Searching for Estelle.

I stood, giddy, for a moment just staring at the scrap of paper with Jyrki's number on it. If only I had read before bed last night, I could've...

Could've what? I was kidding myself. If I'd found Jyrki's number last night I'd have had a panic attack and sat up all night wondering if it was some kind of cruel joke. There was no way in hell I'd have used it. Even now I wasn't sure if I would.

Did I want to go to the gig? Yes, of course.

Did I want to meet the other members of the 69 Eyes? Again, yes.

Did I want to spend some more time with Jyrki and perhaps, as he had suggested, become his friend rather than just a fan? Absolutely.

Did I think that I was in any way worthy of their company or that I would be able to make it through the night without humiliating myself further? Not in a million years.

In the short time since I had met Jyrki I had already rambled myself silly, spilt coffee all over his friend and blushed every time he addressed me. I didn't like my chances.

I let out a deep sigh as I continued to walk past the bar. The show began at 7pm and it was now 2pm. I had 5 hours to psych myself up and somehow transform into a much more confidant, radiant and remarkable version of myself.

Oh no. Clothes. What the hell would I wear? I mean, I usually just wore jeans and a T-shirt but, that said, I'd never been personally invited by the lead singer of the band who had apparently taken pity on me.

He'd also mentioned having a pass left for me with the ticket and meeting the rest of the band, so I could only assume I would be going backstage. I didn't know if this would be before or after the concert and I didn't know if there was some sort of dress code I should be adhering to. I was out of my depth and I knew it.

With a shaking hand I reached into my handbag and pulled out my mobile phone. My thumb hovered over the 'Create new message' button but I could bring myself to lower it. I closed my eyes for a moment, ashamed of my insecurities.

There was no way in hell I would be going tonight. I just couldn't do it.

I turned and began walking back the way I'd come, towards my hotel. A quiet afternoon followed by room service and a bath was the only social life I would see in Finland. Without Dani dragging me out of the room by whatever limb she could grab a hold of I was a complete and utter, useless hermit.

I wondered what she was doing at the moment. It would be around 1 there, no massive time difference. She was probably at a romantic lunch with Jean-Claude or shopping at the most amazing boutiques in the world.

She was an avid shopper and adored anything feminine and sophisticated. She constantly tried to persuade me to switch my jeans for dresses and my Converse for Jimmy Choos and I constantly refused.

It's not that I didn't like her style of dress; she always looked amazing whether she was dressed up or down, but I preferred to dress as inconspicuously as I could. As long as I could linger in the background and not be noticed I was happy.

As I continued down the street, remembering mine and Dani's various shopping trips and disagreements over purchases, I smiled and realised that I was now wandering back down the street I'd shopped in earlier. A store window caught my eye and I paused, noticing a dress.

It was emerald green but had a black strip around the waist, across the top and at the bottom. The straps were thick and black as well. It contrasted beautifully and was made out of a light cotton sateen material. It was dressy without being formal and I found myself falling just a little bit in love with it.

It was exactly the sort of thing Dani would pressure me to try on.

Shame I wouldn't have anywhere to wear it, I thought, turning to walk away.

What about the concert? A cheeky voice reminded me in my head.

I bit my lip. I couldn't. Especially not on my own. I was too inept and would only humiliate myself. I was sick to death of this paralysing shyness and anxiety, but I could see no way around it.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, Estelle,” I swore at myself.

An elderly woman who was walking past made a 'tut' noise and glared at me. I blushed furiously, my hand flying to cover my mouth as I realised I had voiced my frustration aloud.

I smiled a little, however, realising that I wanted to go. I wanted to buy this dress and go to the concert and get to know Jyrki and his friends.

With a deep breath I walked into the store.

The shop assistant smiled warmly and helped me find the correct size. I tried it on and it fell just above my knees. It was modest, I didn't feel exposed and I felt a surge of confidence.

I also felt short.

With the help of the ever-friendly assistant I selected a pair of heeled, black booties. I could walk in heels, having practised extensively before my year 12 formal and revised for my University graduation in order to ease some of the fear that I would faceplant on the way to collect my certificate- something I was already nervous enough about.

I paid for my outfit and left the store, feeling much more excited about this evening than before. I reached for my phone again- with a steadier hand this time- and wrote out a text to Jyrki with the name of my hotel, my room number and a quick note.

I'd love to come tonight- thank you for the invite. You were right, I really could use a friend.
Estelle.

I took a deep breath and hit 'send' before I could talk myself out of it. I was committed.

As I began to near my hotel I felt my phone buzz and my heart skipped a beat.

'1 New Message from Jyrki' flashed on the screen.

Good girl, I was worried I wouldn't hear from you. Come to the bar around 5:30 so we can catch up beforehand. Ticket & pass will be at your hotel soon and a cab at 5:15. Hope you're ready to rock and come out of that shell. J69.

I was touched that someone I'd only known for a day (and probably seemed like a strange little fan to) could be so kind and seem genuinely interested in getting to know me. I doubted that he had any interest other than friendship and for that I was grateful.

The disbelief of Jyrki's interest in my kept me occupied for the rest of the walk and it wasn't until I stumbled over a change in the texture of the pavement that I realised I was at my hotel. With a smile I walked inside and headed to the reception desk.

“Hi, checking in?” the receptionist, a young man who didn't look a day over 18, asked in English, looking as though he'd rather be a million miles away.

“Oh, no. I'm already staying here. Um, a friend is dropping something off for me here. It won't be for awhile, I guess but..” I trailed off, really having no idea where I was going with this.

“Would you like us to call your room when it arrives?” he asked impatiently.

“Yes, that'd be great,” I answered with a shy smile, thankful that he appeared to have some psychic ability among all that teen attitude. “My name's Estelle Jacobs and I'm in room 27.”

He looked up from where he'd been about to take my name down. “That's already arrived, Ms. Jacobs.”

“Oh?” surprise was apparent in my voice. I guess Jyrki really did have connections- it hadn't taken him any more than 10 minutes to get the ticket to my hotel.

“Yes, here you go.” He handed me an envelope and watched as I opened it. I pulled out a ticket and a backstage pass and I couldn't help but smile.

“Lucky.”

I looked up at the man, startled by his speaking again after appearing so bored. “Sorry?”

“That gig's been sold out for weeks. And you're going backstage. How much did that cost you?”

“Just my coffee and a little bit of dignity, I suppose,” I replied, with a smile before heading up to my room to get ready, leaving a confused young boy in my wake.