One.
All I could hear was the screaming of the fans. It wasn't too bad, though. It gave me a higher feeling. A feeling that no matter what I'm thinking, they don't know it. All I am up on stage is Taylor Hanson. Not Taylor, or Tay. Not a human, but a star. I guess that's good, sometimes. They can think whatever they want. I'm untouchable to them. I'm someone they dream about, write about, fantasize about. I'm not real. Purely fiction.
Two.
The show's over. I join my brother's off stage. They're laughing, but worn out. What am I? I'm not worn out. I feel like it wasn't even me up there singing. I wasn't even up there. The wave of energy that passed through my body momentarily didn't happen. Who am I?
Three.
Meeting the fans. Something everyone looks forward to. Even though they all can't get the chance to meet us, they still try. It's a victory to all those who make it. I wonder what they feel like if they don't make it. They're still happy about making it to the show, but they weren't close enough. They didn't get to touch our hands, or look into our eyes. Then again, I usually can't bring myself to look into anyone's eyes these days.
Four.
It's all over now. Both of my brothers are half asleep. Soon we'll come to our hotel rooms and pass out from all the excitement of the concert. We do this all the time. How can will still get a thrill from it? It's not a new feeling, but everytime we go out on stage we will look out into the crowd, and know they're all there for us. Everyone out there has a story, and somewhere in that story is us.
Five.
Trying to fall asleep. I always feel so alone at this time. The adventure's over, and there's no one up to talk to. It's not like it would matter, anyways. If anyone was up we would sit in silence. There's nothing to talk about to anyone else, but there's so much to say to myself. Still, sitting in silence with someone else would be different from sitting in silence alone.
Even though so many questions will run through my mind, I will never ask. They will never be answered. None of them. Why? Because there's no point. In the end, all I want to be is me. Sometimes I want the fame. Sometimes I want to be left alone. Other times, I just want to be.
