Alice Germanotta.

Prologue.

I never believed in grandpa's visions.
He claimed to be psychic all the time, predicting things left and right. All of them came true, yet I saw it as coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.
I loved grandfather. He was my inspiration. He was crazy, nonetheless, but who wasn't?
His stories kept I, and my two sisters, on edge. Some being scary, some being humorous. And some even being fantasy and fictional. He claimed these were all true. But we knew they weren't, but stayed quiet about that, we were kids after all. Our minds didn't fully comprehend what was real and what was not. We never cared. We loved to hear stories.
I remember, one night. Grandpa was watching over Stefani, Natali, and I one night while mother and father were on vacation. We sat at the table of our apartment in New York City, downtown Manhattan to be specific.
Grandpa was rambling about one of his fantasy stories he promised he'd tell us for a while. We paid attention, smiling at each suspenseful part.
Once Grandpa finished the story, he shooed Stefani and Natali to bed, but not I. I was the youngest of the family, at the time, five. Natali, six. Stefani, nine. Almost ten.
Grandpa scooted his chair close to mine and whispered,
"Alice. I have something to tell you."
Curious, I widen my eyes.
"I had a vision. You and Stefani and Natali, you're all going to be big one day, super starts." He said.

I was skeptical. Adults always said stuff like this, "You're going to be big one day." As a part of inspiration. I didn't believe at first. I guess Grandpa could tell I was unbelieving. He sighed.

"Have my visions ever lied?" He asked, looking me dead in the eyes.

Grandpa never lied. He always told the truth, afterall, I can't explain how he predicted most of the things that came true for my family and I. Grandpa never joked about this stuff, either. I became less skeptical. He noticed that too. He grins.

"Believe me. I see it." He said.