Chronological Chaos

Emit was wholeheartedly certain that she had drowned and that she was dead. Nevertheless, she accepted the possibility without giving it much thought.

She was perfectly content with pacing around the wholly filled parking lot that she ended up in. With her hands behind he back, she whistled a tune she had heard a few days prior on the radio; her shrill noise echoing throughout the night. There were multifarious types of cars in the parking lot and among them, she spotted her carroty Camaro. Emit walked over to it, peering inside the car through the driver's window while craning her head to get a better look at her belongings scattered throughout the interior. She found that the inside of her car was just like she left it; not a single thing was out of place. Half-finished sketches were strewn about the stack of paper that sat on the passenger seat, an illustration of a bottle floating in the sea atop the pile. It was what kept her company when no one else was there to fill the spot.

Peculiarly, the door opened when she pulled the handle despite the absence of keys on Emit’s part, which she found already plugged into the ignition. She snatched them up with a confounded expression and jammed them into her pocket. She distinctly remembered leaving her keys with her trustworthy neighbor just in case something was to happen to her house or her car. The fact that they appeared in her car now definitely indicated that this entire situation seemed rather off. Yet, Emit did not think much of it; she did not want to think much of anything at the moment. It was the peace she felt when she was creating art that enveloped her now, and she was addicted to the way it made her feel. She could not focus on anything for too long which eradicated the need to worry. Besides, worrying was for the rabbles.

The sound of a car door slamming shut echoed throughout the lot and it took Emit a minute to realize that it was her who initiated the noise. She looked around for a moment, trying to conjure up a purpose for this parking lot to exist. There was a building in the distance, Emit noticed, that emitted a pair of spotlights from its roof. They waved back and forth in the sky as if searching for something in the navy-blackness, something worth shining their light on. Still, it drew Emit’s sense of adventure to the surface and prompted her long and leans legs to guide her over to the entrance. From her vantage point, the building seemed to a small venue that was rather short in width. If something spectacular was supposed to be going on in the building, Emit could not see how it would be something bigger than a small, high school talent show.

Her curiosity had no patience and Emit soon found herself in front of the purple neon lights that outlined the grey building. Her eyes scanned the flat surface of the wall as if doing so would turn up some sort of memory-provoking piece. Emit did not recognize any aspect of the building though, but the place still welcomed her with a warm smile. The electronic sign that read “Alkaline Area” seemed to be encouraging her to push through its doors even though Emit doubted that the building would actually be able to constitute a legitimately sized arena. She turned to her gaze to her left where the purple door stood idle and reached for the black handle in order to let herself in. But before her hand could come in contact with the handle, it brusquely opened for her.

“Emit, we’ve been looking all over for you! We’re running behind schedule, let’s go!” A man emerged from behind the door with a sickly red shade of color on his face. He was far shorter than the model-height Emit and his chunky fingers were tense around the door handle. Frantically shaking his head as he spoke, his demeanor was one of complete astonishment as to Emit’s whereabouts. However, he gave no opportunity for response as he swiftly snatched Emits wrist and pulled her through the doors of Alkaline Arena.

There was no protest on Emit’s part as she stumbled behind the man with her back slightly bent as not to let her wrist slip out of his grasp. No harm could possibly come to her now that she was engulfed in a blanket of serenity.

The small, robust man pulled Emit through multiple rooms lined with richly colored pictures that contrasted the white pastiness of the walls. There were busy-looking people traveling every which way and they all seemed to look at Emit with increasingly urgent eyes. They spoke briskly into their microphone headsets as Emit and her escort swept by. Into a narrow hallway they eventually turned and they continued to walk hurriedly, past multiple doors until they stopped sharply at a seemingly random one on the right. At eye level was a sign that displayed “EMIT” in gold capital letters, written in an expensive looking and elaborate font. There were a few gold stars lining the ivory strip of royal paper that her name was printed on, and Emit decided that this was her own personal room in the building. Maybe it was here that her body can relax as much as her mind has.

The stout man shoved the door open but did not make a move to go in any further. “Hurry up and get dressed, it’s almost time,” he said as he looked at Emit with pleading, dark brown eyes. "We wouldn't want to keep the people waiting."

“Get dressed for what? Who’s waiting for me?” If Emit had not been confused before, she was definitely befuddled now. Her eyebrow lifted when she voiced her question and she tilted her head to the side in wonder.

