Access All Areas

Chapter Eleven

During the show, I almost felt like I was floating within a big, surreal bubble. There on the stage, was Rhys Ryan. In all of his magnificent glory. The super talented, the super amazing, the super sexy guy who had recently shared something so painfully private with me and the sweet man who had so tenderly kissed me hours before.

He was there, performing in front of me, and somewhere within my awe, I wondered whether I was actually of sane mind. Within the frenzied stadium, were thousands and thousands of sobbing girls and panting women, who would have given anything to have been me. Knowing that we had shared such intimate moments made me feel quietly superior. All to myself, as I captured epic photographs of him up on that huge stage, I felt aglow with pride. That pride had nestled within me because someone like him had briefly wanted me. That wanting of me may have only been for a fleeting moment, more than likely a weak moment on his part, but it was still a proud worthy moment, nonetheless. That settled pride was also rightly there because although my lips, my body and my heart, tried to tell me to just go for it...I didn't.

Believe me, that was hard.

I wanted to go for it, but knew that I shouldn't.

I couldn't give in to Rhys Ryan and I couldn't give in to myself.

But seeing him up on that stage. Watching him sing in the beautiful way that he does, it felt like he was crawling right into my soul.

Now, I am left wondering whether I should go to the after show party. The interview is complete. I have more than enough photographs. I have Cameron's number, should I need anything. There really isn't any reason for me to attend, other than my need to see Rhys Ryan just one last time. His worldwide tour has sadly come to an end and so has my 'Access All Areas' to him. I think I should also end whatever is beginning to grow inside of me. Those growing feelings are feelings that I shouldn't have. With everyone around me being totally hyped after the stunning show finale, feelings for Rhys ripple silently within me.

Maybe I should have just ran along with my feelings?

Maybe I should have just allowed myself to kiss Rhys Ryan back without worrying about the consequences?

Maybe I should have listened to him more and less to myself?

All of those maybes now taunt me as the finality of everything starts to invisibly weigh me down.

The last show has ended.

Rhys Ryan will return to America soon.

My surreal bubble has sadly popped.

Why didn't I just have some secret fun with him?

Kissed him without care.

Laughed without care.

Cuddled without care.

Surely, some little naughty and short-lived fun would have been far better than long-lived regret? Now, I face having to say an awkward goodbye. I have contemplated just slipping out quietly without saying anything to anyone, but that would come across as rude and unprofessional. After being allowed to follow Rhys Ryan and his entourage, the very least I can do is thank them all for it.

It's common courtesy, isn't it?

My plan is to push my way through all the buzzing and invigorated dancers, singers, musicians, technicians, venue organisers, crew members, engineers—a vast amount of hyped up people—to say my thank you's and my final goodbye's.

The first familiar face I see, is Jules. "Hey, are the rest of the guys over there?" I point to the far right side of the dimly lit backstage area.