Fame and Consquenses

1: So Long, London

Cold air whips across my face as the cheers of the crowd ring in my ears. My hands are grasped by Taylor on one side of me, and Sydney on the other. We raise our arms to the sky, cheeks flushed but lifted into huge smiles as we bow. Taylor releases my hand, and the volume in the stadium only grows as she speaks the words "So long, London," into the microphone. Then she starts waving, our cue to clear the stage, and I follow the other dancers across the long, key-shaped stage until we reach the exit. I make sure to wave to a few fans as I do, blowing some kisses and wiping a tear as their adoration touches me deeply for the 100th or more weekend in a row. It feels good, it does, to be loved.

In a whirlwind of backstage happenings, I manage to find myself leaning against a scaffold in a warm change of clothes, my sparkly stage garments returned to the costume tent. Although I'm not one to get cold, it feels good to have my arms covered and to take a break, watching my phone and waiting for the others to finish up. When I hear footsteps come toward me, I tuck my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, smiling at the small frame of Audrey approaching. She looks freezing, and the fact that she's still in her little navy bodysuit doesn't help.

"Still waiting for costumes?" I ask her in a soft voice, and her response is just to nod at me and sniffle.
"You look freezing."

She laughs softly, her head moving in a more pronounced up-and-down manner. "Freezing indeed. The UK is kicking my ass," she declares, and I can't help but giggle in agreement. It sure has been cold these past few weekends.
"Do you want my sweater?" I offer, already starting to pull it off. I know what her answer will be.
"No, I couldn't. Costumes will be free soon anyway."
As predicted. Before she can finish her sentence, the hoodie is half way over my head, and I extend it in my arm to her.

"Take it, Audrey."

She hesitates, but I see in her eyes how much she wants to accept it as she stares at it. Those beautiful, dark, doe eyes that make my heart skip a beat when she looks up at me. Then she sniffles again, and as one hand comes up to wipe her nose, the other takes my hoodie from me. I fight the urge to tell her 'good girl.'

After she pulls it on, her hair caught under the sweater gives the illusion that she has less of it. I think about how cute her hair would be cut short like that, then about how much I love her hair all long and silky, then how much I want to pull it. Her voice thanking me snaps me out of my spiral.

"Better?"

"Much."

Then it's quiet for a bit. At least, for us. Like the air between her and I is still and peaceful, despite the ever-roaring crowd who make themselves known whether we're on stage or hidden from it. I would normally try a lot harder not to stare at her, but she looks perfect in my hoodie, and she's staring back at me, though I think maybe it's just because my arms are bare.

"You're not cold like that?"
As I suspected.

"Don't worry about me. I'm never cold."

Then she rolls her eyes, and I blink mine, and then it's over. Natalie P skips past us and prods Audrey, telling her the costume tent is free. I don't let the disappointment show on my face until both of the girls have moved away. My eyes follow Audrey into the tent, then down to my nails, which are bleeding around the edges. I must've picked them again, like I always do when I'm nervous. A few groups of people pass me to leave the stadium, but I figure I'll wait for Audrey if only to make her smile.

Smile she does, a sheepish little grin when she catches my eye after leaving the tent. She's still wearing my hoodie. Once she's close enough, I give the sleeve a playful tug, but I'm glad I could help warm her up.

"Let's get out of here," She says quickly, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the exit.
"Okay, okay, coming. Somewhere with heaters, hey?" It takes me a few steps to regain my balance, but the more I walk the less composure I have. She takes my arm in hers, giving me a hum in response, and I blush. If anyone asks, I'll blame the cold.

We're met by Taylor's motorcade at the door to the stadium. Audrey and I hop into one of three long black limousines, followed by six other dancers, and the everyone else get in the second. Taylor herself exits alone, and even from out here the cheering is still audible as she shows herself a final time while walking out. She hops in the furthermost limo, and then we're on the move, Audrey's arm somehow still linked with mine. I refuse to look at her for reasons I can't put into words, letting her engage in the chatter people start to make as we look forward to the week ahead. I zone out for most of the ride, but make note of important key words. Tomorrow night, celebrate, rooftop, alcohol. I keep listening. Audrey's voice. She'll be there. Then it's settled. So will I.