She slipped.
He had seen everything in slow motion. He saw how she leaped towards the smaller stage in her excitement to get closer to the audience in the middle of Waterloo. Benny knew she had hoped to land on her right foot, but the smaller stage had not been completely wiped off, so her boot slipped. She was quick to react, releasing the mic to try and catch herself, but she fell forward anyway, and Benny could swear that he had never been more scared his whole life than he was at that moment.
One of his biggest fears had finally happened. His beautiful, feisty, redheaded ball of energy lost her balance and slipped onstage and almost off of it entirely. Imagine what could have happened if she hadn't caught herself — if she hadn't been fast enough. He had every urge to run to her and take her out of there. He needed to make sure she was okay, but before he could even miss a key, she had been up with that distinct smile that wrinkled her nose, and the audience cheered her on.
She was okay.
At least, that's what everyone thought, but Benny knew better. It might have just been a slight twitch on the corner of her left eye, but that was her tell. She was in pain, and he was worried.
From then until the end of the show, Benny watched her like a hawk, as if willing her to move less, to jump less just so he could get a moment's rest from the anxiety of her possibly getting hurt again. But who was he kidding? Frida is an enigma on stage. She set that stage on fire with her moves, and like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to her.
Now, hours later, he's on a mission to get ice. His thoughts traveled back to everything that happened that led to this moment.
...
Usually, after the curtain call, Benny can expect an exuberant Frida to run and hug him. But when he looked around, he couldn't find her anywhere. Although worried about where she might be, Benny patiently shook everybody's hand and congratulated them on a job well done. When he had asked them if they knew where Frida was, none of them knew of her whereabouts, just that she was fine. Everyone had been worried about her fall, but they told him she just met their worried looks with a bright smile on her face.
He kept searching for his girlfriend, but there was no sight of her anywhere. He was starting to get antsy when he felt a soft pat on his shoulder.
"Hey, Benny."
He whipped around and found a worried Görel. If Görel was on edge, then it was serious. Benny was gearing himself to push through people when Görel gripped his arm.
"She's okay, Benny, calm down."
Panicked, he scanned the room again, "Where is she?"
"In her dressing room," she sighed. "She insists that she's fine, but I just, Benny, I don't think so — that's why I came looking for you."
"You were right to do that, Görel. Thanks. I'll go to her now. Please tell anyone who asks that Frida and I are retiring for the night. I don't want her overworking herself anymore tonight."
Not waiting for a response from Görel, Benny sped through the crowd, ignoring everyone's congratulations like a man on a mission. Finally, he arrived at the door and barged in, completely ignoring the Please Knock sign that Frida put in her dressing room all the time. He found her hunched back on her makeup table, her hands firmly clutched her hips. Wasting no time, Benny knelt before her, gently sliding his hand over the one she had on her hip.
"What hurts, baby?"
She shot up then, evidently surprised that he was even in the room, "When did you get here?" she asked.
