STORY 18: FUCKING MY IDOL ON STAGE (End)

Chapter 1 The lights were blinding, but all I could see was him. My idol. The man whose songs I had screamed along to in my bedroom, whose posters covered half my walls, whose face made my stomach twist every time it came on TV. And now… I was standing right beside him on stage. The crowd was roaring, thousands of people, with their phones up, flashes going off like fireworks. He had called me up during the fan interaction segment — and when his hand wrapped around mine, warm and firm, my whole body trembled. “Tell them your name,” he said, his voice sliding through the mic, deep and playful. “E-Elena,” I stammered, my voice shaky but picked up loud and clear by the speakers. “Elena,” he repeated, smiling at me, his tongue wetting his bottom lip. “Pretty name, isn’t it?” He turned to the audience, making them scream louder. I could barely breathe, ge was so close, his cologne mixing with the heat of the stage lights, my chest was pounding like it might crack my ribs. Then he leaned in,