[Edward POV]
The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers as I stepped onto the stage. Dressed in a leather jacket with my hair slicked back and wearing ripped jeans, I could see the girls swooning at the sight of me.
"Eddy! You're so handsome!" one girl shouted.
"Make me your girlfriend!" another voice chimed in. A gruff masculine shout followed: "Let me ride your—" but his words were abruptly cut off as his friends silenced him.
Ignoring the interruption, I walked to the center of the stage and took a seat on a tall stool. Next to me stood a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, adorned with twinkling lights and surrounded by a sea of presents. The instrumental version of Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas" played softly in the background, barely audible over the cheers of my fans.
The gifts were wrapped in vibrant green and red paper, tied with shiny ribbons. Among them were gift bags, teddy bears, and even practical items like coffee makers and cozy blankets. Some fans had been thoughtful, remembering that my house had been lost.
Behind me, my band members stood ready, and the atmosphere was intimate, with only 300 people filling the hall. Colorful lights flickered above the stage, illuminating a backdrop adorned with posters and memorabilia.
In the front row, familiar faces smiled back at me: Haley, Tara, Jenna, Enid, Billie, Finneas, Alex, Elsa and even Mitch and Cam with little Lily. It felt like everyone I knew was there, though a few had chosen to hide backstage—Selena, Taylor, Vanessa, and even Maggie– who didn't really need to hide.
Before 2010, Las Vegas had been diligently establishing itself as a party hub, with luxurious clubs and celebrity endorsements attracting large crowds. Icons like Eminem, Snoop Dogg, Kanye West, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and the Kardashians all contributed to the city's allure. We received some invitations and decided to check it out.
"Hello Treasures! Mer—" Before I could finish my greeting, the crowd erupted in excitement, drowning out my voice with cheers. I chuckled, my happiness evident as I teased, "At least let me finish my sentence first! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. I'm so glad to meet all of you here today."
"Oh Captain, my Captain!" a girl shouted, sparking a lively chant. Some of them even stood up on their chairs as they chanted. It went on for about 5 minutes before the emcee stopped them.
"We appreciate your enthusiasm, but we only have the venue until 4, so please take your seats. Today, we have a special treat: Edward will perform a medley of his most famous songs. Everyone, give a warm round of applause for Edward!"
As the crowd erupted in cheers, I grabbed my guitar and began to play. I started with "7 Years," followed by "Grenade," and continued through snippets of my songs, wrapping up with my latest hit, "Daylight."
The emcee for the event, a friendly woman in her 40s named Karen, sat near the stage with a microphone in hand. She ensured the event flowed smoothly, positioning herself just far enough away to avoid blocking anyone's view. "Please give another round of applause for Edward!" she announced.
Suddenly, a gruff voice rose from the crowd, filled with frustration and mockery. "Oh, I can't take this anymore! This primitive, animalistic caterwauling—enough with this foolishness! Gimme a ride!"
With eyes that barely blinked and a face full of ticks, the man stared at me from afar.
"What?" I asked, my expression blank. The other fans were furious at his words, hurling objects in his direction. But before I knew it, he dashed from his seat and rushed toward me.
'Wait, is he trying to attack me?' I thought as I instinctively stepped back.
"Oh no, you don't!" Mickey exclaimed.
Mickey, my personal bodyguard, along with two others, quickly moved to protect me. They managed to halt the man for a brief moment, but then Mickey was flung aside like a ragdoll.
The other two bodyguards struggled to restrain the man, grappling with a surprisingly strong individual despite their height advantage. His face seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.
Looking directly at me, he said, "I'm (gibberish). I'm stranded here. Can you give me a ride back to my place?"
"Huh? What did you say your name is?" I asked, genuinely confused. Holding my microphone, I knew everyone could hear our exchange. He repeated himself, but his words came out as hisses, tongue clicks, and sounds that resembled a cat choking, accompanied by exaggerated facial expressions as if he were having a brain aneurysm.
"What?" My expression twisted in confusion. "NO! You're joking with me!" He smiled slightly, as if he thought I was just playing around. "Humans aren't at the technological level of building quantum channels yet. STOP JOKING AROUND!" He yelled, his anger palpable and causing some fans to look fearful.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I shot him a look that made him pause and fall silent for a moment.
Meanwhile, my bodyguard patted him down and discovered an ID. The emcee helped Mickey to his feet, while the man began sniffing the air around me. "His name is Harry Vanderspiegel. He's a medical doctor," one of the bodyguards informed me.
"Doctor?" I asked incredulously, unable to believe it. "Are you on drugs?"
Harry glanced down and muttered a short, "Fuck," before breaking free from my bodyguards and running toward the exit. As he bolted, I teasingly called after him in a mock alien voice, "(Tss, click click, Donkey noise) Wait!"
"YOU DARE CALL MY MOTHER… FATTY!?" He stopped at the door, turning around, clearly offended. "YOU HUMANS ARE THE ONES WITH FAT CELLS!"
The bodyguards chased after him, but he darted away quickly. The commotion began to die down, and I chuckled as I faced the crowd. "Remember, kids, drugs are bad for you!"
