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MidReal Story
Chapter OneAlexI can’t believe this is happening.
Scenario:Today is a good day to date Taylor Swift
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Chapter One
Alex
I can’t believe this is happening.
I mean, I can. I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like forever. But it’s still a shock to the system when it actually arrives.
I’m in a bar on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, just about to go on stage. As usual, there’s a small crowd of people here, if you can even call it that. The place is so packed that the only standing room is on either side of the bar, and anyone who doesn’t have a front row seat is standing on their tiptoes, craning their necks to get a good view of the stage.
I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair, then adjust my guitar strap one last time before I step up to the microphone.
“Good evening,” I say, my voice coming out in a croak. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”
The crowd cheers in response.
I clear my throat and give them a moment to die down. “My name’s Alex, and I’m going to be playing some original songs for you guys tonight.” I glance down at the setlist I’ve written on my cocktail napkin. “Um… this first one is called ‘Fallen Stars.’”
I start to play, and immediately get lost in the music. It’s a song I wrote about a girl who was always chasing her dreams, even though they never seemed to come true. It’s one of my favorites because it’s so personal, which is probably why it’s also one of my most popular songs.
After that, I play another new one called “Fire in My Eyes,” and then move on to one that has become a fan favorite over the past few months. By the time I finish playing it, the crowd is clapping and cheering loud enough to nearly drown me out.
“Thank you,” I say when the noise dies down. “This next one is called ‘Remember Me.’” I start to play a few chords on my guitar, but stop when I hear someone in the back of the room say my name.
“Alex? Alex Knight?”
I look around, trying to figure out where the voice is coming from. When I still don’t see anyone waving at me, I turn back to the crowd and say, “Uh… yeah. That’s me.”
I start to play again, but stop when I hear someone shouting my name. I look toward the back of the room again, and this time I see a man in his twenties standing with his arms raised over his head.
“Alex?” he says. “Is that really you?”
“Yes.” I’m starting to get annoyed now. This guy is interrupting my performance and distracting everyone in the crowd. “What do you want?”
“Um… nothing.” He looks around like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “Sorry. It’s just… I’m a big fan.”
I give him a nod and try to get everyone’s attention so that I can keep playing. But before I can say anything, he starts pushing his way through the crowd toward the front of the room.
“Dude.” One of the bouncers grabs him by the arm and tries to steer him back toward the bar. “You need to get back there.”
The guy shakes off his hand and keeps moving forward until he’s right in front of me.
I take a step back and give him a wary look. “Dude, what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry.” He looks up at me with wide eyes. “I just… I can’t believe this is happening.”
