The Right Side of the Wrong Bed || Bruno Mars

Epilogue

First all of, thank you to babysquirrel for suggesting the music I used for this epilogue! x and um *takes a deep breath* I can't believe this is it. The final shot.

I want to thank and mention you all but I'm afraid to miss anyone :\ so I'm just gonna say thank you, thank you so so much to you and to you, and you and you—you guys know who you are especially the ones I talk to often and I made friends with. The ones who take time to leave a comment. I appreciate it so much. Reading your comments is actually my favorite part of this whole writing experience. And to the ones who message me asking for an update, thank you! It shows that you're really interested in the story. I'm sorry btw for the slow updates. Thank you for not giving up waiting lol.

Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart!

Just a quick special thanks to @Hooligan Authors from Twitter for promoting not just my story, but all those other creative stories done by Hooligan writers.

There won't be a sequel. I'm sorry. This is just it. Hopefully, you're satisfied with the ending (omg *crosses fingers*) If you have any questions, please comment it and I might publish another part where those questions will be answered :) Follow me on Twitter @kingbrxnz (yup, changed my user)

So as usual, right after every story, I have a new one. If you still trust me and want to be entertained with my imaginations, I hope you join me on another writing journey. Check out my new Bruno Mars Fan Fiction, "Six Feet Not Deep Enough." (Updates won't be as fast as you want them to be. I think I should warn you.)

Epilogue

Wind, a blast of it, hit Bruno's face once he hopped off the plane. Right before it could fly away, he held his hat securing it on his head. It had been a while since the New York breeze kissed his skin. It was extra cold for the fact that it was Christmas Eve.

At the airport, the famous entertainer was escorted inside the building where a ton of paparazzis were eager to take shots and get a word from him. He was bombarded with nonstop flashes of cameras. This made him uncomfortable every time but the right to complain he knew he didn't have. He had chosen this kind of life and therefore he ought to accept its complications.

The singer was led to a small crowd of fans behind some railings awaiting his arrival and holding CDs and magazines they hoped to be signed by their idol. With genuine happiness, he took the time to accommodate them, scribbling his name on the stuffs they brought with a pen he had borrowed from someone who would probably frame the thing once this little meet-and-greet was over. All Bruno heard were screams and compliments and in return, all his humble self could say was "thank you."

A copy of his third album was handed to him as he made it to the end of the line. He gladly took the CD and without looking closely at the girl who wanted it signed, asked, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Amber."

He snapped his head up to finally see who he was missing. His eyes glowed at the sight of his old friend (sort of). "Amber," he said, seeming breathless.

"Hi, Bruno! Oh my god! I think I'm about to pass out," red-haired Amber exclaimed excitedly while fanning herself.

Then he remembered she didn't know him for being her music teacher. It had only been in the dream that they had been friends. His heart sank a slight inch deeper at the thought which he shook off right away, then he focused back onto signing autographs.

He expelled a chuckle once he started scribbling on the material. "What's a pretty girl doing at an airport on a Christmas Eve?" he interviewed while doing so. He remembered all too well when, in the dream, the young girl opened up to him about being bullied for singing. She must be experiencing that at the moment and he wished he could talk to her about it like in the dream.