Kapitel 12: Chapter 12: The Concert (1)
<After Rehearsals - Ethan's POV>
"Okay, guys, this is it. Thirty minutes till the curtain opens." The concert organizer's voice echoed backstage, his eyes scanning Coldplay and finally landing on me. "Are you ready?"
Chris flashed a confident grin. "We're born ready," he said, then glanced at me. "Right, Ethan?"
The excitement surging through me made it impossible to contain the shout. "HELL YEAH!" I yelled, fists clenched, my voice booming. The others chuckled, joining in with their own "Oh Yeah!" as the energy ramped up another notch.
I was pulled aside by the stylist, who worked swiftly on my hair. He combed back my medium-length waves, letting their natural flow settle perfectly. As I looked in the mirror, my heart raced—this was really happening. Then came the wardrobe: a crisp white shirt and a black leather jacket that, though a bit too hot, made me feel like a rockstar already.
Chris appeared beside me, holding one of the guitars. "Here, kid. Take this. It's from me." His voice dropped into something more sincere as he placed the guitar in my hands. "Keep it, and take care of it, okay? I know you're going to be one hell of a performer. Maybe when you're getting your future awards, I'll at least get an honorable mention." He winked, keeping things light.
I laughed, the guitar feeling right in my hands. "Even if you didn't give me this, you'd still be the first band I played with. Of course, you'll get a mention when I get my first award," I said with a confidence that surprised even me.
Before Chris could respond, the organizer's voice cut through the backstage buzz. "Okay, guys, places. You're on in five."
Chris turned to me, his tone serious now. "So, you ready for this?"
I nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over me. "Of course I am. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."
"Good answer," he said, giving me a pat on the shoulder.
The countdown began.
"5..."
"4..."
"3..."
"2..."
*The curtain opens.*
The crowd roared as the lights dimmed, and I stepped forward, gripping the mic. I whispered the opening lines of Helena. The noise faded as the audience hushed, their attention locked on me.
*Somewhere in the audience...*
"Whoa, is that still Ethan?" Luke's voice broke through the silence.
"He looks different than usual," Phil remarked, eyes wide with awe. "Like a rockstar."
Claire, Mitchell, Cam, Jay, Gloria, and Manny just nodded, while Alex and Haley exchanged smitten glances, stunned by the transformation.
*Back on stage...*
The raw emotion behind the lyrics surged through me, and I could feel the connection with the audience deepening. Even those who weren't into this kind of music couldn't help but be drawn in.
"What's the worst that I could say? Things are better if I stay. So long, and goodnight... So long, and goodnight..."
The final chord of Helena hung in the air like a lingering breath before the soft intro of I Don't Love You broke the stillness.
"Well, when you go, don't ever think I'll make you try to stay. And maybe when you get back, I'll be off to find another way..."
As I sang, I let my body language reflect the heartbreak in the lyrics, acting as if every word carried personal weight. The camera zoomed in on my face, capturing the subtle emotion, and I could hear the audience buzzing. People were starting to speculate—was I singing this for someone? Did this song have a deeper meaning?
They didn't know it was all part of the act.
But I was that good.
"And after all this time that you still owe, you're still a good for nothing, I don't know..."
I sang, closing my eyes, adding the illusion that I was on the verge of breaking down, channeling every bit of emotion into the song.
Somewhere in the audience again...
"Is he trying to stop himself from crying?" Jay asked, his gruff voice tinged with concern, betraying his secret soft side.
"I don't think so, Jay. He might be acting," Manny replied, the future playwright analyzing every moment.
"Well, if he's acting, he's too convincing," Mitchell commented, while Cam's eyes lit up, probably already planning to ask me to join some future family play.
Back on stage...
"When you go, would you have the guts to say, 'I don't love you like I did yesterdaaaaaAAAAAAAY, Woah ohhh, I don't love you like I loved you yesterday!"
As the final chords hung in the air, I looked towards the audience and let out a triumphant scream.
"What's up, Hollywood Bowl?!"
The crowd roared back, their excitement surging through the venue like a wave. I took a breath, feeding off their energy.
"Wow, so much energy tonight, huh?" I joked, grinning. "Just make sure you save some of it for the rest of the performers. They've got something big planned for you!"
The audience chuckled, and I could feel the atmosphere becoming even more electric.
"My name is Ethan Wilson, by the way, and thanks for the crazy loud cheers earlier. That was unexpected—unless, of course, you were just cheering for these guys?" I gestured towards Coldplay, who waved to the crowd, igniting another wave of applause and whistles.
I chuckled. "Either way, I had a blast. But now... it's time for the last song I'll perform tonight. Chris didn't want to strain his voice right away, so he asked me to step in for this one." The crowd laughed, and even the band joined in, with Chris adding, "Yeah, that's true!"
I smiled, looking at the audience. "I'm sure you all know this song, but if you don't, I bet you won't forget it after this."
With that, we launched into the familiar melody of Viva La Vida.
As we started, the audience erupted in cheers.
"I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word. Now in the morning, I sleep alone, sweep the streets I used to own."
Chris's voice was mesmerizing, weaving through the air and captivating everyone.
