Myself and the Apocalypse

Chapter 1 - FAME

"Tiany, they're waiting for you."

It was Michelle, my manager. I liked her, actually. She was kind and really smart, but she didn't understand a thing about me.

"Just a sec!" I shouted from in front of the mirror.

Michelle didn't gaze any further and left me alone in the dressing room. Yes, I was alone. I always needed time to be alone before all of the acts I had to put on stage.

I stared upon the reflection of myself in the mirror. I curled my blond hair with my finger, twisting it in the air and playing with it for a while.

They said my appearance was like a goddess. They said I was as beautiful as a perfect female could be. They were wrong.

"Green eyes, smooth, blond hair, freckles you might as well be a supermodel," Said Ellen when I was in her talk show.

I looked upon that mirror and I saw a desperate lady who had nothing. I had nothing!

"You're famous, beautiful, talented, and definitely rich. Everyone would literally die to be you." It was easy for Graham Norton to say things like that.

"You're nineteen years old and you got three Grammys already! Do you consider yourself to be as well-known as... like Billie Eilish or Harry Styles?" Stephen Colbert's question kinda bothered me, though I quite fond the man.

What is fame anyway? What is happiness or beauty or wealth? What is all of that when you have nothing at all?

"You're literally a perfect human being, Tiany." James Corden laughed after he said that. I did not.

I wasn't perfect and I'm still not. I'm the opposite of perfect.

"Jesus, Tiany!" Michelle burst into the dressing room again.

"Alright, alright!"

When I finally emerged, ten thousand crowds cried and cheered. They screamed my name. They shrieked and pushed each other to get closer to the stage. They took a thousand pictures every second, and they clapped, and some even fainted.

I pressed the microphone to my lips. "How you doin', Jakarta?"

They screamed even louder. This last city of my tour was probably the craziest and most crowded after Rio.

"It's awesome to finally be here, standing in front of you welcoming folks. You guys are amazing!"

But that wasn't bullshit. The only two things I loved about my past life were my fans and my sister. Without them, I would've already hanged myself.

I picked the accoustic guitar and started singing. It was rather pointless because their screams were louder, but it was still exciting.

And we sang. We sang until the whole city was rocked by those loud sound systems.

Backstage, I was so tired when my sister hugged me. They were still screaming for my name, spraying me some praises and compliments and 'I love you's.

The flight felt like ages until we finally landed back on the States. Two days later, my sister and I could finally jump to our bed in our apartment in Nashville.

Everything was boring. Every channel only aired breaking news and reports about this incoming pandemic or some shit.

"Seems pretty scary," said Ashley, my sister. "If this thing is real then you might have to cancel the next tour."

I slumped to the bed next to her. "Ash, this shit is of course exaggerated. Media is always like that."

"I guess you're right."