No Me Sueltes

Fan Enamorada

"Leah, chill out." Nati says, lightly elbowing me.

"I'm fine," I insist. We're maybe minutes until the concert starts and we're just a handful of rows back from the stage.

It's not until Natalia rests her hand on my arm that I realize that I am quite literally vibrating. From excitement, anxiety, maybe a little bit of anger mixed in, but ever since I left the house this afternoon I haven't found a way to be completely still. It was my fingers drumming for the half hour drive to the San Bernardino Depot for the train, my foot tapping throughout the hour-plus train ride to Los Angeles Union Station, the slight head bobs to music only I could hear during the 20 minute bus ride, and running my thumb over the edge of the strap of my bag while walking and standing in the stop-again-start-again line that lead me here, to my seat that's just a handful of rows from the stage where my leg's bouncing rhythmically as I impatiently wait for the show to begin.

"See? You were actually- oh! I think it's about to start!"

The huge screen on the stage in front of us starts a video and the lights start flashing on and off at random intervals. The entire stadium fills with deafening screams from the various CNCOwners surrounding us. The screams increase in volume whenever the smoke machines on the stage go off, making me wish I'd brought ear plugs, although I'd be lying if I said that I didn't think the effects were cool. There's also a drummer in one corner of the stage, playing along to the background music as all five boys finally walked out onto the stage.

Feeling unable to suppress my excitement, I join in with the screaming, and after an eye roll or two, Natalia does as well. I excitedly tap her arm quickly as the boys start singing Hey DJ.

"Ohhh my god look at them up there Nati! Look at Joel!" I point at my best friend, who is wearing his signature bandana in black, matching his outfit.

"I know!" She lets out a laugh. "That's Joel, little Joel."

"Little Joey, all grown up," I add with a light elbow. My mouth gapes in amazement as the five boys continue their choreography. "That's my best friend up there, wow."

It's kind of crazy, this has been his dream for so long, to be up on a stage, singing in front of a crowd like this. It was Joel's dream and it became his family's dream for him, including his late Apa, who would be beyond proud of him, up there on that huge stage with the blinding lights and the deafening cheers of a full audience to go with it.

Well, maybe except for the grinding. Apa does not need to know about that.

Anyways, the few times I've gone to see CNCO perform, I always feel similarly to how I'm feeling now, amazement mixed with disbelief as I get caught up in excitement and awe at how my best friend is achieving his dream. It feels unbelievable, even now, and ping pongs back and forth between giving me hope that I'll be singing on my own metaphorical stage someday and feeling like I'll be forever stuck in the nosebleeds, watching everyone else get their chance at fulfilling their biggest hopes.

"Hey, Lay," Nati bumps her shoulder up against mine. "Who's your best friend in the whole wide world, even more than Chicken Nugget?"

"Wha?" The mention of my favorite childhood stuffed animal yanks me out of my trance. "Oh! Um, you are."

She stares at me with disbelief written across her face. "You're supposed to say that it's Joel, pendeja. It's never been a secret that me and Sebas were always second to him, and if it was a secret, it was a horribly kept one. Pay attention, maybe they'll sing the Prince Royce song soon."

"Ooh, I hope so, that's one of my favorites," I respond, turning back towards the concert.

A girl directly to our left turns around to face me and Natalia. Her right hand is planted on her hip and her lips are slightly pursed.