Suddenly, Harry reappeared at the window, pausing in his escape to mock me. Flailing his arms around like a monkey, he said, "Oooh, look at me! I'm a descendant of the apes! I have hair all over me—"
The bodyguards caught up with him again, and he took off once more. Moments later, he popped up again, shouting, "Ooh, look at me! I need external appendages to reproduce my genetic material, making ONE baby at a time! I CAN HAVE HUNDREDS DECENTDANTS AT THE SAME TIME, YOU FATTY FAT FATSO!"
Then, he ran away for good. I looked at the crowd incredulously; they all wore expressions similar to mine. "If anyone recorded that, please tag me when you post it," I said, earning some laughs. As a rule, everyone agreed to post on social media after the event, not during.
After that brief incident, the fan meeting continued. I asked the audience which songs they wanted to hear, and I made their wishes come true. We opened presents, took pictures, signed autographs, and recorded short videos for their friends and family.
A freckled 15-year-old girl with braces stood up shyly after the emcee pointed at her. She grabbed the microphone handed to her by a staff member.
"Um, hi Edward," she greeted me.
"Hi!" I replied, causing her to giggle and prompting laughter from the crowd. "What's your name?" I asked her with a calm voice.
She stammered a bit, "Amanda."
"Hi Amanda. Nice to meet you. What do you want to ask?" I slowly made her feel more comfortable as I saw she was anxious about the attention being on her.
"Um, I just want to ask," she said, fixing her hair. "You're going to release a song in Japanese?"
"Oh, is that already out?" I pretended not to know and turned slightly to my manager before responding, "Yeah, it's already out on YouTube. Do you guys want to watch it with me?"
"Yess!!" the crowd replied enthusiastically. I showed the YouTube video on the projector. A simple music video for the song "Night Dancer" played on the screen, complete with clear subtitles.
The video featured straightforward shots of me enjoying music alongside a Japanese girl, each in our own space. It took just one day to shoot, edit, and upload.
After the song finished, the crowd applauded. The video, uploaded an hour ago, had already racked up 1 million views and was still climbing. Most comments were humorous about my singing in different languages, but the Japanese comments began to flood in.
With automatic translation provided by Entertain website, people could understand what they were saying.
Aoi: Shinjiranai. I can't believe it. He sang so clearly, I thought he was Japanese for a moment. Wonderful!"
Sora: "I cannot wait for you to come to Japan! I love you, Edward-kun!"
Sakura: "Superstar! Can't wait for more songs! Your voice is really good!"
I read some of the comments with my fan club, and we had a blast. An English version of my latest song was released simultaneously, and its views quickly doubled those of the Japanese version.
Amanda, still holding the microphone, asked, "Um, can you tell us why you wrote that song? D-Did you make it too?"
I nodded casually. "Yeah, I wrote both the English and Japanese versions. This song is about separation. I'm going away for a while, and I won't be able to see the people I love as much as I do now. A part of me hopes everything will stay the same when I return, but I also want to see them pursue what they love. It's about cherishing the last moments we have together."
Some fans cheered in admiration, while others looked anxious. Someone shouted, "Are you going to move out of the country?!"
I burst into laughter at the question and teased, "You know what? Maybe I should!"
"NOO!" the younger fans exclaimed in unison, looking genuinely sad. "Ed! Don't go!"
I smirked. "Alright, I won't. I'll stay because of you guys."
They cheered again, and just then, my manager whispered something that made me cackle. The fans leaned in, curious about my laughter. I said, "Ah~ What you just asked me, are also the topic on the VIEW. We should check it out together."
I played the clip on the projector, and we all watched together.
One of the women on the show commented, "Maybe it's because he's traumatized, wanting to move to another country. It's hard to imagine someone witnessing a missile blowing up their house and still being sane. That must be it."
Another woman with dreadlocks chimed in, "But he shouldn't have sung in another language and catered his song entirely to another country. That's very disrespectful to our people."
"Celebrating culture is offensive now?" another woman countered.
Whoopi Goldberg added, "Maybe he does need to apologize to American citizens for this."
I laughed, but soon noticed the crowd's mood shifting. Their expressions grew colder as they absorbed the clip.
"Singing in another language is offensive?" Lily, the fan club president, stood up and exclaimed.
"They think Edward is a sellout?!" Haley added angrily.
Alex and Enid were also fuming. "Screw those guys!" they shouted, clearly upset as they understood the meaning behind my song.
The emcee quickly tried to calm the crowd. "Everyone, take a deep breath. It's okay. It doesn't bother Edward in the least."
I nodded, and the fans turned their frustration toward the emcee. "She's kinda right. Karen, not Whoopi. I also know why they're doing this." The clamoring slowed, and although they were still dissatisfied, they wanted to hear me talk.
I pointed at the screen above me and continued, "For the last couple of days, they've discovered that talking about me boosts their ratings, which is why they're paying extra attention to me. Somehow, I've become a political icon due to my involvement in solving the terror attack on the president."
"Whether I like it or not, these types of programs will mention my name. Whoopi claiming that I need to apologize is just a way for her to get me on the talk show. So ignore them all. Once something else big happens, they'll forget about me."
