Gone.

Chapter 9: I'm Still Sorry

"Next, I want to welcome to the stage a wonderful new artist that just recently put out her second album, Homecoming, last week. Please welcome, Lana Beatrice!" Jimmy Fallon said, the sound of the audience cheering, masking the echo of his voice over the intercom backstage. I felt Ken's hand pat me on the back as I walked by, approaching the stage lights, warming my skin like walking outside on a bright summer day.

I smiled and waved at the audience, remembering what Ken had always told me. "Always wave. Always smile. Always act like there is nowhere else you'd rather be." I watched their faces, barely visible behind the cameras and the blinding lights, flashes of hands and smiles going past me as I made my way to Jimmy.

He was standing to the side, clapping along with the audience in his signature black suit and tie, a smile on his face big enough to make me excited. I jokingly bowed down in front of him, hearing him laugh and clap harder as he threw his head back, the audience yelling even louder. I knew in the back of my mind that Ken was proud.

"Oh stop," Jimmy said, jokingly, pulling me in for a quick hug and gesturing towards the seat by his desk. I sat down, attempting to subtly adjust my shirt and clasping my hands together to keep the shaking from being too obvious. My heart was beating out of my chest, nearly taking over the sounds of the yelling and clapping surrounding me. I watched Ken make his way behind the camera, the perfect place for me to get approval from him during the questioning, even after the "pep-talk" that he had given me.

"Lana, welcome!" Jimmy said, leaning his forearms on the desk in front of him, the crowd finally calming down enough for him to speak. He smiled, the crows feet subtly showing at the edges of his eyes, a cup of coffee close enough to the edge of the desk that the smell was wafting over to my nose.

"Thank you! Thank you for having me!" I said, remembering to smile as much as I could, gesturing to both Jimmy and the crowd in front of me. The lights were starting to make me sweat, my armpits moist, the heat of my anxiety rising even further.

"This is your first time on a talk show, right?" he asked, excitedly, leaning in further on his elbows.

"It is!" I said, nodding my head, "I'm so excited to be here. Nervous for sure, but definitely excited." I glanced over at Ken quickly, noticing him slapping his hands together toward me silently, reminding me to keep my hands still. My anxiety continued to creep it's way up my neck, begging me to pick at my fingernails.

Jimmy laughed, pulling a full-sized version of the album out to set on the desk in front of him. "So this beauty just came out last week. Lana, I love this thing. Like, this is some good stuff," he said, tapping the album cover on the desk as if it were a stack of papers that he was trying to pile together correctly.

I felt my cheeks growing hot, the crowd clapping and cheering with the mention of the album. I reached over for my cup of coffee, taking a quick swig, feeling the warmth running down my throat, trying to ground myself in that moment with my anxiety nipping at my heels, chasing me to my impending doom.

He doesn't mean that. It's horrible. No one likes it. You know that.

"Thank you!" I said again, holding the coffee in my hands, trying to focus on the warmth seeping into my fingers as they wrapped around the ceramic mug. "It's been a long time coming. We're very excited about the response it's gotten. If I talk about it too much, I get emotional, you know? I can't cry my first time on TV, Jimmy!"

He laughed again, his face crinkling perfectly and I realized then just how perfect he was for TV. He was charismatic and charming, while also handsome enough to attract people to him. He had an ability to make people comfortable, both those watching and those being interviewed. In that moment, I was thankful for him.