“Frankie works for the Dodgers, so she’s always getting tickets to games and concerts at the stadium.”
“You’re a baseball fan?”
“I’m an LA fan.”
“Hometown loyalty, I can see that.”
“What about you?”
“Never had a hometown long enough to care about a team. I’ve always liked tennis though.”
“That . . . makes sense . . . Wait, who’s your favorite player?”
“Of all time? Serena, obviously. On the men’s side, Federer, before he retired.”
“Oh thank God.”
“What?”
“For a minute I was worried I was going to have to end our fengagement.”
“Worried I was gonna say Djokovic?”
“I mean, not that he isn’t a great tennis player . . .”
“But he’s a complete asshole?”
“Exactly.”
It’s not long before Julie takes the stage, the lights going down low. The crowd, maybe not as feral as they will be for Mari, are singing along – thanks to a couple of Julie’s songs that went viral – and having a great time.
It’s so cool to see her friend up on that massive stage, with fans who know the words to her songs, after years of dive bars and open mic nights and the struggle of trying to make it.
Then, just as Julie’s taking a little break, a security guard approaches them.
“If you two could come with me, please?”
“Is everything okay?” Xavier asks.
“Everything’s fine, this way, please,” he says again, gesturing behind him toward the stage, and it gets them moving.
The security guard leads them through one of the guardrails keeping the fans on the floor away from the stage and then around toward the back and up a set of metal stairs.
“What is happening?” Xavier murmurs in her ear.
“I think . . . I think we’re . . . I think we’re going backstage.”
“Holy shit.”
They’re led to the side stage where they can see Julie at her piano, spotlights on her as she talks to the crowd.
“There’s a very special guest here tonight. My incredible roommate here in LA who was with me through every up and down in my career. I’ve never told her this before, but that song you all love so much, the one that got me here, it was about her. She just got her PhD and she’s the smartest, most amazing person I know, so give it up forDrBianca Dimitriou!”
The crowd goes absolutely apeshit, high-pitched screams coming in waves, washing over Bianca as she’s guided out onto the stage by a man in a headset. The lights are blinding and Julie is glowing under one of the spotlights. Bianca looks back at Xavier, who sends her an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. His mouth forms words, but she has no idea what he’s saying over the sheer wall of noise hitting the stage.
There’s a high wooden stool sitting beneath a spotlight and Bianca sits on it precariously, hooking the heels of her shoes around the bar at the bottom to keep herself from tilting off the damn thing in front of tens of thousands of people.
The shrieking fans reach new heights as Julie’s fingers hit the keys of her piano in a soft tinkling melody, a song about coming to a new city and trying to find your place, and unexpected connections between people as different as the moon and the sun and finding friendship as an adult.
