~NOTES~
This is based on Sex&Drugs&Rock&Roll so there is a lot of swearing. Enjoy :)
Gigi's POV
I'm touching up my make up backstage, ignoring how my hands are sweating.
My Dad walks over to me and the mascara slips from my hand.
"What do you want, Dad?" I ask.
"My daughter to lose some attitude would be nice." He says.
"I'm sorry, okay." I apologise, continuing my make up.
"You're fucking shaking." Dad says.
"I know." I say.
"Why?" Dad asks.
"Gee Dad, I dunno, maybe because I'm due on stage in ten fucking minutes and I'm not ready and I don't want to screw it all up." I rant.
"Oh." Dad says.
"I don't know why I thought of telling you this. You are the most unhelpful person I know." I say.
"I'm gonna go get Ava." Dad says, walking off.
"Yeah, go get your girlfriend because you can't talk with your own daughter." I spit.
A few minutes later, Ava walks in.
"Hey, how you feeling?" Ava asks.
"I, I don't feel, good." I stutter.
"Your Dad said I should talk to you." Ava says.
"Mm." I hum.
"You look really freaked out, Gigi." Ava says.
"I can't breathe. Can you breathe? I can't. Why can't I breathe?" I ramble.
"I can breathe." Ava nods.
"Oh, and now my hands are sweating. Ew." I cringe.
"You're shaking really bad, hun." Ava says, resting her hands on my trembling shoulders.
"I don't know what to do." I splutter, gasping for air.
"Gigi, you're having a panic attack." Ava says calmly.
"I-" I try to speak but no words come out.
"It's okay, I'm here." Ava says softly.
I put my knees up on the chair and rest my head on my knees while Ava rubs my back.
"I don't know what going on." I hiccup.
"Can you take deep breaths with me?" Ava asks.
"Maybe." I nod.
"In....out. In.....out. In........out. That's really good, Gigi." Ava says encouragingly.
"Thanks." I gasp.
"Let's try it again. In, 1,2,3, out. In, 1,2,3, out. In, 1,2,3,4, out. In, 1,2,3,4,5, out. In, 1,2,3,4,5,6, out." Ava instructs and I copy.
"It's better now." I whisper, still shaking.
"Have this." Ava says, opening a water bottle and handing it to me.
I take small sips.
"Gigi you're on in 5." A stage manager yells.
Ava and I give him the middle finger.
"Gigi, take your mark in 3." Someone yells.
"Ignore them for now." Ava tells me.
"Gigi Rock, that's Gigi Rock, we need to get you all mic-ed up." A sound guy yells.
"In a minute, can't you see she's fucking busy?" Ava yells and he walks away.
Dad walks in.
"Gigi, you're on in 4." He says.
"Piss off, Johnny." Ava says and he walks off.
I laugh.
"You feeling any better?" Ava asks me.
"A lot." I nod. "Thanks."
"It's no problem. I used to have panic attacks all the time when I was performing." Ava says.
"Thank you for, you know, being here for me." I say.
"It's my pleasure. Now go out and just fucking kill them all." Ava smiles.