A Night on Fire (An Olli Herman Fanfiction) #Wattys2016

Chapter Two

Beverly and I joined a long, waiting line at the gate's entrance. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, shielding the screen from the blazing sun with a free hand. My thick, wavy, brown hair blew with the warm, summer breeze. The time read quarter till five. The gate was about to open to the public in only fifteen minutes. However, my excitement drowned my patience.

"Bev, do our passes give us early access into the pavilion?"

"Oh...no," she frowned, still looking as gorgeous as she does when grinning. "I'm sorry. I couldn't afford those ones. I bought the Meet-and-Greet package for two."

I had no intentions of making her feel bad. This was the best present anyone had ever bought for me, and I didn't want her thinking I bore ungratefulness. It was a question of curiosity (and not wanting to wait too long) as I had never done this sort of thing.

"There's no need to be sorry," I sympathetically coaxed and touched my hand to her right shoulder. "I love this gift! It's the best birthday present ever! I couldn't be any more thankful for you treating me out to a concert. You did not need to go to this extent. I just didn't know what our passes could do."

Her benign smile came back out from hiding. "We get to meet the group after the show. They'll be doing chats, autographs, and pictures. Before the show starts, we'll ask a security guard for directions to the backstage."

My heart raced while I daydreamed about the moment later to come. Fuck caffeine! This gave me the thrill I needed!

The entrance opened at five on the dot. People in line rushed to be on the other side of the gate, but security strictly held them back to check for tickets, proper identification, and weapons. Only three at a time could cross over when the examining finished. Once we accessed the other side, Beverly and I immediately darted toward the merchandise booth to get our hands on the goodies they sold. Beanies, trucker caps, t-shirts, tank tops, sweaters, women's underwear, banners, posters, coffee mugs, shopping bags, pins, stickers, and dog tags all with the Reckless Love logo. Since I already had and was wearing a Reckless Love tank top, I bought an American tour shirt and banner. Beverly paid for a hot pink beanie and a baby blue hoodie. For our dinner, we ordered massive cheeseburgers with fresh-cut, greasy fries and two colas. Though the food prices were ridiculous, the meal filled our bellies and left us in satisfaction.

"Girl, that was delicious, but I think it added unneeded pounds to my body," Beverly complained and took a long sip of her carbonated drink with the bent straw pinned between her forefinger and thumb and her pinky pointed to the ceiling. She sat across from me at a table underneath a wooden pavilion. Tom Petty's "Mary Jane's Last Dance" played on the speakers attached to the supporting posts. "I'll have to work out extra hard tomorrow morning to burn off these calories!" She paused, looking above my forehead into nothingness. "Possibly worth it, though." Her eyes came back to me. "You want to join me?"

"It depends on how tired I feel tomorrow," I replied, wiping my hands with a brown napkin. "I know it'll be past my bedtime when we get back home."

"Please, Sasha? You don't have to work out the whole time. I only want your company."

Her lips pouted as she tried her best to make herself look cute. In reality, I had to hold in my giggles since her failure only made her face look hilarious. I gave into her plead, so she would quit pouting, and I wouldn't be forced to laugh.

"Soooo," she said, changing the topic, "do you know what you're going to say to each of the band members, especially Olli?"

I had thought about it during the ride to the venue. I didn't want to be like every other fan saying the same thing: "Oh, I am your biggest fan!" "I have a mega crush on you, Olli!" "Your music helped me with all my troubles!" "My favorite song of yours is blah-blah-blah!" I know if I was to hear all that on repeat, I'd eventually block out their words and not give much attention to my fans. I'm more than sure they heard it all before. I couldn't come up with a single thing I could say that they may not have heard.

"I truthfully don't know," I answered. "I'll probably just be myself."

"Phfffffft! You tried that with Tom Keifer and ended up forgetting your name, and you actually referred to him as Thomas!"

I blushed in embarrassment. That situation happened two years prior while vacationing in Tennessee. Beverly and I saw him at one of the local diners and, with my heart thudding, went to his table to ask for an autograph and picture. Of course, my brain shot, so I couldn't think clearly causing me to act abnormally. I had the feeling that Beverly would never let me live it down as she witnessed the moment right next to me.

"Yes, I guess that didn't go quite well," I murmured with rosy cheeks.

Let's not have that happen again.

********

After we ate our carb-loaded food, we asked a security guard patrolling the lawn behind all the seats that were underneath the main pavilion what we had to do when it came time for the meet-and-greet. He gave us the directions to the backstage, saying a line will form around the side after the show. He assured us that if we still have trouble finding our way there, other guards would have no problem leading us to the line themselves.

We found our seats easily in the fourth row to the left of the catwalk protruding from the stage's center. Such a perfect place! The roadies spent their time working on the electrical gear and lighting. Over time, more people traveled to the pavilion with their popcorn, hotdogs, French fries, bottled water, and paid merchandise to wait for the show to start. The chitchatting within the area grew louder as the number of people increased, and the daylight faded to a dark blue, starry night. I looked around me at the large audience surrounding us.

"I never realized Reckless Love had such a huge fan base in America," I said to Beverly, astonished. I raised my voice a notch or two above normal speaking volume.

"Neither did I," she agreed. "They did the right thing taking such a large risk coming here. I thought it was only the Europeans that truly appreciated this type of music."

"I know. I'm actually happy that—ˮ

Boom! The stage lights shut off, creating an ocean of pure darkness.