Part 1
The sun has long since set, but it matters not. I live for the chill of the night… The thrill of not knowing what comes next. I guess, in a way, that would be my downfall.
My name is Donna Olivevine, and I am the star of my own show. Literally. At the moment? I’m strumming away on a guitar while belting out a song to an excited audience.
“When the moon’s light,
Strikes the land,
And all that’s left,
Is bright and grand,
That’s when the doors,
The doors,
The doors to my heart,
The doors,
The doors,
The doors open up!
Silver light,
Brighter than the night,
Open up,
Reveal what’s inside!
Never have I ever,
Felt this way before,
The way my heart leaps,
And turns for you!
Never have I ever,
Longed for something,
As much as now,
For yooooou!
When the moon’s light,
Strikes the land,
And all that’s left,
Is bright and grand,
That’s when the doors,
The doors,
The doors to my heart,
The doors,
The doors,
The doors open up!
Silver light,
Brighter than the night,
Open up,
Reveal what’s inside!
Reveal what’s inside!”
I play a guitar solo on my electric guitar as my fellow band mates halt their playing. A tall fellow with muscles like mountains breaks through the crowd, coming up close. He sways with the music and I extend a hand to him. He accepts my offer and we stand on stage together.
“You never seen it quite like this,
A love too big to hide,
Come on and lean in for a kiss,
There’s never been,
A love like this!” he sings.
“When the moon’s light,
Strikes the land,
And all that’s left,
Is bright and grand,” I sing.
“That’s when the doors,
The doors,
The doors to my heart,
The doors,
The doors,
The doors open up!” we sing.
“The star dappled sky,
Stretched way up high,
Even that,
Cannot,
Contain my love for you.
No, even the sky,
The dappled sky,
The sky cannot contain my love for you…
Oh my moon drenched love!” I sing.
The crowd goes wild. Everyone is cheering. I glance at the stranger I invited up and he nods. We sing the ENTIRE song again, this time together.
“Thank you, thank you everybody! Goodnight!” I cry out, head banging as I give them one last riff.
Performance is over and I’m changing back into casual clothes in the women’s dressing room. The bright lights of the show are still shining and the music plays over in my head. Not just our last song, but a few of our earlier songs, as well. I hum to myself and quite nearly squeeze my head through the arm hole of my shirt.
There is then a knock on the door. Assuming it’s one of the ladies from my band, I go to answer it, my shirt is on backwards and so I quickly pull it off to switch around. I answer the door, my shirt still in hand. It’s- That’s not one of my band mates…
“Hey, uh, sorry to bother you, but-“
“I’M PRACTICALLY NAKED!” I scream even though I have a bra and pants on.
“My bad…” it’s the guy whom I let sing with me on stage.
“What, are you doing here?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“I wanted to thank you for tonight. I had a great time. When our voices harmonized on stage, I got chills through my entire body…” the guy says.
“Okay? Did you really need to break in on me while I was getting dressed? Where are my security guards?” I ask, looking around.
Sometimes, the security guards don’t do as good of a job as they should. I even tried paying them higher, but they still slack off sometimes. I bet they are off in the break room having coffee and cookies. Well, this guy doesn’t seem to be much of a threat; if anything, he’s a bit clueless, a bit dumb.
“Security guards? I didn’t see any,” the guy says, checking his nails casually. “So your name is Donna Olivevine, right? I’ve been listening to your songs since the album first dropped.”
“Okay, sure, you know my name, but everyone does. What’s your name?” I ask.
“Erick, son of Derick. And if we had a son, I’d name him Ferick,” the guy says with a sly grin.
I never really got that good of a luck at him before. He’s got blonde hair, well, used to be blonde, I can tell his sandy brown hair was more than likely blonde when he was younger as a tiny bit of blonde still is peaking through. He’s shirtless, exposing his brick-like pecks. His arms are, uh… He either is using steroids or he’s very keen on doing arm exercises daily.
My eyes continue to scan down his body. He’s got a beer belly, but I don’t think he was quite as far back when we were singing together. If he just downed a few mugs, that would explain why he was deranged enough to come in here. His pants are a bit tight, and I avert my gaze, blushing.
“I think you’re very beautiful… Is there a chance we could meet again?” Erick asks, running a hand through his hair.
“You kinda just broke into my changing room, I’m partially naked, and you’re asking if we can meet again?” I ask, uncrossing my arms so I can cross them again.
“Alright, I understand… I just feel there’s a special connection between us. It could work, you know…” he says, shrugging.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve sneaking into my room. I certainly hope you don’t treat other women like this,” I comment.
“I was only brave enough for you,” Erick says, bowing at the waist, making his gut hung low.
“You’re kinda cute… Maybe I’ll consider it, but you better sober up and stop sneaking into changing rooms!” I yell, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“I need to do some ab exercises as well,” Erick says, grinning.
He slips me his phone number with a wink. This has got to be the worst idea ever. I sigh and take the phone number. He departs just as quickly as he arrived.
