Welcome to Protecting Love. 💗
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I hope you are enjoying the series.
Lots of love,
Holly xo
Betty
The wind is in my hair, and my ears sting with the noise of the crowd who sing the lyrics back to me and clap their hands, a sea of bodies bobbing up and down with a few on the shoulders of their friends and loved ones, and it's electric. I jump up and down when the drum picks up, and I see my VIP's cheering me on in the pit near the stage. A sellout crowd. Who'd have thought it? Not me. The loose white dress on my body sways everywhere with the movements, and the Aztec pom poms on my gladiator sandals bounce along with me. I can feel the beads of sweat trickling down my back, and my lungs burn, telling me to slow down, but I don't want to, it's too much fun.
The lyrics to my latest song pour from my mouth as the DJ, Blazin' works his way around the decks, hyping it up for the festival vibe. The sky is pitch black with no stars in sight, but the harsh white, pink and purple lights spraying from my stage soon sort it out. The people in the audience are all wearing necklaces and bracelets that light up in time with the beat, showing me some of their faces. It's my last song of the night, and I want to give it everything I have, not wanting to leave the stage. It's my safe place.
There are a set of stairs in the middle of the stage which leads to a smaller platform where I can mingle in with the first few rows of festival goers, who are now screaming my name at the top of their lungs when I walk up to them. Blazin' has the nightlife beat down to a T, as it plays out encouraging everyone to move their bodies. I tip my head back and move my body around in a circle, trying to remember the dance moves Esme, my choreographer, taught me the previous night. I hit several high notes, and the crowd goes wild.
"Betty! Betty! Ohmigod, Betty!" I hear someone scream and I look down to see two young women almost crying, their hands reaching up to me over the barriers.
I get on my knees and reach out to them so I can hold their hands, always incredibly grateful for the support. I can sense my security guards homing in on us and brace for them to tug me away from the women. "I love you," I tell them and they scream the same at me, now a pair of blubbering angels.
"Betty, away. You know you shouldn't do that," Finn shouts, pushing me back so he can stand in front of the women.
I don't get the problem with it. I want to thank my supporters. Is it too much to ask?
I climb back onto my feet and stare down at him, seeing his deep brown eyes match my own, the tips of his plump lips slanting up at the edges. The very mouth I've fantasised over kissing on many lonely nights in empty hotel rooms and tour buses supporting bigger music artists who are helping me in my journey into cracking the industry. Finn always by my side, while giving off an untouchable energy, his mind focused on his job in protecting me.
"California, you are amazing," I say into my microphone, when I hear the beat fading, knowing it's my queue to leave. "I love you all!"
"Wave and go off stage," a voice says in my ear piece.
I give the crowd one last wave, blow them a kiss and then dash towards the stage exit, handing my microphone to the stage runner and crash right into my assistant, Jade, who tells me it was my best performance yet. I don't have time for small talk, but don't want to appear rude, so I nod and listen to every word she says. Interviews. Signings. All of which I don't have time for when I need to jump on a plane and fly halfway across the world to make my brother's wedding.
I keep my head still when the sound guy approaches and removes my earpiece, dying to rub where it was heavy inside my ear. "I need to leave in twenty minutes. Is that enough time to talk to the press?"
"Yes, yes," Jade says, having a tendency to repeat words for effect. I follow her when she speeds over the grass pathway, turning to wave at me. "Come come."
There are a few bright flashes to my left, and I smile at the backstage photographers, feeling sorry for them for having to take a decent picture in this dim artificial light.
"Hey," I say, and they smile back.
The brown haired young guy gives me a thumbs up. "Great set, Betty. You rocked it out there."
It's hard for me to be so confident now the safety net of the stage is fading away, but I try my best to appear confident and carefree.
"Thanks, it was a real rush," I respond, picking up the pace when I see Jade miles ahead of me.
There's a tent where a bunch of press, photographers and bloggers gather already interviewing several music artists, actors and Youtubers. I see my team in the far corner, so I gingerly make my way towards the buzz. It's hard not to knock into people as we are all packed inside like sardines, the air conditioner doing nothing for the humid heat. I take a few deep breaths when my air supply tightens with anxiety, sourcing out Finn in the mayhem to find him standing near the exit door.
Our eyes meet, and I feel solace in his calming pools, allowing my fingers to release from the tight fists they form. I'm not sure if I'm sporting a 'help me' look, or if he's bored, but Finn pushes away from his leaning post on one of the pillars that hold up the tent and heads my way. Jade grabs my arm and stands me in front of a few journalists from GlitternationTV, causing me to plaster on my well-rehearsed smile for the camera they shove in my face.
I back up a few steps to be pushed forward by Jade who tells the women in front of me that they have five minutes. They gather their notes and count down until the camera comes to life, and then they are giggling and gushing over my dress and sandal ensemble, asking who I'm dating, my latest skincare regime and if I follow any fad diets.
The next fifteen minutes following go pretty much in the same order, questions about my personal life, music ambitions, celebrity crushes, and how I celebrated my twenty-first birthday. In a hotel room with my family on skype as they feasted on my favourite foods while I filled my face with SweedishFish and potato chips, trying to look at the photo album my mama insisted on showing me through the camera.
