Commission for EgoMyEgo, contact me if you like what you read and would like me to bring your fantasy to life.
All characters are 18+
* * * * *
You ever had one of those moments where you're just like 'how the hell did I get here?'. It doesn't always have to be a bad thing, obviously, but like when the universe aligns in such a way that something you would have thought beyond impossible actually happens, you know? I have just had one of those experiences. Currently I am being escorted out of the backstage area of an arena, but not because I've done anything wrong. In fact, I'm not even sure what I could have done so right to have gotten to experience what I just have. You can see I'm kind of dancing around what it actually was that happened, mostly because I'm still trying to make sense of it. Maybe it's best I start from the beginning.
My name isn't mega important for this story so let's refer to me as Jack. That's nice and anonymous enough I think. By the end of this story you'll likely wonder why I'm not shouting my real name from the rooftops, but even writing it down like this puts me in trouble in a major way, so it'll have to do. For now just know that I'm somewhere between 21-25 years old and live on my own.
Like a lot of people I enjoy music. Not a groundbreaking revelation, I know, but it's not meant to be. I mention it because my story hinges on me liking the music of a particular artist. I'll save time by just saying who it is outright: Phoebe Miller. She's maybe the most famous singer in the world right now and she's done it all out of the bedroom she used to share with her brother in her parents home. It isn't unusual to find someone who likes her music, I mean you don't win more Grammys than you can count and an Oscar if what you produce is terrible, but I know she has plenty of detractors too. I've followed her career for years and watched her blossom from an awkward and aloof teen into a beautiful and confident young woman.
You can probably guess from what I've just said that it would be a huge understatement to say I have a massive crush on her. I mean her music is great, don't get me wrong, but particularly in the last year or two I've found myself being more and more drawn to her physically. I feel I can hardly be blamed for that, I mean did you see the cover she did for High Fashion Magazine? If you haven't, just imagine her platinum blonde hair done up in ringlets like some 50's pinup model and an off-pink corset dress that accentuates all of her assets. You wouldn't know it looking at her in her normal, baggy casual clothes, but she's surprisingly well stacked and has a subtle curve on her hips. I know describing her like that could be seen as very reductionist or even sexist, but how else would you describe her physical appearance? Gotta call a spade a spade, you know?
Anyway, it was the combination of my growing infatuation for her and her music that meant I absolutely needed to buy tickets if she was ever playing anywhere close to me. I know I'd only be one in a crowd of thousands, but getting to see her in real life was just too much of an opportunity to let slip me by. So I saved and saved and waited and waited until finally her latest tour dates were announced and what do you know, she was playing an arena just over an hour away from my home. I stayed up until 8am refreshing my web browser so I could get those tickets as soon as they were available and my tenacity paid off.
I was sent a copy of my ticket via email for me to print off so I didn't even have to wait for it in the post. I was so excited that I almost missed that the email had an additional attachment. It was a PDF that was named simply 'Competition'. It wasn't something I was expecting to receive so I was a little cautious to begin with, but it had come with my ticket so what risk was there really?
I opened the PDF and read what it said. In brief, it told me I had the opportunity to win a backstage experience with Phoebe that I qualified for with my purchase of the ticket within the first hour of sale. All I had to do was to fill in a bit of information about myself (name, age, picture, relationship status, all that kind of stuff) and just email it back to them. Simplest competition I've ever entered.
Now obviously I didn't expect anything to come of that, but you can't win if your horse isn't in the race right? Just a few days before the show I got another email telling me something I just wasn't ready for. I had won. I couldn't believe it!! The email told me that I and 29 other lucky fans had been randomly selected to have a backstage experience with Phoebe following her show! It was like all of my Christmases had come at once!
Weirdly though it also came with a bunch of added pressure. The realisation that I was actually going to meet Phoebe made me so much more self conscious about what I was planning to wear, how I was going to look overall, all that kind of stuff. It felt like I needed to make more of an effort than if I was just going to be some fan in the crowd. So I obsessed over it for the next few days until, on the day of the show, I was finally happy.
I had expected it, but holy crap the amount of people there was insane. I've no shame in admitting I walked around there with a certain arrogance about me, knowing that I was going to be one of only the smallest selection of these people who would actually get to meet her. I was told to make my way to the main desk of the arena once the show was over so I could be taken to the backstage area. At least the wait for me was filled with one of the most electric live performances I've ever witnessed.
