𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑋𝑜𝑛𝑒

𝐿𝐼𝑋

After the shows in New York, our next stop was Japan. The excitement buzzed through my team as we boarded the flight. The album had done exceptionally well there, better than we'd ever expected, and it was no surprise we'd added some tour dates for the Japanese fans.

The energy in Japan was unlike anywhere else. The fans were devoted, their love palpable even from behind the barriers. It felt surreal to know that my music had crossed oceans and language barriers, reaching hearts thousands of miles away.

On our off days, I made it a point to explore. I couldn't let the kids, Shawn, Gil, Kelly, and the others, miss out on experiencing the richness of Japanese culture. I planned excursions to temples, bustling markets, and scenic gardens. Each outing turned into a little adventure, with me playing tour guide.

We visited the iconic Meiji Shrine in Tokyo one afternoon. I explained the significance of the Shinto rituals, watching their curious expressions as they observed people writing wishes on ema plaques or purifying themselves with water at the temizuya. "You bow twice, clap twice, then bow again," I instructed, demonstrating the proper way to pray at the shrine. Shawn gave it a try, while Gil tried to make everyone laugh with his exaggerated bows.

Another day, we wandered through Tsukiji Market, sampling fresh sushi and marveling at the array of seafood. Kelly was hesitant to try anything raw, but with a little coaxing, she took a bite of sashimi and immediately grimaced. "I'm never trusting you again!" she said, laughing, while the rest of us teased her mercilessly.

Evenings were quieter. We'd stroll through neon lit streets, the energy of the city still vibrant but calmer than the daytime frenzy. I used those moments to teach them small phrases in Japanese, simple things like "arigatou gozaimasu" (thank you) or "sumimasen" (excuse me). Shawn picked up on the language quickly, surprising me when she ordered ramen perfectly in Japanese one night.

"It's fun learning from you," she said as we slurped our noodles. "You make it easy."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. Sharing these moments with them felt fulfilling, like I was passing on a piece of myself.

But in the quiet moments, as we walked back to our hotel or rode in the van after a day of sightseeing, my thoughts drifted. Every beautiful sight, every new experience, it all made me think of her. Mariah would have loved this. I could almost picture her walking beside me, her hand brushing against mine as she teased me about being such a know-it-all with the culture lessons.

I missed her. The ache was quieter now, dulled by time and distractions, but it was always there, a shadow that followed me no matter where I went.

Still, I pushed forward, burying the pain beneath my gratitude for where I was and who I was with. Japan was a new chapter, and I was determined to make the most of it. For myself, for the fans, and maybe, just maybe, for her too.

The tour was slowly winding down. It was now 2002, and we only had a handful of shows left, Hawaii being one of the final stops. The energy of the tour was still alive, but with the end in sight, I found myself reflecting more and more.

I had learned so much about myself on this journey. Being in the public eye constantly made it impossible to ignore the questions I'd been avoiding for so long. But the truth was clear now: I could only come out on my own terms, when I was truly ready. Not for the fans. Not for my family. Not even for Mariah. It had to be for me.

And the more I understood that, the more I realized I wasn't ready to give up on Mariah. No matter how far apart we'd grown, I couldn't let go of the hope of winning her trust back.

I thought about her constantly, on the tour bus, during flights, or even while laying right next to Shawn. The what ifs haunted me. What if Mariah was over me? What if she'd moved on to someone else? What if my chance to make things right had already slipped away?