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But just as I'm about to step through and leave my old life behind, I hear a voice calling out to me.
"Axel!"
I turn, my heart skipping a beat as I see Sasha running towards me, her hair flying behind her in the wind.
"Sasha," I breathe, my voice caught in my throat. "What are you doing here?"
She stops in front of me, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. "I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," she says, her eyes shining with emotion.
I feel a rush of warmth spread through me, and I can't help but smile. "I'm glad you came," I say softly.
She reaches out, her hand resting on my arm. "Last night..." she starts, her voice trailing off as she searches for the words. "It meant something to me."
I nod, my heart swelling with emotion. "It meant something to me too," I say, my voice rough with feeling.
We stand there for a moment, lost in each other's eyes, the rest of the world falling away. And then, she leans in, her lips brushing against mine in a soft, tender kiss.
"Come back to me," she whispers, her forehead resting against mine.
I swallow hard, my heart aching with the weight of the promise I want to make. But I know I can't. The future is too uncertain.
"I'll try," I say instead, my voice barely above a whisper.
I pull away, my hand slipping from hers as I turn towards the gates. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I step forward.
But even as I walk away, even as I leave her behind, I can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning. That somehow, someway, our paths will cross again.
But for now, all I can do is focus on the mission ahead and hope that, somewhere out there, I will find Sasha again.
3
SASHA
The charged energy of the Staples Center pulses through my veins as I take the stage, the roar of the sold out crowd washing over me like a tidal wave. I can't help but grin, the exhilaration mixed with a touch of nervousness that I expertly mask under my dazzling stage persona. The lights are vibrant, painting the arena in a kaleidoscope of colors that matches the adrenaline pumping through my body.
As I launch into my first song, I feel an instant connection with my audience, each lyric sung not just with my voice but with my soul. I pour my heart into every word, every note, making sure that every single person in this room feels seen and heard. The crowd is a sea of faces, each wave of cheers and applause lifting me higher and higher.
I spot signs with my name, eyes shimmering with adoration, and a sense of profound gratitude mixed with the heavy responsibility of uplifting so many hearts washes over me. This is what I live for, this exchange of energy, this communion of spirits.
I dance across the stage, my body moving in perfect sync with the pulsing beat, the music flowing through me like electricity. I feel alive, invincible, as if I could conquer the world with just my voice and the love of my fans.
As I hit the final note of my opening song, I'm breathless, my heart racing with the sheer thrill of it all. I take a moment to bask in the applause, in the love radiating from every corner of the arena.
"What's up, LA?" I shout into the microphone, my voice echoing through the space. "Are you ready to have some fucking fun tonight?"
The answering roar is deafening, and I can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep inside me. This is where I belong, on this stage, with these people, sharing my music and my soul with the world.
As the last echoes of applause fade, I step off the stage, my heart still pounding with the thrill of the performance. The moment my heels hit the concrete floor backstage, I feel a shift, a subtle change in the air. It's as if I've stepped into a different world, one that's not filled with the vibrant energy of the crowd, but with the quiet hum of behind-the-scenes activity.
Backstage is a hive of controlled chaos, a stark contrast to the polished glamor of the stage. The air is thick with the mingling scents of hairspray, sweat, and the faint aroma of catered food. Technicians and stage crew bustle about, their faces focused and hands busy with the intricate workings of the show. The low murmur of voices and the crackling of walkie-talkies creates a constant backdrop of sound, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or shout of direction.
Amidst the hustle and bustle, I spot Tessa, my assistant and confidante, weaving her way towards me with a bottle of water and a towel in hand. Her pixie cut is dyed a vibrant purple today, and despite the chaos around her, she exudes a sense of calm and control.
"Amazing performance, Sasha!" Tessa exclaims, her eyes shining with pride as she hands me the water. "You had them eating out of the palm of your hand."
I take a long swig, the cool liquid soothing my throat. "Thanks, Tessa. It was electric out there tonight."
As I dab the sweat from my brow, I notice a flicker of concern cross Tessa's face. "Everything okay?" I ask, lowering the towel.
