Anya
I dreamed of being on the stage, singing the songs I wrote, hoping it would inspire others. And I have achieved it. I just never thought I wouldn't get to love it. My dreams have shifted ever since I let them take over everything; my heels, my clothes, my makeup, hell even my hair. I looked at my feet wearing a glittery 5-inch and thought, what if I could smudge this makeup all over my face? What if I could just take this blonde wig off, ruffle this white royal dress, and take these heels off? Then I could just run...But should I? Can I?
“Hey, Anya!” And suddenly, the thoughts stop. I am back again in this stadium filled with empty seats. The faint instrumental of my song is echoing in this big dome but it suddenly stopped. My eyes are now focused on the same dance instructor I had during all my concerts. I can feel the glare of his blue eyes slowly turning me into ice. “What’s happening?”
“I’m sorry I am just lost in-”
“Well, you cannot be acting like that in front of your fans! You need to get out of your head and kill it there!” It should be a motivational speech, which I am forcing myself to take like that, but his deep voice and roar of orders make me feel like I am in the military. I sighed and was ready to restart but then he told us to take a 10-minute break. I sighed once again as I exited the stage left with my backup dancers. Stepping down the small steps, I look up at the red empty chairs that will soon be filled with strangers who have loved me, the people who barely knew me but have supported me throughout my journey as a singer. I will never want to disappoint them.
As soon as my painfully high heels hit the ground, I felt a soft cloth on my forehead. My gaze shifted to Kade, his face’s alarmingly close that I first saw his hazel blue eyes. He is using his handkerchief to wipe on my forehead to which I don’t understand because I barely sweat and we are in an air-conditioned room. 
“Hey what happened?” He asked me.
I sighed and looked down. “Nothing much, really”
“Hey,” He lifted my head back up with his index and thumbs in between my chin, having no choice but to stare at his eyes. “I know you. It is just ‘nothing’. I am always here for you, you know that.”
I let out another sigh. “Well, I’m just worried about doing things wrong in front of my fans since I have to sing bonus songs I did not get to memorize and new dances as well.”
“Oh, I know you can do it. You’re Anya! The Philippine’s rising star!” He clasped his hands on mine. “You need to stay strong and confident.” He smiled, and I smiled back. I hope he believed in the lies I told. 
Kade called out to my dance instructor who was drinking a bottle of water on the stage. “Can you guys try the flying one now?” To which my dance instructor agreed.
I panicked. “Hey, I told you I am not prepared for that yet.”
“C’mon Anya, there will only be four hours left before your concert. I need to post an Instagram story about it so your fans will be more excited!” Before I scrunch my face, Kade held my cheeks with his two hands and put his forehead on mine. “You can do it, I believe in you.” A kiss on the forehead is what I got before I was sent back into the stage. 
As they put the straps on me, Kade is on the third row, phone already pulled out to record me for his Instagram story. I sighed--too many to count for today. Since yesterday, he posted more pictures and videos of me on his Instagram than my management and I could on mine, and he did the same today. But everything he captured today is what also went down yesterday--car trips, dance practice, recording for the bonuses, and another practice after the 30-minute break. I was then told to relax because they will lift me in a few minutes. I nod at the staff and look back to where Kade is. He gave a big thumbs up, signing that I can do it. Then I can feel the ropes pulling me up slowly. I watched as my feet left the stage. “You can do it, Anya!” I heard Kade shout. I feel my heartbeat increasing the higher I get so I just close my eyes and lookup. As soon as I feel my body tilt forward, I raise my hands to form a T. I pretend that I am an eagle, not taking time to claw hard on the bark and just fly. Like I’m taking a huge step quickly and not afraid of what will happen. I think I have an idea of what I’m going to do with this. 
I let myself visualize that I am a brave bird, taking new heights and detaching myself from whatever is keeping me on the ground. I feel like a bigger eagle with these gigantic wings and use it to take a huge leap--no, huge flight--of faith to take me to the place I want to be. One day, people were still below me, shining their lights to signal that they are still there with me although I am this kind of an eagle. 
“Okay, that’s good now.” I heard them say as I felt my body being lowered slowly. I was given a few good jobs, Anya by the staff, and a woohoo! I know you can do it! By Kade. 
I believe that I have the power to dominate the world, as they say--that I have an impact on my audiences with my songs and my voice, as Cosmopolitan says. Though, I can’t use them to take down what is stopping me from getting what I want because they are what lead me to where I am. I just kept all the weight to myself and forced them out on the stage, but they are all masked as well. It’s like I am on the Yellow Brick Road but with the Emerald City being farther away from me. Well, as they say, it was all tell-tales, all just a fantasy, a visualization. A sad and lonely brick road of false hope. All I gotta do is just keep following what reality has in store for me.
Though, what reality has given me, doesn’t always make sense at some point. In some of my music videos and concerts, my mom would always suggest these crazy props and stunts. What’s worse is she never tells me. Right now, I just found out my mom wants to add fire hoops behind me and a huge one in the center where I could be inside it. I have no idea why mom thinks of these things when it doesn’t make sense with what I plan for the album. It’s supposed to be the darkness and sadness of the world disguised as pop-sy, cute tunes and aesthetic if music critics look hard enough on my candy-coated lyrics. Why does there need to be a fire? According to the dance instructor: because we need a wow factor. 
Although the majority of my sets and plans are in the hands of my mom, the setlist is on me, the aesthetic of the album, and what I write--as long as it is not too “depressing” or whatever they say. I am at least lucky to have control over my art because there is no way I would let someone touch whatever I created with my bare hands.
We are now taking a longer break this time--one hour--in preparation for the big concert. I’m in my changing room, waiting for my hairstylist and my make-up artist to arrive. I am wearing a simple white T-shirt with a Minecraft painting print placed where my chest is and jogging pants, just chilling on the couch, which is placed right beside the door. I have a water bottle in one hand and a phone in the other. I saw a notification that I was tagged in an Instagram story so I stopped playing my Kleptocats: Cartoon Network game and proceeded to the story. I saw that it is from Kade: a picture of me sitting down, playing my game with one hand. I look to my left and stare at Kade smiling at probably the replies to the picture.
“Hey,” He caught me looking. Kade scooted closer to me and put his arms on my shoulders. “Look at this. A lot of people think you look cute. Oh! And they also thought we were cute together.” Then she showed a picture of me playing the game but instead, his face popped up close to the frame, showing a very silly smile. I scoffed a smile, which made him satisfied. He then lifts his phone and I see him and me on the screen so I flash my teeth. After Kade took the picture, he moved back to the end of the sofa. My phone popped up a notification again and it’s an Instagram post of us with the caption: Support our baby Anya for her concert. One hour more of waiting before it starts!
“‘Baby’?”
“What? They like it!”
And as I see it, it is flooded with comments of my fans shipping us, yet again, and telling us to get married already. “Geez. We’re not even in a relationship.”
“Just let them ship us, Anya,” Kade told me. He looked up from his phone and to me. “Let them enjoy this. You don’t wanna ruin the fun, do you?”
I sighed. He’s right, but it feels uncomfortable. My fans only shipped us when I told on live TV that Kade is, and I will say in verbatim, "my savior, like a kind of superhero." Though I was 17 at that time with little knowledge about Kade. I mean, he is a good friend in some parts.
It’s just that I made a mistake for calling him a savior.