𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝘼𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝘽𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙚!

THIRTEEN - Achievements Mean

MARCH, 1975

It was exactly 12:00am, March 1st, 1975, and Mari couldn't sleep.

Her first Grammy Award ceromony.

How could she sleep, really? She felt like her whole life had led up to this moment. What if she didn't get the award? She would be pretty embarrassed, honestly- not only that, but the whole week she'd been waiting for this day to arrive would mean absolutely nothing.

At least she knew David was going, so were John and Yoko. She knew the other nominees of her catagory, and if she had to guess, Elton John had it in the bag for record of the year. However, she was decently confident when it came to Best New Artist, going off the fact she'd never really listened to the other artists.

She loved her dress. She was a glam artist, she priced herself in such, however, tonight she decided to tone it down a bit. She wore a grass-green satin dress, sinched in the front at the bust and the waist. The sinches were held together with rhinestones. It was a long dress, though not long enough to touch the ground, and shorter at the front. She thought it was gorgeous, she wore off-white heels with rhinestones on the front to match.

She was waiting for her limo to arrive at the event, she hated having to wait for something so important. She sat with her legs crossed, her fingers tapping on her thigh, staring at the city through the window.

She liked how it looked. That's the thing, the idea of living in the city sounded so nice, but it wasn't, really. The environment was so dangerous, she thought; everyday she woke up, hoping to god that none of her friends overdosed the night before during the party they told her about. She honestly couldn't believe Mick was able to talk her into celebrating her birthday, she usually just went out, bought herself something to eat, and was through with it.

She just loved the idea of Berlin. It was gorgeous and quiet, the scenery was beautiful. She'd been there about a year before during a tour, she loved it. She hated that she was just meeting David, it seemed they were growing closer and closer every day that passed. Before the year even ended, she wouldn't even see him anymore.

Her thoughts were put to an end as the limo finally immobilized, coming to a stop at the entrance to the venue. There was no fancy entrance like she was expecting, no paparazzi in sight, just a door to walk into. She took her purse and continued into the venue, waking through a backstage area.

She was suddenly stopped as someone working backstage asked for her name.

"Marionette Vienna."

The man gave a hum, looking down at a clipboard he had, "What are you nominated for?"

"Best New Artist and Record of The Year."

"Ah, there." he said, pointing somewhere on his board that Mari couldn't see.

"Here's your seat." he said, writing down her seat number and giving it to her.

First row, twelve down. Seat 15– a very good seat. It wouldn't take her too long to reach the stage if she had to accept any awards.

She nodded, giving a small thank you as the man walked away. She shoved the number into her purse, moving onto the area she was supposed to be in.

She saw people like Art Garfunkel, Paul Simon, Stevie Wonder, Roberta Flack, and began to doubt her own talent. She had to be a fool to think she would be presented an award against all these other artists. She saw Diana Ross, Elton John, and Cher were sat in a row, chatting away. Aretha Franklin passed by where Mari was standing to greet Bette Midler.

Mari's eyes searched and searched for John, Yoko, David, God anyone would make the situation better at that point. Alice Cooper was supposed to be there, right? Maybe she could go try and talk to Cher. In front of Diana Ross? Hell no.