Anya
It's dark.
My surroundings are so dim that I can't even see my feet. Besides my heart racing, I can hear voices from every corner, chanting my name in syllables.
An-ni-ya
An-ni-ya
An-ni-ya
An-ni-ya
The darkness is replaced by a thousand spotlights, and I can finally see my feet wearing those pink glittery heels my mom bought me before the show and the pleated skirt of my pink and black split-colored dress. A familiar tune started playing, and the chants grew louder.
It's time, Anya, I told myself. You can do this.
I managed to look up due to my heavy big blonde wig. Thousands of people filled the stadium, screaming my name and how much they loved me. I want to shout it back at them, but my line is about to start, so instead, I just put on a little smirk and started singing.
The crowd went wild when I sang the first part. I swayed my body with the music and moved to different corners of the stage for each of them to see me. As soon as the chorus hit, the crowds sang along with me.
This is who I am
This is who I am
You cannot change me
This is who I wanna be
What an irony, I thought. This is not what I want—this is not me. But I have to keep going.
This is who I am
This is who I am
I will always stay true to myself
And be me
After that, backup dancers entered from each side of the stage wearing high-waisted panties and half-cup bras, both with different pink and black patterns so they would match my short-sleeved and collared latex dress. As the beat hit, we started dancing. My fans then started screaming, some my name and some just aah~ while waving their merch, flags, and signs.
Seeing my fans enjoying my performance made me happy, but I can't get over how heartbreaking it feels that I am lying to them. I'm singing a song about being myself while pretending to be someone else. As much as I hate it, I have to keep going. Aniya,—I thought to myself, again—you will get through this.
Someday.
>< <> <> ><
The show has come to an end—at last. The backup dancers, make-up artists, and the rest of the staff decided that we should celebrate the success of the world tour and congratulate ourselves for the hard work we put in to make this show awesome. This is something I did not expect—reaching new heights, performing on stage, and becoming a worldwide hit artist with a sold-out concert?! This is my massive dream!
Except this is not me, nor what I wanted.
I thank the staff for being such sweethearts before heading out of the back door. Opening the door slightly, I can hear roars and screams from outside. Though I couldn't see what was happening because of the backs of two large and buff bodyguards blocking the view. I do not mind it because I've been doing this for years. I stepped outside and closed the door. Although I'm still facing the door, I can see the lights flash so bright and quick that I'm afraid I may have a seizure if I turn around. But still, I turn around. The two bodyguards that once blocked my way now stand beside me, and now I see crowds of paparazzi and fans waiting for me to show up; most have their phones ready to take pictures. Although exhausted, I flash my brightest smile because they love this character I am showing. And I am an entertainer. Therefore, I should give them what they want.
I carefully moved forward as my head moved from left to right. The whole sidewalk is almost filled. It feels like I'm Moses in the sea of people, where the red carpet in between them is the only thing parting it. I can hear their screams growing louder and louder with every step. I am looking straightforward, trying to ignore the non-VIPs who are struggling to reach their merch out to me due to the barricade and other bodyguards blocking their way. I can hear the clicks of the cameras and my fans saying things like "Anya, I love you~!" or sometimes with curses, "Gosh Anya, I fucking love you!" everywhere. I thought of turning my head and saying them back, but before the words left my mouth, the bodyguard to my right stopped me.
"It's the queen's orders, princess." Uck! The way he called me a princess. My emotions must've been painted on my face because the same bodyguard stated: "It's for your safety, ma'am. She just doesn't want you to get hurt."
My ass! If only I could punch him, though I doubt I could hurt the man; he'll probably stay standing like a statue. Besides, he is right--he's just doing whatever he was told to do.
The end of the carpet led me to a pearly white limousine, which was not like the very fancy and expensive one like the Ferrari we had in America. It is more like the one they use at weddings, which I'm not complaining about- a simple Toyota car could work. The bodyguard to my left opened the door to the car. I turned around and stared at my loyal fans one more time. Seeing their faces lit up and screaming, " I love yous, " made my smile shine brighter. I opened my mouth to say something, but again, the bodyguard on my right pushed me inside the vehicle a little too hard that I stumbled a bit. I glared at him, and he let out a soft sorry. I finally stepped in and sat on the long black chair near the door. The two guards then rode after; their heavy weight caused the vehicle to sink and shake slightly.
I've been looking through the window since sitting down, watching tons of my fans waving and screaming outside the limo. Although they struggle at the hands of enormous beasts, they still have the biggest grin. I smiled sadly. I guess they are just like me too.
