was coming from your boyfriend. That was coming from the man who loves you, and the man who doesn't want Zach LaVine or the rest of the fucking world to know that I fucked up. It's hard enough to get you to forgive me without all of the outside elements throwing in their two cents."

    "I guess I can understand that," she said. "I really do need to finish getting ready, but can you check to see if it's too late for the lighting guys to go back to the original stage light setup?"

    Drake's brows drew together. "Why?"

    "Because I'm not performing in the background tonight," she told him, turning back to the mirror. "If it's too late for them to change it, that's fine, but if there's any way for them to revert to the original plan or just...wing it and follow my lead, that would be great."

    He nodded. "All right, I'll check," he told her.

    She waited for him to leave before sliding bracelets onto her wrists and looping a thick, gold necklace around her neck. "All right, Mia," she told her reflection, "let's give them a show."

                                                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Once you toured at several stadiums, they all seemed to blend together. They all seemed to look alike after awhile. The energy in a lot of the stadiums seemed to be similar. Fans in one city might be a little more hype than fans in another city, but all in all, most of the experiences tended to feel the same or at least similar. Drake often joked about having to rock a jersey from the city he performed in, just to remember which stadium he was in at times.

    And then there was Madison Square Garden, Mia thought, standing at the foot of metal steps leading up to the stage. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides while she stood in front of the stairs. Her eyes were closed, and she whispered encouraging words to herself. She was trying to eradicate any lingering traces of doubt, doubt in herself and doubt in her relationship with a phenomenal man. She wasn't on the best of terms with him right now, but that did nothing to destroy the respect and admiration she had for him. It was that respect and admiration that she called upon as she listened to his performance and the boisterous feedback from the crowd.

    Out of all of the audiences you could perform in front of, Madison Square Garden was among the elite. At a Madison Square Garden show, there would be a lot of regular fans, but you also had a ton of celebrities in the crowd, a ton of socialites, and wealthy executives. It wasn't easy to impress a Madison Square Garden audience. Popular acts have been booed off of the Madison Square Garden stage. Why? Because New York City didn't believe in sugarcoating how it felt...about anything or anyone.

    Which is why, this is the perfect city to see what I'm made of, Mia thought while waiting for her cue. When her cue came, a switch flipped inside of her, and she started to climb the steps, one by one. With her microphone in hand, she started to sing a good thirty seconds before she actually walked out onto the stage.

    There was an explosion of applause and screams, but she powered through her performance. In past cities, she got all cutesy at the sound of applause and the screams, and had the audience sing along with her...but this time was different. This time, she sang her parts in full. She worked the stage to keep the audience engaged, but not once did she pull the microphone away from her mouth. She made her way back to the middle of the stage, where Drake sang backup adlibs for her part in "Soul Cry." She curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him. Then she turned around to face the audience while the music was playing, a break between verses. She breathed heavily while scanning her eyes across the sea of faces and cell phone lights. She could feel sweat rolling down her forehead, hear the screams and shrieks of encouragement. As appreciative as she was of the love and energy being sent her way, she didn't smile. Instead, she raised her eyes in the direction of the VIP booth where Nicki and Meek undoubtedly were, and raised the microphone to her mouth so she could sing her final verse.

    At the end of that final verse, she grabbed the microphone with both hands, belted out the line, and collapsed down to her knees with one arm raised into the air. The spotlight went dark, and she stayed on the floor, on her knees, with her hands raised and her chest heaving. Now was the time when she could bask in the praise of the crowd; now was the time when she could savor the thunderous applause. The audience members in the first few rows started chanting her name. It caught on, and soon the entire stadium was chanting.

    Dear America, you just got the chance to meet Mia Thomas, the superstar. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.