The back of the limousine is filled with gentle music, coming from the radio. A tear or two trickle down my cheek for no apparent reason, but I barely notice, a few tears seems like nothing compared to the ocean i've cried recently. I don't know what it was about that guy that affected me so much, it's not like I haven't been yelled at before. I suppose it's about time I had my Britney Spears breakdown all famous people seem to have at one point or another.
"Are you ok there Sir?", The driver asks, his eyes flicking between the road and the rear vision mirror.
"No", I say with a small laugh, a little embarrassed he saw me crying.
He gives me a gentle smile in a way that seems to say 'i'm sorry'. I shrug in response, reaching over to grab a tissue.
I tuck my legs up onto the seat as I look out the window, watching all the people stare at the limo as it drives by, probably wondering who's inside, and where they're going.
The car drives on in near silence, with only the sound of the motor and the radio making it bearable. I can't stand silence. Silence makes it easy for my thoughts to get the better of me, and I can't have that.
We eventually pull up to our destination, the backstage entrance to the staples centre. I'm here to rehearse for the first show of my tour, something I'd normally be excited about, but right now I'd rather be at home. The door opens and I step out, brushing off my fur coat and giving a nod to the driver. I notice a few people being stopped by security, waving furiously at me and calling my name as I make my way towards the entrance. I give them a small wave in response, barely looking over to them.
As soon as I enter the stadium I'm greeted by a coffee wielding assistant walking alongside me. I take my drink (a triple venti half sweet non-fat caramel macchiato, of course.) gratefully from her, and sip it as I walk. I glance into some of the changing rooms on my way down the hallway, seeing some of my costumes hung on racks and makeup scattered in front of light-up mirrors.
"It's a dress rehearsal Dan, you need to come get ready now", a stylist says condescendingly as I pass her in the hallway.
"I'm aware", I say, not looking back at her as I continue to stride towards the stage door. I think someone tries to say something to me as I walk through the door, but if they did, I didn't hear it. I walk quickly up the stairs, through another door and then out onto the stage.
My fingers trail along the edge of the velvet chaise lounge that's placed in the middle of the stage. There are flowers and lights and various other props all over my stage, making it a beautiful set reminiscent of 1920's Hollywood glamour. I find myself walking to the edge of the stage, looking out across the ocean of empty seats, before looking down a little to see one person sitting in the front row. I don't recognise him as one of the crew, and I have no idea why he's here. He notices me staring after a while, and he smiles and gives me a little wave, so naturally I roll my eyes and walk quickly off the stage.
♡♡♡
hey good news, i'm alive
(sorry i haven't updated for a billion years jus been prett stressed u kno)
YOU ARE READING
famous // phan au
Hayran Kurgu"fuck you" "sorry baby you already did" ♡⚣♡ in which dan's a temperamental pop star and phil's opening for him on his world tour