"I used to roll the dice, feel the fear in my enemies' eyes, listen as the crowd would sing: 'Now the old king is dead, long live the king!' One minute I held the key, next the walls were closed on me. And I discovered that my castle stands upon pillars of salt, pillars of sand."
As I sang this part, Chris harmonized with me, and the crowd erupted into wild applause.
"I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing, Roman cavalry choirs are singing. Be my mirror, my sword, my shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason, I can't explain, once you're gone, there was never, never an honest word. And that was when I ruled the world."
The energy in the crowd didn't waver; they sang along with us, filling the Hollywood Bowl with their voices. It was an ecstatic feeling, one I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
As we finished the song, Chris pointed at me and announced, "Ethan Wilson, everybody!"
The crowd erupted in cheers—"Woooh!" I waved and took a bow, feeling a rush of gratitude. I made my way to the band members, high-fiving them and thanking them for the incredible experience. Then, I walked towards the backstage, still buzzing from the energy of the performance.
After making my way backstage, I was immediately greeted by the members of Paramore, who gave me high-fives all around.
"You were really good out there, man," was the general consensus, and before I knew it, Hayley Williams had me in a headlock, giving me a playful noogie.
"You were too much out there," she teased. "Now we've got to make sure everyone's still hyped for the rest of the show."
When she finally let go, I rubbed my head and smirked. "I'm sure you can handle that, Ms. Williams."
Her eyes narrowed playfully, and she headlocked me again. "What do you mean Ms. Williams? Call me Hayley or I won't let you go."
"Fi—ne," I croaked. "Let go of me, Hayley." She finally released me, laughing as I caught my breath.
"Call me Ms. Williams again, and I'll kick your ass," she added with a grin.
I chuckled. "I just didn't want to confuse you with my next-door neighbor. Same name and all."
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "If that's the case, then give me a nickname. We're friends now, and we're bound to run into each other a lot, especially after that performance."
I tapped my chin, pretending to think deeply. "Hmm, let me see... I've got it!"
"So, what's my nickname?" she asked, clearly interested.
"Hayley 2!" I said with a deadpan expression.
Her face scrunched up in mock disbelief before she put me in another headlock. "Why am I number 2?!"
"Because I met you after her," I laughed, the band members joining in.
After Coldplay's set, they came backstage to say their goodbyes. "We've got somewhere to be before the afterparty," Chris Martin explained as he shook my hand.
"Thanks again," I said, feeling genuinely honored.
The concert organizers then approached me, suggesting I stay backstage to finish watching the concert, as going back out to the crowd might cause a distraction.
I didn't think I was that famous yet, but I agreed. Better safe than sorry.
The rest of the performances passed in a blur, each band playing three songs before stepping offstage. I had already met everyone performing tonight, except one—Taylor Swift. I wondered where she was.
It was Paramore's turn, and I wished them luck as they hit the stage. I was vibing to their first song when a woman approached me.
"Hey, Ethan Wilson, right?" she asked, her tone polite but firm.
"Uh, yes? Hi. How can I help you?"
"Can you come with me for a bit?" she asked, gesturing for me to follow her. I hesitated for a split second but decided to go along. Worst-case scenario, I had my lightsaber hidden under my jacket.
She led me to a door, opening it and motioning for me to enter. I stepped inside, and there she was—the woman I'd been looking for all night.
"Oh, hi!" Taylor Swift greeted me with a wide smile. "I was really hoping you'd come by. Can you do me a favour?"
Starstruck, I found myself stuttering. "Uh, sure! I mean, it depends on the favour. What is it?"
She chuckled, clearly amused at the contrast between my shy demeanor now and the confident performance I'd just delivered.
"It's okay if you say no," she added sweetly.
"Oh, I'd probably say yes," I blurted out, my nerves making me more honest than usual.
She smiled, almost playfully. "It's not the kind of favour you usually ask a guy you've just met."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Wow. Now I'm curious."
"Would you sing one song with me on stage?" she asked, and I froze in place.
"Ooooh!"
"I mean," she quickly added, "you probably don't listen to my songs, since you're a guy and all. My style's pretty different from what you sang earlier."
'Aww, she's cute,' I thought to myself, remembering that she was still just starting out, too. "I know your songs," I said, trying not to sound too eager.
"Really?" Her face lit up with a genuine smile.
"Yeah! What song did you have in mind? And, is this okay?"
"Oh, yeah, it's totally fine," she reassured me. "How about Our Song? I think it would make a fun duet." Her wide eyes stared up at me, waiting for my answer.
"Okay, then!" I agreed, excitement bubbling up in my chest. "Should we rehearse it first?"
"No time for that," she admitted. "But don't worry—we'll nail it! You can take the chorus, since it's written from the guy's perspective anyway."
"You sure about this, Taylor?" asked another woman, who I assumed was her manager.
Taylor gave her a confident smile. "I'm sure. Don't worry."
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Ms. Swift, Paramore's on their last song. You should get ready."
Taylor turned back to me with an excited grin. "That's our cue. Let's go!" She grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the backstage.
Her manager sighed and put a hand on her forehead, muttering, "I just hope this goes well."
*to be continued*
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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Rangliste 
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Stein