The Simple Reality

Can't Stay Away

Magazine London was exciting that evening, following everything else that was. The slick building had an energy that was uplifting, setting a very social space, specifically reserved for a privately hosted after party.

The inside was decorated with black draping to make the room more intimate, with leather sofas around, and decorated rugs beneath their feet. Drinks and items were placed on vintage luggages in the center which took place as coffee tables. The only thing that really screamed ABBA was the tall lights sign of their logo against the wall, much like what they have at the ABBA Museum. Those who had the privilege to be invited to the after party were able to find the members entering in, weaving through the small crowd of guests, to make their way onto the other side, an area more private and separate from the main end.

Music was in the background blending in with conversations of individuals who were guaranteed to have a great sociable time meeting new people, seeing old friends, and to recognizing the iconic pop group that was being celebrated that evening. It was an ultimately rare event and each person knew it would perhaps never be repeated again.

Chatter flowed endlessly across the room, all four members in different spots, socializing with different people, to whoever approached them. Other artists as well as invitees had the opportunity to meet their loved group, one that had been an inspiration to so many for decades and continuing on. Even more than that, the event, though completely top tier, was found to be casual and simple for everyone around. It combined people from the very important guests to the very youngest of the family members who were there to just enjoy and engage in the same interesting conversations considering it was very rare for them to have that opportunity.

"What a phenomenal show," acknowledged a woman with blonde locks in conclusion to her short chat with Frida. She was simply just another invited guest who was eternally grateful for a memorable conversation that she hadn't even predicted to happen until late that evening. And the young girl that sat beside Frida happened to be none other than the spirited Signe, agreeing freely in the discussion. That young girl didn't always get to see Frida, but whenever that chance occurred, she'd of course settle beside her. "Linda's daughter?" the woman asked. She looked just like her, it wasn't hard to assume.

"Yes," Signe confirmed. "The cute one."

"Well, I must say, you know it's Linda's when you note this attitude," Frida explained. She'd said it teasingly and put her arm around her. "What is so cute about you, dear?" she laughed, squeezing the girls cheek's between her sarcastic words. "Nothing at all."

"Grandma says different," she defended herself, making those around her laugh.

"Ah, okay. If Agnetha sees you cute, that changes things," she squeezed on to Signe's hand and returned her attention to the woman.

"It's awesome that you can go with your grandparents and finally see the work they do, isn't it?" the woman laughed. "Not many can do that, you know. How remarkable they can still do it after forty years!"

"Yeah, it's very cool," Signe agreed. "It's really no wonder they're together again," she added laughingly. Attention was grabbed by the woman and Frida who'd both had eyes that narrowed in attempt to understand better. "It took forever. Though I don't know why everyone is that crazy about them in the end. They're just my grandparents. They just make cool music." Though thought was circling on the other words, the wiser choice was to comment on the last part.

"Lucky you can say that," the woman teased. "So many wish they could," she laughed.

"And I don't know why. Really, I see a lot more than I need to at home," she threw her head back and giggled. "To me, they're a lot cooler here. They a—" Frida's palm patted Signe's leg and hurried to add to that to not raise awareness to the statement. A lot was already being said.