Chapter 13: Ask T.

The Madrid arena smelled of hot cables and spilled beer, and I had a spot on the floor, eight rows back, on the aisle.

My pass said FLOOR.

I held it in my fist for the first six songs.

Eli sang with his eyes on the back wall.

He did not look for me once, because I had asked him not to.

Halfway through the set the lights dropped to amber, and two stools came out.

A big screen over the stage lit up with white letters: *ASK T.*

The crowd made the noise a crowd makes when it has been promised something.

Brianna walked on in a white jumpsuit and waved with both hands.

The blue notebook sat on her knee.

My notebook.

"Madrid, hello," she said. "I'm T."

Everyone screamed.

I stood very still while they did it.

Two microphones stood in the aisles for the fans.

The tour manager waved a line forward, one fan at a time, and I joined the end of it with my heart going hard.

A girl in front of me asked what T. had felt the first time she heard her words in a song.

Brianna put a hand on her chest and said she had cried for a week.

A man asked if T. would ever meet the fan club in person.

"This is meeting," Brianna said, and the arena sighed.

Then the girl in front of me stepped away from the microphone, and it was mine.

The tour manager looked down at me.

He looked at my pass, and then at the stage, and he did not say anything.

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