Wildest Dreams // Bruce Dickinson

o.

~Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan
Summer 1993

"Mills. Your video audition made it. You're in. You can leave."

All of the air that was in Millie's lungs seemed to disappear as she heard the words of her agent. She could go. She could be free from the confines of New York and could go to London safely. Sure, she wouldn't have been in this situation if it weren't for a naïve decision she made following a man who was two steps above a stranger. But being young and in what she thought was love at the age of 18 left her in a scary situation by the age of 22, even if Millie was finishing out a successful run in Bye Bye Birdie. Mille was surprised she didn't drop the phone.

"Millie?"

"I heard you, Jean."

"Make sure you get a flight to Heathrow. That's where I will be."

"Okay."

"Keep the ring with you at least. You'll make good money for it."

"Yes ma'am."

Millie hung up the phone and inhaled a breath large enough to make her slightly dizzy. Going on her fourth year in New York City after leaving home to make a name for herself on the Great White Way, she had stayed in a relationship with Bobby, a choreographer that later revealed himself to be a ruthless and abusive partner. Nothing scared her more than the guilt from following him blindly and her chances at having a successful career ruined. Millie knew that Bobby could ruin her at a moment's notice, and that fear kept her trapped. Only until a moment ago.

Jean, Millie's new agent that she had hired without Bobby's knowledge, had convinced a director in London to accept a video taped audition. They had filmed it in seclusion at the one show Bobby couldn't attend, and Jean had left New York City to pitch Millie to any director she could find, no questions asked.

After one agonizing month of waiting, today was the day. Millie could pick up the bag of the only things she wanted with her and take off whenever she wanted. The bag had been packed since the beginning of the month, practically begging her to take a leap of faith. Her short heels clicked on the hardwood floors of her apartment towards the small closet that held coats and shoes, and she dug the very bag she had been hiding out, as well as a more comfortable pair of shoes. Slipping on the sandals and taking a hold of her escape bag, Millie took a deep breath.

Millie could practically see and feel in her head her mother shaking her head woefully at the decision to leave the country, and feel the hurt that her father felt the first time she ran away from home, but Millie only cared a little that she would be starting her life over for a second time in less than two decades, because her only cares were positive.

She knew that she could be something without the hawking control of a man watching her every move. Millie no longer cared about what Bobby thought of her actions, nor the abysmal reaction he would have to her departure.

As for the thought of leaving the city that made her a star?

Millicent Liann Weston cared no longer.