"A quiet night in with my team," I tell the guy from Tanter's music magazine, knowing it's not what he wants to hear, but it's the truth.
"Oh, I don't believe you. No late night parties with famous friends?" he responds, a tape recorder near my mouth.
I smile. "I wish. I don't have the time for getting drunk. My album is taking over my life."
"Rightly so," he chuckles, gazing over my shoulder and then looks away. I can sense without turning that Finn is looming and giving off his 'don't approach' aura. "The album is awesome. Any favourite tracks?"
I can talk all day about music. It's the reason I wanted a singing career in the first place, not for the celebrity lifestyle. "It's so hard to choose. But, Bubblegum and Heartbreak City are my go to when singing in the shower."
The journalist bursts into laughter, and I hear Finn's deep chuckle vibrating into my ear. I move back and catch his rare smile, hating that it disappears as soon as he notices my eyes on him.
"So you sing in the shower?"
I nod. "Guilty, don't you?"
"Yeah," he replies, his eyes intense on my face. "But, I won't sound half as good as you."
"End of the interview. Betty has a plane to catch," Finn announces with a low growl, coming to stand in front of me like a tower of pure muscle, tempting my gaze to lower on his solid peachy bottom.
Home.
The word trapped with so much pain and misery, memories that rip me to pieces, managing to worm their way back into my heart and hit me like a steam train. I can't run away forever, but, boy, I wish I could. One week, I tell myself. I only have to be there...with them for one week.
Finn
Flying commercial is a pain in the ass when you are as big as I am, tall enough to see the balding spots on the men's heads who think they are hard enough to knock me down and wide enough to take up more than half the space on a double bed. The chairs aren't long enough to accommodate me, and the kid behind us has kicked the shit out of the back of my seat since he woke up an hour ago. There is only so many times you can get up to stretch your legs on a night flight and it not disturb the sleeping passengers.
"I'm sorry Finn, but this is the only flight I could get at such short notice," Betty says, rubbing her eyes with her fingers having just woken up from a twelve-hour nap.
Glad one of us got some rest.
"Your brother shouldn't have changed the date of their wedding then," I bark, ready to physically remove the seat-kicking-kid from the plane myself.
Betty's cheeks bloom a light pink, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "Noah apologised on the phone. Apparently, the original date they booked was already taken by another couple."
"The wedding planner messed up then," I say, feeling my thigh muscle cramp up.
Betty shrugs. "I guess," she watches me struggling to stand and then says, "are you okay?"
"No," I rub my thigh, thanking God when the pilot announces we are circling Manchester airport and getting ready to land.
"Can I do anything to help?" Betty sweetly replies, securing her seatbelt when the sign signals for us all to do as it says.
Get me off the hellhole?
I don't say that however and just shake my head and get back into my seat, thinking the quicker I belt up, the faster we land. Betty reaches out and wraps her fingers through mine, squeezing hard enough for my joints to crack. I watch the colour drain from her expression and wonder if she's getting one of her anxiety attacks, brushing off the spike of something in my blood at her touch.
"I hate landing with turbulence," she squeaks, as the plane drops and rises in a hard motion.
I gaze down at our interlocked fingers and frown not wanting to pull away as she seems genuinely scared, but also thinking it isn't very professional of me. Betty whimpers when the plane jolts, turning her head to bury her face in my arm. It's useless to worry about my job now as she would be straddled across my lap if the seatbelt wasn't stopping her from getting any further.
"It's all right, Betty," I say, squeezing her fingers.
There's a ding, and then the pilot's voice announces that we will have to circle as they are experiencing some bad turbulence. No shit Sherlock. The cabin shakes and then the kids on the plane start crying for their parents. I keep my fingers securely around Betty's and try to forget about my aching legs. We'll be off before I know it. And then I can get home and showered and maybe take a twenty-hour nap before guarding Betty at Noah and Bailey's wedding.
"We're going to die," Betty whispers, pressing her nose flat into my forearm.
I roll my eyes and bite back a sarcastic reply. "No, we aren't."
"Can you not feel the plane falling?" she snaps, testing my tired patience.
"Mummy that lady said the plane is falling," the seat-kicking-kid squeals, followed by several cries from the other children on board.
I snap my gaze on Betty who is sheepishly pulling away from my shoulder to curl up against the plane window. "Oops," she says, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Is there a problem?" the poor hostess asks rushing up and towards the crying kids from her seat in the lobby.
"The lady in front said the plane is falling out of the sky."
"We are going to die."
"Are the wings falling off?"
Betty slides further down her chair when the hostess who is gripping on to the edge of our row of seats shoots us both evils. I give her a big grin, hoping it will get us off the hook, but my usual tactic goes unnoticed as she stumbles towards the chaos with narrowed eyes.
"Welcome home," Betty gives me a closed mouth smile.
I don't reply, tucking my hands under my armpits so she can't hold them, wishing I was anywhere but home.
...
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Lots of love,
Holly ❤️