“For your show of course! You’re due on stage in twenty minutes and you have to get dressed and warm up your vocal chords. Go, go, go!” He made a forceful gesture with his hands as if to hypothetically push Emit deeper into the room. That was all he said before he turned on his heel and went back the way they had come.

She stood there in the central of the room, which she now understood was a dressing room, for a moment. The soft lavender walls went well with the ivory vases and picture frames that decorated the room. It also matched the ivory wooden chest that stood at the far left of the room. Emit walked over to it and pulled the intricate knobs to reveal a flash of sequins that could blind just about anyone. A sparkling purple unitard hung on a hanger that was swinging slightly and Emit eagerly yanked it from its place in the chest. She discarded the clothes she wore on the plane, throwing them carelessly around the room as if she were in a wild music video. They paled in comparison to her new purple outfit which she delicately slipped on and zipped up.

After adjusting the flared collar, she walked over to the mirror across the room to look over her new outfit. Unlike before, her physique was much more lean, her legs and torso longer. That would probably explain her quick pace on the way over to this very building, something she could not have done as speedily in her former body. The stretchy, purple fabric clung to her in all the right places and Emit found it difficult to look away. She had wanted to be a model in her youth, but she condemned herself of not having a perfect figure before anyone else could, and instead turned to art as her main hobby.

Emit decided that she should continue getting ready and opted to sit down in the chair before the mirror to apply her makeup. There was an array of cosmetics scattered on the vast space the mirror’s counter had to offer, all of it neatly organized into what part of Emit’s face they were to paint. She was glad to notice that her pastel blonde hair was back in accompaniment of her cloudy grey eyes. A bright, white smile appeared on Emit’s as she took in her new appearance. This is how she had always drawn herself when she was instructed to do a self-portrait; never would she have drawn her dull, brown hair and dirty eyes. The teachers would always say that her drawing did not resemble the Emit that they saw, but it was always the Emit that was hidden away that she depicted on paper. It was finally pleasant to receive what she wanted for once.

Just as she was studying the color patterns of her own irises, the door swung open and in rushed at least five women in plain black outfits and aprons tied around their waists. They immediately began to grab things off the vanity counter, plugging things into the electrical outlets, and looking over Emit to note what makeup and hairstyle would match with her outfit. Not too much time later, two women were in Emit's face, applying purple eyeliner and eye shadow, a rosy blush, and pale pink lipstick. Another two were in Emit's hair, pulling whichever way to get the right shape to overcome Emit's lusciously straight hair. They used curling and flat irons to burn Emit’s hair into a style, but none of that mattered to Emit at the moment. She just wanted to look perfect. The last of the women placed Emit’s high-heeled, thigh high boots next to a chair by the main door of the room.

Soon, all her makeup was applied and Emit looked herself over in the reflecting piece of glass. Her eyebrows were covered in lilac glitter, her eyes outline with violet liner, her lips an ashen amethyst. She would have never thought that this combination would work, but as she studied the entire look, she concluded that she never wanted to wipe it off.

Her shoes were pushed into her hands before she could fully inspect her adorned face, and she began putting them on automatically. She hadn’t been on stage too many times, but this seemed routine to her, almost like she had done it every day of her life. As soon as she finished zipping up her boots, yet another thing was shoved into her hands, this time a short sleeved jacket with enormous shoulder pads. She slipped on the silver embellished piece of outwear and was ushered out by the women to the main part of the backstage area.

There, a microphone headset was attached to her ear, a small black box clipped onto the back strap of her bra under her unitard. It seemed like everyone was in a mad rush save for Emit who was caught in the middle of the chaos, but did not mind.

Next thing Emit knew, she was guided towards the side stage and counting down until when she would walk out onto the sparkling platform and face the music. At no point did she feel nervous; it was like she had done this many times before. The stage was her sanctuary and this was the moment she felt impervious to the negatives of the world.

She was thoroughly surprised when she walked onstage though; there were many more people than she expected in what she thought was a tiny venue. Instead, there had to be at least ten-thousand fans in the audience and they all blended into a sea of black. Nonetheless, their screams were loud and it brought a dazzling smile to Emit’s face to see so many people that supported her. She was the center of their attention and it was one of the greatest forms of appreciation Emit could imagine.

Emit made her way over to the silver sequined, grand piano and adjusted the chair so that it was centered and she had full access to all the keys. Then, she began the piano introduction that she never remembered learning, but knew perfectly well.