Elsa exclaimed, "That's pretty unfair! So they're profiting off you, those old hags!"
Enid stood up on her chair, indignantly declaring, "We should sue them! Call their company and voice our complaints!"
"Enid! Sit down!" I scolded playfully. "That's my best friend anyway." I muttered dismissively, rolling my eyes, which made the crowd laugh at Enid's fiery spirit.
"I don't want to make this event political or depressing. I want to enjoy the evening with you guys," I said, prompting swoons of agreement from the audience.
"They are just suckers in front of Ed huh." Alex exclaimed to herself.
The event ended with a performance, and after singing my hit song, even taking suggestions from the fan for what I should sing, the event was finally over.
…
After the event, I met up with my friends backstage. Wiping the sweat from my brow with a wet towel, Enid suddenly snatched it from my hand, grinning. "Imagine how much money I'd make if I sold this on eBay!"
Jenna rolled her eyes while Elsa chimed in, "Are you sure you're not going to keep it and sniff it?"
Enid chuckled nervously, bringing the towel to her face. "I'm not a pervert! Sniff I can control myself."
Mitch and Cam, ignoring Enid's antics, turned to me. "Ed! That was an amazing event!"
"Except for the political part in the middle," Cam added. I slumped slightly, replying, "I wouldn't have had to address that if they hadn't blown the issue out of proportion."
Mitch nodded thoughtfully before asking, "You asked the audience to calm down, but what about those outside?"
I widened my eyes at the thought but quickly pushed it aside. "Well, if they really want to sue, that's on them."
Haley turned to Mitch. "Uncle Mitch, do they actually have grounds to sue?"
"Claiming treason and telling Ed he needs to apologize—it's libel, and yes, there's grounds to sue," Mitch explained.
Cam said, "They didn't really claim it was treason, but rather insinuated it."
Mitchell was a bit confused by his own knowledge and muttered, "Wait. Does he have any grounds?"
"Shit. Pepper," I muttered, immediately checking my phone. Robin quickly notified me, "It's too late. He already submitted the case."
I was speechless for a moment, then sighed helplessly. "Anyway, are you guys heading back now?" I asked Mitch and Cam as I picked up Lily from Cam's arms and hugged her. She giggled, playfully touching my face and even trying to bite my chin.
"We have to," Mitchell said. "We promised the kids' parents we'd be back today." Cam added that they had flown in on the jet, so they weren't tired from the drive. Although I wished they could stay longer, I nodded. "Randall will drive you to the airport—if you can get Lily to let me go, of course."
"Lily! Come here!" Cam clapped his hands to get her attention, but she was completely focused on playing with me. Mitchell tried the same, but Lily was having none of it. It took some time before they finally left Vegas.
Around 10 in the evening, I went to the club with the girls. They didn't even check my Id as they let us in. None of us should even be there, but we were. Privilege of being a celebrity I guess. We did it anonymously without any paparazzi catching our presence there.
The girls wanted to check out the club scene, but honestly, it was too freaky for us. Not on Diddy's level, but still, there was some really disturbing stuff, so we got out immediately after not even 2 minutes inside the club.
"Can't believe these are the types of clubs I got invitations into." Vanessa grumbled as we sat in the car. I chuckled and said, " Marshall wants me to stop by if I can. I'm going to his hotel, what do you girls want to do?"
"Can you send us back first? There's a lot of paparazzi at the club there, so I'm not going to risk it." Taylor said. Amongst the four of us, she has the greatest priority to keep her image as a 'good' girl.
"Us?" Selena turned to her, confused. Both Taylor and Selena sat at the back of the car together. Selena then realized that she had a contract with Disney, so she pouted as she accepted the fact that she couldn't go.
Taylor scolded her, "You won't even get inside the club. They check your id there. None of us can get inside."
Vanessa said, "I'll go with you." Taylor rolled her eyes slightly but she didn't say anything.
"It's not a club. I'm going to his suite to meet Snoop." I explained. "So we'll probably get high." Vanessa smiled with anticipation.
I paused for a bit before I replied, "Possibly."
Not long after we arrived there, both of us already had a blunt in our hand.
Snoop complained, "I'm sick of the Empire State of mind song. We Californians need our own songs." We were sitting in a conversation pit with Eminem, Dr Dre, Snoop, some girls, and other rappers.
Vanessa nuzzled her body against mine, even resting her head on my shoulder.
"Oh, Edward has an idea about that!" Vanessa immediately chimed in. I looked at her with disbelief and said, "What?" Everyone looked at me, and Marshall immediately leaned forward, looking at me with some anticipation in his eyes.
"You told me before. "California Girls". Tell them." Vanessa grinned before resting her head against mine again.
"Edward. You seem like a nice kid. And if you have an idea that can go bigger than the Empire, we can collaborate." Snoop said playfully.
I let out a burst of mirth as I myself was in disbelief of what's happening. "Alright then." I leaned forward, putting my blunt out on the ashtray. "We can talk about collaboration. But, we need to have another person. That is, Katy Perry."