𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝟮 ⁑ t.holland

27. for old time's sake

It was weird to look out at an empty stadium for the first time in a while. I was rarely ever early enough to see the building completely bare. Although there were a few tech guys walking around, dragging long wires across the front of the stage, other musicians back stage checking the equipment, I was all by myself on the stage.

I've been doing this for so long, I didn't know why my anxiety had spiked all of a sudden. Maybe it was because this would be the first time everyone saw me since... well, you know. Maybe it was because I thought they wouldn't like this more laid-back version of me. 

What if they hated me?

The show sold out.

What if they hated the music?

Most of the new releases hit top three.

I didn't know why I was stressing myself out for no reason knowing damn well everything was gonna be just fine. 

Maybe I couldn't get that night out of my head.

Suddenly, I hear a loud "pop" noise with a bright flash practically blinding me. 

If you decide you wanna be in the public eye but you can't handle the hate comments, or the yelling, or the name calling... why are you even considering this kind of career? I knew people would call me weak for admitting to the fact that those threats really freaked me out, so I chose to act like it didn't bother me. Like it never even happen. 

The only person who brought that moment up was Tom when we had gotten back home. He asked if I was feeling okay, possibly because I had barely said a single word since then. I told him that it was just a little shocking but nothing I couldn't handle.

In all honesty, I wanted to cry and hold him until I had no tears left. I wanted to report it, or act all paranoid and make Monica quadruple the security for the tour. But, I didn't. I pushed it to the furthest place in my mind and moved on. I walked it off.

I'm starting to wonder if that was a mistake though.

My attention snaps back to a familiar face making its way up on the stage next to me. Tom smiled once our eyes locked and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. He was panting a little. Maybe he was looking around for me. I don't know.

He took a step back and admired the empty stadium, exhaling. "Wow" He looked back over to me with an excited smile. "I don't know how you do it"

I laugh a little and dig my hands into my pockets. "You do it too. Whenever you go on tour, you're asked to talk in front of thousands of people."

"Hundreds" He corrects me. "Nowhere near as many as this."

I shake my head and smile, not really knowing how to keep this conversation going. I guess I didn't really know how I dealt with all of it. I can't remember the first time I sang in front of a crowd as big as this one because I was shit-faced. I wish I didn't waste those early years of my career numbing the pain because now, when people ask me questions like "how do I do it?", I don't know what to tell them. I just... do it. It comes that easily.

"I ordered food for us" He says, changing the subject after a few seconds of comfortable silence. "I got us some poutine and--"

I burst out laughing. "Our first night in Vancouver and you wanted to try everything Canadian, huh?" I tease him a little, making him laugh with me.

"No, no... that's tomorrow. Tonight though..." He wraps his hands around my lower back, pulling me closer to him. "It's just us, a king sized bed... and..." His lips now inches away from now, I smirk.