There are some people who you can tell just come alive when they perform and Phoebe is one of them. I've seen in interviews how she's said she feels invincible on stage, like she has the power of a god. She didn't say this bit but it's hard to argue against that when she has 50,000 people worshipping at her feet. Watching her interact with the crowd and the way her face lit up as she sang was such a beautiful thing to witness and so far removed from the idea so many places sell of her being this moody child.
As usual, and so on brand for her, she was wearing this baggy sports jumper, cargo shorts and worn sneakers with shin high socks. A lot of people criticise her for this but these are the same people who also body shamed her when she did that amazing High Fashion shoot I was telling you about. I personally think it makes her all the more alluring that she would rather be comfortable on stage than worry about being in some skimpy outfit. I mean, let's be real, I'd love to see her in something like that too, but it's not my decision to make.
As the show drew to a close I practically sprinted for the main desk. I'd been quite far forward in the bustle of the crowd so when I got there there were already a few other guys waiting. My foot was tapping uncontrollably with nerves as I waited as patiently as I could and more people joined our crowd. I think it was at this point I first realised that everyone waiting was a guy, there were no girls, but I was way, way too nervous and excited to give it any real thought.
Once the bulk of the crowds had gone, a couple of men who looked like they had just stepped out of a Men in Black audition or something came and collected us. We followed them obediently through the back halls of the arena to what looked like a lounge room or something similar. My guess was Phoebe would come out and greet us in here, she'd maybe take a few questions and that would be it. You can imagine my slight disappointment when a man who said he was her manager came out instead.
I'll try and remember what he said if I can:
"First off thanks for being here tonight and we really hope you enjoyed the show. As you all know you were all picked at random from the pool of people who bought their tickets in the first hour they went on sale and then proceeded to fill in the additional form. I am pleased to inform you that one by one, you will be taken to meet Phoebe in a private room and have your experience with one another. This isn't something she does often as normally she would see all of you at once but as she's feeling particularly good today, she decided she wants to meet you all much more personally. How long you spend with her is at her discretion and if she asks you to leave I suggest you do so or we will remove you forcibly. Everyone ok with that?"
There were excited nods and murmurs from the whole room. This day just kept getting better and better! Not only would we be getting to meet her, but we'd do so individually! The manager wasn't finished though:
"In a moment I will be handing each of you a document. It's something you may have heard of before called an NDA. For those who don't know, NDA stands for Non Disclosure Agreement. In simple terms, signing this means that you cannot talk to anybody about what your experience with Phoebe was like, especially, but not exclusively, the press or any media outlet. Phoebe likes to be as genuine as she can with her fans but you must respect that that comes with a responsibility on your part not to betray her trust if she tells you something in confidence. For the sake of simplicity, assume everything she says is said in confidence while you're with her, ok?"
The situation suddenly felt a lot heavier and more serious, but I can see the logic of it and why it was necessary in hindsight.
"Refusal to sign this will mean that we will escort you out now and you won't get to see Phoebe at all. Are we all agreed?"
Yeses, nods and murmurs once again came from the crowd.
"Good. Now we have a running order for this so first of all can we have..."
I don't remember the first guy's name, or any of them for that matter, just that the first guy wasn't me. Or the second. Or the third. I had to wait until 21 other guys had gotten to meet her before me, can you believe that? It had taken about 3 hours maybe more before I got my chance and when my name was called I sprung up like a jack-in-the-box and followed the manager along a corridor to a room that had a paper sign stuck to it simply saying 'Phoebe Miller'.
"In you go, and remember, she's the boss ok? She says leave, you up and leave immediately, understand?"
"Of course," I replied enthusiastically.
He really didn't need to tell me she was the boss, there was never going to be any doubt about that on my part.
I walked in and was met with Phoebe at on the far end of a couch, her knees drawn up to her chest in that way she always seems to do on photos of her. She had changed out of her performing clothes but was in a very similar ensemble, the same baggy jumper and shorts combo from before. What melted my heart though was how she smiled as I came in. It felt like she was greeting a friend, not just some randomer she'd only just met.
"Hey," she said. "Jack is it?"
She'd taken the time to know my name. That was amazing in itself.
"Y-yes, hi," I replied, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.
