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I laid my eyes on the grand venue I had scouted earlier that day, though it seemed even more imposing now under the cover of night. The building was a modern marvel—its sharp edges of glass and steel reflecting the city lights, with a warm, inviting glow spilling out onto the street. Inside, the elegantly dressed crowd moved like shadows, their sophistication almost intimidating. I could feel the band's unease even before I turned to look at them. They were creatures of the stage, more at home with gritty concerts and late-night chaos, not this polished, high-society gathering.
I let out a deep sigh, trying to shake off my own nerves before turning to face them. My eyes scanned the group, their discomfort palpable in the way they shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting with their formal attire. Richard adjusted his cufflinks for the third time, while Till tugged at his tie, clearly wishing he could loosen it.
"We ready for this?" I asked, my voice carrying a note of determination that I hoped would settle their nerves as much as my own.
Paul was the first to respond, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ready as we'll ever be, I guess."
Flake gave a half-hearted shrug, and Schneider managed a wry grin. Till and Richard remained silent, but their gazes met mine, a silent acknowledgment of the challenge ahead.
"Just follow my lead," I assured them, injecting confidence into my voice. "We've got this."
They nodded, their trust in me reassuring. I knew that my presence was helping to ground them, but I also knew that I needed to be at my best tonight—for their sake and for mine.
With one last deep breath, I stepped forward, leading the way into the venue. The soft click of my heels on the polished floor echoed in the grand lobby, the warmth of the chandeliers casting a golden glow over everything. As we entered, I could feel the eyes of the room turning towards us, whispers spreading like wildfire as the crowd took in the sight of Rammstein stepping into their world.
This was it. Time to shine.
As the applause swelled through the grand hall, I stepped aside, allowing the crowd their moment to bask in the presence of Rammstein. My eyes, however, never left Richard. The way the room responded to them—how they responded to him—filled me with a sense of pride. I thrived on hearing the appreciation, the admiration directed at him, and I wanted him to feel it too. I wanted him to know that, in this moment, he was seen, loved, and valued.
When the initial welcome died down, I rejoined their side, slipping back into the role I was here to play.
"Okay, so here's the plan," I began, trying to inject some levity into the situation. I caught Paul's gaze and smirked. "I'll try my best to pull out my Lighting Liaison moves."
Paul's grin widened at the mention of my nickname.
"I'm not exactly at home in this world—far from it, actually—but if there's one thing I'm good at, it's bullshitting my way through things," I continued, keeping my tone casual. "We're going to head over to the main sponsor of the concert, rub his ego a little bit, and then you guys can do as you want—wait, scratch that. Don't do whatever you want. Behave. No strong liquor, and definitely no hardcore flirting."
