Jacob Sartorius and a Candy Shop Lovestory

It Gets So Much Worse

We arrive at the venue at 6:30 sharp. I'm blown away by how many people are here to see MY Jacob. Wendylyn and I run inside and miraculously end up at the front of the barricade! I mean, I had to kick a few 10 year olds, but that's beside the point.

I check my phone; it's 6:49. Jacob should be coming on soon. I start chanting "daddy" over and over to try to get him to come out sooner. I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Excuse me, my 3 young daughters are here tonight, and your 'Daddy' chant is very inappropriate!" A middle-aged hag says to me. I'm not about to let this suburban devil ruin my night. I bop her in the schnoz and knock that hoe out.

"Try me again trick ass bitch," I yell then spit in her face.

Suddenly, all of the lights in the room shut off. I scream. Daddy is finally home. A single spotlight shines on the middle of the stage. A small elf-like boy, about 165.1 centimeters tall, walks into the spotlight. He is facing away from the audience. Everyone is screaming, I don't know why.

He turns around.

Wait.

It's actually Jacob.

He's actually real.

He starts singing Hit or Miss and I literally think I'm having an orgasm, but I'm too caught up in that heavenly, prepubescent voice of my love to give a shit.

A string of "YASS DADDY," "KING OF MY VAGINA," and "FUCK ME," tumbles out of my mouth in between my beltings of his lyrical masterpieces.

As if in the blink of an eye, the show is almost done. The last song, Sweatshirt, comes on. Boy, this song owns my ass. I would love to just savor the moment and sing along, but I know that this is my last shot to make a lasting impression on my little sweet Sart.

But I think you need something to think of me

I know what to do.

Something that will keep you warm

I unhook my bra.

And show you we can be more than just this

I slide off the lacy cloth.

So, baby, if you are not ready for my kiss...

I chuck my bra onto the stage and it lands on my daddy's foot.

He turns in my direction. My breath is heavy with anticipation. Finally, our eyes lock. It may have only been for a second, I know I will never forget the way he looked at me.

Then you can wear my sweatshirt

His gaze continues to drift back to mine throughout the song. With each glance his hazel eyes grow a shade darker. He wants me.

So, baby, wear my. . .

The song ends, and just as the lights turn off he catches my eye one more time, with a look as if to say, "stay here after the show ends because I'm gonna send my tour manager to find you and bring you backstage and we can fucc."

The lights turn off and I turn to my Wendylyn.

"Get the fuck out of here, your gal is about to 'kick it' with Jacob motherfricking Sartorius," I say to her.

"Ok," she responds disappointedly. She's probs just sad because she didn't get in my pants first. What a hoe.

Wendylyn leaves along with the other couple hundred of 9-12 year olds who were intruding on my date with Jacob. I am finally alone in the venue, waiting by the barricade. The room goes completely dark.

Did he really not care about me?

Suddenly, a single spotlight shines on me. I knew my papi would come back for me.

But instead of ol' Rolfy greating me, a tall caucasian male with auburn hair and brown eyes wearing a suit from the store that Rachel worked at in Friends approaches me.

"Mr. Sartorius would like to see you know, Miss. Head with me backstage," the tall caucasian male with auburn hair, brown eyes, and a suit from the store that Rachel worked at in Friends says.

"Oh my fricking gosh, this is bonkers! I'm actually gonna meet him," I say to him excitedly as I follow the tall caucasian male. We walk behind the stage and through a #dank hallway. We arrive at a door at the end of the hallway, that of which I can only assume leads to Jacob's dressing room. My predictions are mainly attributed to the giant "   Jacob  is a star student" sticker attached to the door.

"Okay, Miss. Be gentle with him, he's a delicate flower," the security guy says.

"No promises ;)," I respond.