Underneath the ruins

An internationally famous singer with not so internationally famous secrets, an average doorman rescued from the dodgy part of Mexico, an enormous bodyguard with even more enormous agression-maintenance problems and two women from two different point of the world, sharing a common enemy. But what do they all have to do with each other? Winner of The Backstage Story competition.


1. Waldorf Astoria

          Strangers stumble on my feet, bodies glittering with sweat press against my equally sweaty corpse, and I even get some elbows or shoulders - I really can't tell - in my stomach as a result of trying not to get swallowed by the crowd.

          God, you really have to fight for these autographs.

          I slip under someone's arms and struggle my way a bit further in the direction of the gate. Almost there, only ten metres left - that equals to another half an hour at the minimum. I comb through my hair with five fingers and really wish I didn't have such long ringlets. It sticks grossly to my forehead as a raise my head to have a look at the imposing hotel - for about the hundredth time. There is not much to see besides the royal-looking Waldorf Astoria in which the meet and greet takes place, mainly because the midday sun blinds you if you intend to look anywhere else.

          Two of the huge security guards let another four people in and I fight, stumble, struggle and crawl at the same time in order to get to the gate. Unfortunately, everyone else seems to follow the same strategy. The crowd almost flows and the next minute I find myself pressed to the gate, with a bald monstrum at each side. Hallelujah.

          I have been waiting, sweating and starving for hours now, only to get the autograph of some bad-guy singer. Yeah, humans are sure strange creatures. However, I have to add that this singer, a certain Jake Ryder, also happens to be a superstar, utterly handsome and an idol wrapped in the aura of mystery. Not that I have secret dreams of him, he is at least twice my age. But hey, who says you can't love the music of someone who could be your father? I look around and feel an absent-minded grin taking over my face. Grandfather, even. 

          The rasping voice of the towering men's headset is audible so much that I can easily take out the words 'Let the next four in!', and before I have time to think or even to blink, I'm pushed through the gate in the company of three other women. They are older than me, around the end of their twenties or more like the beginning of their thirties and they seem to know each other very well. I can tell by the way they are squeezing each other's chubby arms, squeling like pigs. If I wasn't in the Waldorf Astoria, I would have probably pulled a face.

          But I am, so instead of giving a second thought to the trio, I look around as we step into the hotel. Red cordons show our way, with wardrobe-sized men in classy black suits in every ten metres, probably just for order's sake. We turn at the end of the entrance and I find myself in the most lavish hallway I have ever been.

          The huge space is furnished with luxurious mahagony tables with bouquets of lily and orchids on it; with classy creme-coloured sofas around an ancient-looking fireplace and a big reception desk with candles that smell like vanilla. There is a man in gorgeous uniform behind the desk, smiling at us kindly. However, my gaze is not fixed at the perfect white smile, but at something else.

          To our right, a door swings open, and to everyone's amazement Jake Ryder hurries out of a room, followed by another security man. My companions scream in surprise, and I want to do the same, but by the time I open my mouth, there is another reason I should be screaming. The ground starts shaking so violently that I crash to the floor, pain being sent up in my arms as I hit the marble. I see the bodyguard in his tight suit jumping over the singer, protecting him with his body - for what he is probably paid for - from any danger.

          I watch as the crystal chandelier crashes to the floor next to my head, breaking into million pieces, and before I even get the chance to have my life flashed before my eyes, invisible arms pull me into unknown darkness. 

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