I had the idea for this on the correct day. Then I didn’t have the chance to sit down and write it.
Now I wrote it and… It needs work.
“They let everyone know, right?” I ask my attendant. I trust them. We’ve been together the entire trip. Thirty six concerts in a row crossing the entire globe. This is number seven. Only seven. But I’ll be able to take a break at home after this one. I’m looking forward to that.
“Of course, Sir. You requested the public know where you were landing and when.”
I exhale looking out the window. We’re about there. It’s about time.
Comeback tours are great. Especially when the seats sell out. It wasn’t going to be 36 concerts at first. But the moment the tickets went on line they all sold out. Now it’s double nights. In a few cases, there will be triple concerts.
Never would have thought a thirty something would recieve that in this world.
I follow the procedures and protocols. Everyone gives me right of way.
Then the final door opens.
Screams. Loud, ear popping screams. People calling my name. My name. My stage name. My real name. Everyone is lokoing for me. At me. A broad grin blooms on my face as I offer my fans a wave. I step over and sign a few images of myself and a CD or two. The normal stuff. A meet and greet will happen later.
I’m ushered away. I requested to let everyone know where I was landing and when. I need to see these normal every day fans.
Because the news always knows. The stalkers always know.
The general person, though, rarely hears about it. They offer the biggest support. They just scream my name and hope I notice them out of the crowd. This is part of why I get on stage. I’m not trying to go down in history books. I’m trying to give an average person a reason to keep going.
Those are my fans. They’re who I want to see landing in a new country for my comeback tour. They’re who I need to see or I’ll just give up and go back home.