He smiled once again, at them, acknowledging their hellos for fear of the gossip that might start if he didn�t. he could see it now, something about him being stuck-up, feeling he was �too good� to greet the other people or a certain so and so. He almost sighed, but then he realized where he was. In the company of 100 000 people, some watching him, some not. But it was never safe. Not when he was out. They were always watching.
The lights began to dim. Relief flooded through him. Thank god. At least now he could be a little more relaxed. The emcees came out, blabbering on about something which he couldn�t comprehend. He was too tired to. The headache he was having right now was killing him. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and rest, if not sleep. But he couldn't. That would be lethal to his career.
The crowd laughed at something, reminding him where he was. At the Grammies. He didn�t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. Both were not an option at the moment. Laughing drew attention. The latter even more.
He tried to listen, he tried really hard, but it was useless. He had been to one too many of these so far and after awhile they all sounded the same. The jokes, the nominees, the surprise, the disappointment. It was better to just take things as it came, not to expect anything. They were all the same anyway. You won some, you lost some. Big deal.
Suddenly, he heard a familiar song. He cocked his head to his side as he tried to place it. He looked up at the screen. Oh yes. This was one of their songs. Right. It was being nominated for some kind of award. He wasn�t paying attention so he didn�t know. He tried to focus as the rest of the nominations played, as one of his fellow celebrities started to announce the winner. He could feel his attention wandering. He tried to focus once again.
The crowd started clapping and he looked around, disorientated. What was happening? oh yes, they had won. He felt the blonde next to him nudge his elbow. His friend shot him a look, telling him to get up. Oh.
He got up, the celebrity smile on his face, the charming one. The five of them rose from their seats, hugging one another, walking through the crowd to the stage. They walked up the stage, aware of the camera swinging over to catch their actions. They saw the crowd, checking out their clothes, some watching them in awe, some in disgust. It didn�t matter. Everyone was entitled to his or her own option. No one was perfect. You couldn't please everyone. Now that, was a lesson he learnt the hard way, the concept all too familiar to him now.
They started their thanks, their jokes, and their celebrity magic. Him included. Though, his jokes were half hearted. His thanks, not. That was genuine� most of it. He picked up the sign of their hard work and kissed it, holding it up, then thanking the crowd once again.
The five of them walked back to their seats, their expressions tired once again. On and off stage, they were two completely different people. But that was the way it was. He saw their expressions. They were all a mirror image of his. A mix of emotions. Unreadable eyes. Charismatic smile.
He took his seat, smiling at those who offered their congratulations, those who offered their smiles. He sat through the rest of the show, tired, happy, sad. He didn�t know. They often blurred as one. Neutrality. Somehow, all he felt was apathy to all this. He guessed he was numb to it all now.
It was a business now. The award shows, the appearances. There were only a few things in his celebrity life that he found truly wonderful. Reaching out to those around him, especially those who were less fortunate than them. Reaching out to the fans. Recording. Performing. These were all his little loves about this business. The things that made it a little more worthwhile.
Sometimes he wished they were back in the beginning. When they were famous in Europe, nobodies in America. It was nice that way. Living the celebrity life and at the same time, the nobody�s life. That worked out well.
But it wasn�t that way now.
Now they were real celebrities. Now there were strings that held them down. Rules. Regulations.
Sometimes he wondered why he did this, put himself through this torture. Or maybe not torture. This hassle. The media was something he didn�t particularly like, something that could be your best friend and worst enemy. Depending on how you looked at it.
Attention was something he loved, yes. But constantly being watched, spied on? That was a completely different thing altogether. Being talked about? Nah, he didn�t really mind. Being gossiped about, his love life being published to the world 24/7, sometimes screwing up the more precious things in life? That was a completely different thing.
Oh yes. and being tired 24/7? Not his favourite feeling in the world.
But then, every job had its ups and downs. Its advantages and disadvantages. It was a fact of life. Something that wouldn�t change. Something he couldn't change.
Applause sounded in the auditorium. People started getting up. The lights came on, blinding him. he winced. It was a bother.
He slipped back into his celebrity persona. The charming guy everyone wanted to get to know. He was pro at this. Switching sides. He knew what people wanted from him and he gave it to them. But there was a price.
He got into his car. He drove off. The music was blasting. He loosened the tie he was wearing. He threw the jacket onto the passenger seat beside him.
I don't want to be
a loser...no!...
I don't want to be
an almost was
I don't want to be a white trash
Working class chump
I don't want to be a loser anymore
That's why I want to be
a rock star
I want to be the king
I want to be on top, yeah
I just want to be a rock star
Yeah...
now I just want to be famous
I want to be the guy
That everybody wants
[laughter]
I want to be on TV shows
And wear designer clothes
I want a girlfriend who does
not drink beer
I want to drive a fast car
And sleep with certain
movie stars
I want to sing the songs
That all those little people
Want to hear
I just want to be a rock star
I want to be like all those
people up in first class
I just want to be a rock star
I want to tell the little people
They can kiss my ass
I just want to be a rock star
I just want to get laid
I just want to be a rock star
A different girl
For every day
That's why I want to be
a rock star
Be like all those guys
on the MTV
I just want to be a rock star
I want to make those girls on
the Real World
Fantasize about me
I just want to be a rock star
I want to be the king
I want to be on top
I just want to be a rock star
I just want to be famous
Everybody everywhere
wants to be famous
and everybody everywhere
wishes they could tell
Everybody everywhere
to go to Hell
I just want to be a rock star
I just want to get high
I just want to party like
a rock star
Until the day I die
I just want to be a rock star
He laughed. He actually laughed out loud at that song. Celebrity life? It wasn�t like that all the time. sure, it was pretty enjoyable at times, having its benefits, but to sacrifice your privacy just for the parties, the branded clothes, the money? Not the best reason. But the song was good� in its won twisted way it was what a lot of people dreamt of. Fame. He begged to differ.
Sometimes he just wanted everyone to forget him. Forget his name. Who he was. Become invisible.
He couldn't do that now. No, all he could do was get home. To get home and go to bed where nothing but the bleak darkness was waiting. No cameras, no boundaries, no restrictions, no rules. Just him.
And that�s exactly what he did. He got home, changed, and fell unto the bed. He didn�t bother with the lights. Darkness was good. It hid everything. It made him invisible. It made everything seem far away.
That was what he sought comfort from.
The bleak darkness. His escape.