Opening Night Love

Opening Night

"WAAAAAAAAAH! Who's fucking idea was it to walk through the crowd?" Lady Gaga moved her shoulders back to have the absolutely amazing golden robe that she was wearing during her daring walk through the audience mid show pulled off.

"Yours, you crazy bitch." Bobby stood in the corner of the narrow changing room, which was still bigger than the space allocated for the dancers. He was smiling ear to ear and filmed her ecstatic reaction on his phone.

She was stripped of the blouse she wore underneath as well and felt Freddie holding her hair back as the head mic was removed while she stuck her arms into the loops of a golden bra. Just a second later a matching jacket was pulled up her shoulders as well and she was ready to go on again.

"It's so exciting!" Gaga breathed hard. "I feel like I'm so high. Oh my god! I can't believe we're doing this. Aaaaah!" She clenched her fist and bumped it against Bobby's. "Let's go!"

The blonde, petite woman threw her head back and adjusted the earpiece before she sprinted up the stairs to the stage placed in the middle of the stadium. The roar from the audience hit her just as hard as if she had ran into a wall, the spotlights in her eyes – she was so alive. It felt like they elevated her from the floor. She gazed out at the thousands of heads below and around her and smiled as wide as she could as she started to dance and waved her arms above her head.

She sent a quick thought to how just before the show she had been standing in her dressing room together with her boyfriend and she had been so nervous that she felt like she was going to throw up.

"Good luck, babe," Michael Polansky had whispered with his forehead close to hers. She had raised her chin and searched his lips for a kiss. He had moved his head back. "No, I don't wanna mess-"

"Don't worry about that, it's-"

So he had kissed her before she got a chance to advertise her own brand to him, and she had felt the warm air from his nose against her cheek. Then she had put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him closer. "Will you be watching from the sound booth with the others? I want to see you."

"I don't know. Is it OK if I watch from the side?" He had looked hesitant, knowing she would be disappointed by that, but she had just scoffed at him. She had felt his hands on her waist, how he didn't want to let her go without explaining that he loved her regardless of where he was watching her from.

And then just minutes ago she had started her walk through the completely wild crowd and barely hearing her own voice through the earpiece over the screams. The rush through her body had made her feel both invincible and freaked out. She had nearly been drowning, seeing gaping mouths and hands reaching for her, and then she had noticed Michael and almost forgotten where she was.

He had looked so calm and confident and she had felt this warm, fuzzy feeling of belonging to someone. He was her anchor amidst all the chaos on the floor. Aren't you proud of me? she had thought. Look at all these people screaming my name, but I'm looking at you. And yes, he had nodded as if he could read her mind. He was proud, but he also thought she was absolutely insane that moment.

Fuck, she was so in love and she felt so loved she wasn't sure she deserved it.

\o/