Rock With You: A Love Story

love you

Parramatta Stadium, Sydney
5:38pm
Michael's POV

"Ready, Mike?" I turn to see Karen Faye, my make up artist and friend, peeking through the ajar door of my dressing room.
"Yep, you can come in now." I stand up from my couch and walk towards to door to send off Belle, who is holding my hand until she kisses my cheek and strides off towards her dressing room down the corridor.
Karen shuts the door behind her, all the noise of the business instantly blocked out and replaced by the humming of the air conditioner. She claps her hands together and says, "Where to begin!..."
As Karen pounces a damp beauty sponge around my face, I close my eyes and let her do her thing. She's done my make up for a few years now so I trust her, although sometimes it's a bit much. I begin to tap my feet to a beat that I can just about hear from the tiny radio on my make up table, slightly uninterested. "Still." She says firmly as I raise my eyebrows as if to apologise.
Just under an hour later, my hair stylist enters and begins to work away at my wild curls. The feeling of so many hands all over me is definitely one it took me a while to get used to. As my eyebrows are brushed through and my hair is spritzed by some water, we reach the end of the hair and make up section of the preparation.

6:57pm

I stand up and glance at my reflection as everyone else in the room scurries off, apart from Karen, who stands behind me as if she's waiting to tell me something. I dart my eyes to her in the mirrors reflection, as she stares intensely at me. "What?" I chuckle awkwardly.
"You look good, Mike." She crosses her arms over her stomach, creasing her black shirt.
"Thanks to you!" I reply thankfully, turning to face her.
"Nah, you look good all the time." She confirms to me, her hand now on my shoulder.
"Thanks Karen, now I really should get dressed. Why haven't they brought in my outfit?" My mind is quickly taken back to the fact the show is in just over an hour as I begin to speak my messy mind.
"Chill, don't worry yourself. They'll bring it in any..." She is interrupted by the costume team rushing in with a rack of clothes on wheels. "...second now." She winks at me. I giggle.
"Sorry we were a few minutes late, Michael. It's crazy busy down the corridors, we could barely move!" They exclaim, looking all hot and flustered as they hold their palms on their foreheads.
"Don't worry. I've got it now. Just maybe go and sit down, chill out?" I offer them a break, seeing their level of stress makes me feel so empathetic I can't help but suggest they take a minute out.
"Thanks, Mike, but I don't think we have the time for that." They say while speedily attaching little sticky notes onto each garment bag hanging off the rack, numbering the outfits in order of when I put them on.
"Okay, well..." I don't know what to say.
"Take deep breaths." Karen finishes my sentence perfectly.
"Yeah, that." I blush at Karen. She smiles at me for a second before evidently realising the time.
"Come on! Everyone out!" She hurries everyone out so I can get changed in peace. Just as the room become empty, she peeks back in through the doors crack, "Good luck." My face fills with a genuine smile before she gently shuts the door between us, breaking our eye contact.
My face continues beaming as I unzip garment bag '1' to see my usual silver, badge-covered, strappy shirt paired with the slick black trousers, silver details all over. I unhook it from the hanger and begin to slip into it. I forgot how comfortable it was, although it doesn't look it.
Moments later, I realise my hair, make up and outfit are done. That's all, right? I scan my brain for something that could be missing. Maybe it's just that I should go and see how Bel's getting along. I quickly check how I look before I step out from my peaceful haven. I stroke the curls that frame my face and decide to leave. I'm never completely happy with how I look, nor happy in general, but I've learned to live with it, sort of.
I grab a complementary grape and pop it into my mouth before crunching down the industrial metal handle of my dressing rooms door and strolling out to find Belle. I see what costume meant, it is hectic. It looks like a bee hive as everyone darts here and there, I don't even know what could be so urgent.
I munch on my grape and walk down the corridor, counting the doors. I know Belle is 4 down from me. 1, 2, 3... 4. I knock gently on the door to hear, "Come in!" from a familiar, sweet voice.
"Hello?" I peer into Belle's dressing room. It's much smaller than mine, but it's cozy. I like it. She stands up from the chair at the vanity table, to come towards me.
"You look hot." She steps over to me, her heels clicking loudly on the cold, hard ground.
"As do you, baby." I place my hands around her lower back and lock my fingers.
"It's weird for me, seeing you all done up, you know." She smiles.
"Same for me. Although we were done up like this as we got to know each other so I don't know why." I reply, our faces centimetres apart.
"The good old days." She scrunched up her nose with a smirk.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I raise my eyebrows and laugh, keeping eye contact.
"Oh, nothing. If anything, it's got better. I don't know how." She speaks my exact thoughts, as always.
"I know, baby." I run my fingers through her crimped up hair, it pinging back into place as I reach the end every time. "Why don't you ever do you're hair like this? When we aren't performing."
"Like this?" She giggles in disbelief.
"Yeah! I love it." I say.
"I look like I've been dragged through a... forest." Her harmonious laugh filling the quiet air of her dressing room.
"You don't! You could never." I kiss her on the forehead, my hands still behind her.
"How am I still smaller than you even in like 24 inch heels?" She shakes her head.
"Because I'm better than you." I wink. Her jaw drops as her eyes gleam with pure happiness. She weakly punches my in the stomach.
"Ow!" I say sarcastically, bending over as if in pain, my head on her shoulder.
"Aaow!" She mocks me, and finds herself hilarious, which I do too although I try to pretend I don't find this remark so.
"Yeah, yeah. Okay." I hug her tightly, my arms around her waist.
"Nu uh." She laughs, again weakly trying to push me away from her body.
I laugh at her strength, or lack of it, as we both hear a knock at the door.
"Hello?" Belle says, her voice muffled by my chest.
"Show time, c'mon." A voice shrieks, clearly trying to alert all the dancers in their dressing rooms, not just Belle.
"Jeez, what's wrong with her?" Belle mutters under her breath, making me laugh intensely. I'm presuming it's Laura, one of my tour managers.
"Belle?" The voice says again.
"Yes?" Belle tries to sound polite.
"Who's in there with you? A man?" They say with some sort of anger, like a mother to their daughter.
"Uh... yes?" She frowns at me as she responds. They clearly don't know about Belle and I, I really don't know how.
The door flies open, Laura clearly in hope to catch Belle out, only to see me stood with my arms around Belle, smiling.
"Oh... uh... M-Michael! Hi! I'm so..." She stutters awkwardly. She obviously didn't expect her boss, myself, to be the mystery guy she was shrieking about. I find this very amusing. "Show time! It's almost 8, everyone!" She shouts and scurries off, clearly feeling awkward.
Belle and I have fits of laughter together before taking each other's hands and walking slowly toward the backstage. I have now slipped a black and red oversized shawl over the shoulders of my outfit to wear until I go on stage, acting as a sort of jacket.
I'm handed a small bottle of water, a plastic straw poking out the top, and a little white towel as we walk for me to take with me backstage.

7:49pm

This is it. Everyone is now backstage warming up and stretching in our last ten minutes. I'm standing alone, my adrenaline rising and excitement rushing through my veins. I have to have a moment alone before the show so I can get in the correct mindset, which I am now in. Pumped up.
I check the clock on the wall, to see the hazy numbers "7:58".
"Go time! Good luck everyone!" Frank shouts, as usual, as we all begin to move towards our places. I kiss Belle on the head, "Good luck, baby."
"Love you." She says.
"Love you."
I hurry towards the back of the stage, ready to walk up with a few of my male dancers for Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'.
It's go time. The words "Love you" from Belle replay in my head, giving me an extreme sense of comfort. I smile to myself as I hear the bass begin.