~September 7, 2000~
Unless you count 'Stan', I've not released any new music this year. No albums, no singles, no music videos, no other collaborations. Only works-in-progress while I've been busy creating my next album. But nothing is nominated this year.
So there is no reason I need to be going to the Video Music Awards tonight. But I am.
I always have an open invitation to the show-- the perks of being a popular award-winning artist I guess. But when MTV contacted me, asking if I'd want to present- even without any music up for nomination- I said sure. I was already going to the after parties. Might as well go to the actual event, check out the new up and coming artists and see the old ones I love.
The dress I chose was a little more daring than any I've ever worn before. It's beautiful and colorful- but very revealing.
I'm really feeling myself in it. Beautiful and sexy. I left my hair down in its natural waves and did my makeup the way I've liked it lately. It's more than I would ever use to wear, but not enough to make me look caked-on. Just different.
I showed up late- though that was an accident. But a fashionably late entrance is fine.
I'm the last one to walk inside, everyone already seated and the doors shut. I can hear Rage Against The Machine performing 'Testify' on the other side. The show is well past started.
One of the VMA producers finds me immediately, all in a tizzy that I wasn't here on time especially since I'm a presenter. And during a commercial break they let me in, the producer personally leading me to my seat.
On the way, Gisele Bündchen stops me and gives me a hug- we've been seeing a lot of each other lately with her being a close friend of Angie's and going out clubbing with us. But the producer is trying to usher me to my seat before they go back on air, so we make promises to meet up at the after party and I'm on my way again.
We find my place and just before I can sit I hear my name yelled. Looking on the other side of my section, I see Proof waving at me with his usual friendly smile. Dre, sitting in front of him, looks to see what he's yelling about, and nods at me in greeting. And beside them is Marshall...who's facing forward, steadily ignoring me.
I expected that, but it still hurts.
I smile and wave halfheartedly to them before taking my seat, just as the show begins. I'm glad it does. I need something to focus my attention on.
They give out awards like they normally do. The talented Macy Gray wins Best New Artist and N'Sync wins Best Pop Video. Sisqo and Britney Spears perform. And when they announce the winner of Best Male Video, Eminem wins for 'The Real Slim Shady'. And I clap for him, as I do for every other artist who has won tonight. More so because I really am happy for him. I'll always be.
Jim Carrey takes the stage giving a humorous introduction to the next performer, Eminem. Instead of Marshall coming out on stage like expected, the screens turn on, showing him right outside of the Radio City Music Hall. Behind him is a small army of Slim Shady look-a-likes, dressed in jeans, white t-shirts and bleached hair. Just like in his video. Marshall, wearing a white wife-beater and grey sweatpants, leads them into the hall and through the audience rapping 'The Real Slim Shady'. And when he makes it to the stage he finishes and changes to 'The Way I Am'.
When it ends and Radio City erupts into applause, Marshall- out of breath- makes eye contact with me, acknowledging me for the first time tonight. I can't read him though. I try to smile at him but he doesn't react, walking off stage.
A VMA worker comes to my side at that moment, telling me it's my time. So I follow him backstage to get queued for presenting as the show is on a long commercial break while they reset the stage. I'm told to just hangout till I'm needed. I was suppose to introduce the next act- The Red Hot Chili Peppers- which I was psyched about. But apparently someone dropped out of his presenting spot for one of the awards later on under 'unknown' reasons and they're trying to rearrange everything on short notice. So when they'd ask if I'd be okay with switching, I said yes of course.
The room they put me in to wait is empty when I arrive. It's a pretty standard lounge area- couches, a table with food and water, TV's broadcasting the show live on screen. I take a seat to wait it out. Seconds later the door bursts open and the first thing I see is pink hair- spiked pink hair. Looking past that, I take in the woman walking in. Her gold halter top and matching high heels, ripped, low-rise jeans with gold hoops and such decorating it, the heavy eye shadow, the gold chain and hoop earrings. It's Pink.
She nods at me, crashing on the couch opposite me.
I smile back. I'm a big fan of hers. She has this gorgeous voice, an R&B sound, but she looks so punk-rock. Nothing defines her and I think thats so awesome. I want to say something, but I hold back, not wanting to say anything stupid and come off uncool or whatever. I'll just wait for her to talk to me.
I pause. Fuck that.
"Hey," I dive right in, getting her attention immediately as I continue, "Your album is sick, I literally can't stop listening to 'There You Go'. Nothing against Macy, but you really should have won Best New Artist."
Pink looks at me, eyebrows scrunched together for a moment as she considers my words. Probably trying to judge if I'm genuine or not, which I understand. Not a lot of people are. Then her face changes into a bright, friendly smile, "Wow, uhm, thank you. That's really cool to hear, coming from you. But I'm not too bummed about the award. At least that bitch Christina didn't win."
I laugh, now liking her a lot more. As we talk, I realize she is so sweet, funny and genuine which isn't something you'd expect with her edgy outward appearance. But looks are deceiving. I know that well.
A show producer comes in then, a clipboard in hand and looking frazzled, "Okay, sorry for the wait. It's a madhouse right now. Moby decided he didn't want to present because of the possibility of somebody he doesn't like winning." she rolls her eyes, "But we've figured it all out. We have you, Katherine, and you, Pink, presenting together after the Red Hot Chili Peppers finish performing."
I glance at the television, noticing the band is already on stage singing 'Californication' so we'll be up shortly. Pink and I are brought to the side of the stage where we will be entering. The band is already exiting, and we just have to wait till the show comes back from commercial to go on. The producer hands me the envelope holding the winner's name, letting us know to wait for our cue before turning to walk away.
"Wait," I stop her, and ask curiously, "what category are we announcing?"
Sure, we'll be reading off a teleprompter, but a little heads up would be nice.
"Best Rap Video." she says breifly before disappearing in the chaos of backstage .
"Aw, sweet. I love rap." Pink comments, and I nod wordlessly.
I look down at the envelope in my hands. The Best Rap Video category has Jay-Z, Eve and DMX up for the award. But Eminem is too, up for two songs actually: a feature on Dre's 'Forgot About Dre' and his own song, 'The Real Slim Shady'. He's doubling his already good chances of winning this award. 'The Real Slim Shady' has already won once tonight and could very well again. And with 'Forgot About Dre' being equally as good, the other nominees don't stand a chance.
Why does MTV always do this to me? I'm starting to wonder if Moby actually dropped out or if this was planned for ratings. This is just like last time. Deja- fucking- vu.
Once we get the signal, Pink and I walk onstage together as a voice overhead introduces us by name. Taking turns reading off the teleprompter, we present the category and the screens show clips of each nominee. When it's time we say in unison, "And the winner is...," but I let Pink take over the rest since it's her first time. It is the best part. I watch as she struggles with opening the envelope till she finally pulls out the card, and inevitably reads out, "Dr. Dre featuring Eminem- Forgot About Dre!"
The audience erupts in applause, my self included- my eyes darting around trying to find Marshall in the crowd, my stomach in knots.
Pink, either unsure what to do in this situation given it's her first presentation or not caring, goes immediately to the side leaving me to hand off the Moonman alone. Once Dre joins me on stage, he takes it from me and with his other arm pulls me in for a quick side hug as I happily congratulate him.
Behind Dre, Marshall walks up the steps. I'm not sure what to do. Do I shake his hand? Hug him like I did Dre? I want to but a public rejection doesn't sound too good right now. I don't have to worry though because Marshall only glances at me briefly, still unreadable, before going to stand next to Dre at the podium.
It's like we don't even know each other.
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A/N
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Planning on an update tomorrow, if not then the next day...🤞😂