It doesn’t matter that you’re the star of the scene
They only envy your gleam
You are your own queen, yeah
Don’t let them stop you from walking your way
They’ve got a lot to say
But you’ll be okay, love

Gehst du immer geradeaus
(German: [You] go straight ahead)

Emit sang slowly into the microphone; the words flowing out like a calm river into the ocean. It was clear that this song was dear to Emit’s heart by the way she sang the verses. The emotions attached to the lyrics were personal, and Emit remembered that they were her own lyrics. Though she did not remember writing them, she knew exactly what they were about.

The crowd sang along with Emit, even the loud and off-key singers could be heard throughout the venue, but Emit did not mind at all. She looked towards the first row of the crowd as those were the only faces she could see clearly, and saw that they too were singing the lyrics. They sung with their eyes closed and very dramatic facial expressions; their eyebrows arching and hands held up high. They sung like this song, and Emit, had changed their life.

At first, it seemed odd to Emit that people believed in her music so strongly until she thought back to the time that she was in their same position. She remembered when she was standing in the front row of her favorite band’s concert, singing different lyrics with the same intensity that people were singing hers. That band had saved her life and she was honored that she could do the same for others. Before she knew it, there were a few tears streaming down her face. All the same, she continued to sing.

“I am so privileged to have fans like you and it really means a lot to me when I see that you get so into the music. In all my years, I never would have thought that I would be here, playing my music before so many people. And that’s what makes me cry. Thank you so much. I love you all,” Emit spoke to her fans when she finished the first song of the set list. The multitude of people cheered as she spoke and waved their hands in the air while shouting their sentiments. This really had to be the best part of being a musician.

When Emit felt that she had conveyed her gratitude as accurately as she could, she continued the show with a pop dance number. There was so much energy floating around the building that it gave Emit an adrenalin rush that only pushed her to dance full out. Not once did she feel so out of breath that she needed a break, and not once did she feel like she wanted this show to end.

All too soon, Emit found herself in the back in the dressing room, changing into a pair of bright red jeans and a glittering silver blazer with matching silver pumps. It took her a good ten minutes to wipe of the purple makeup and glitter that bejeweled her face, but still, Emit could not get rid of all the sparkle on her eyebrows. Deciding not to fret over it, Emit applied a light coat of natural looking makeup with a touch of bright red lipstick to match her pants. After she deemed herself appropriate, she left the dressing room and made her way over to a similar looking room where she would meet those who had backstage passes. After telling one of the backstage personnel that she was ready to meet the fans, Emit took a seat on the comfy-looking couch toward the back of the room.

It took exactly twenty-three seconds for the fans to poor into the room and Emit immediately stood from her seat to give a general greeting and convey her thanks. There had to be at least thirty of them, but it did bother Emit; she would stand for hours just sign and take pictures with all the people who came out to her concert that night. Emit started on one side of the room, signing pictures of herself and the plastic cases that held her album. She asked everyone if they had a good time and managed to have a brief dialogue with each individual while she made her way to the other side of the room.

When Emit finished using her silver Sharpie to sign her autograph on whatever the fans gave her, she went over to stand on the right side of the room where the wall was a nice and light grey color. She took pictures with each fan and kept an unpretentious smile in each photo, never minding the bright flash that followed every click of the camera. She couldn’t help but give everyone a hug after every picture and it was apparent that both Emit and her fans were thoroughly enjoying the experience.

“Michelle,” Emit called a backstage crew member whom she had befriended. “Can you order ten boxes of pizza and five bottles of soda? We’re going to have a party.” Though Emit looked calm and collected on the outside, she was very excited to have a nice gathering with her fans. It was as if her fans were her friends and she had been invited to one of their parties unlike in her years and an adolescent. For this, she was grateful and she felt the need to give back to those that made her exultant.

Michelle simply nodded her head and turned out of the room to place an order at whatever pizzeria was closest to the venue.

Soon enough, Emit and her fans were seated in a circle on the floor, eating pizza –which was very delicious-, drinking soda, and chatting like they had all been friends for a long time prior to meeting here. At that moment, when they were all laughing and having a good time, Emit finally felt that the void in her had been filled. It didn’t matter if she ever got to Germany now, it didn’t matter that she didn’t know exactly where she was. All that matter was that she finally got to live out her dreams – that she was home.

But in the back of her mind, Emit could only question how long this high would last. It never did last very long.