Chapter 10
A/N: Mostly memories between Di and Chris. Dedicated to my lovely Mr. Leg for all of his help. (In case you are wondering, Mr. Leg is a Ken Doll's leg.)
"Di! Can you sign this for Darren, please?…Di, do you miss Chris?…Di, aren't you singing at the Grammy's?…You're my idol!"
Always this stream of fans flocking to her. At first, it had been fun. But now they had a habit of showing up when she wanted them least. Di did not want to sign another autograph for the rest of her life. And they never gave up, either. Always hounding on her, bringing up things she didn't want to talk about…It was a love/hate relationship between Di Casablanca and her fans.
"Harold," she muttered under her breath, "please."
"Miss Casablanca does not want to talk today," Harold proclaimed. "Thank you for coming. Please, step away."
The group of adorers groaned in disappointment as Di, wearing huge sunglasses and a gigantically brimmed hat, disappeared into the building.
~*~
"Chris! Slow down!" She squealed, the wind blowing through her tangled hair and the sea spraying out behind them. Sunshine beat cheerfully upon their tanned, freckled bodies and only added to the dreamlike state of weather. The boat cut swiftly through the water, egged on by the heavy, sweet-salty sea breeze. Chris laughed and stood on the driver's chair, letting the breeze tousle his hair and making water fly into the boat.
"Get down! Get down!" Di laughed, tugging him down with one hand, the other on the steering wheel.
"I'm king of the world!" He whooped into the sky. Di finally yanked him down upon her lap and he pressed his salty lips to hers.
"You belong to the sky, the sun, and ocean." She whispered into his ear, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against hers. "Not to me."
"And you to the moon and stars."
"We sound like poets tripping on acid."
"On love!" Chris shouted, sending them both into peals of hysterical laughter at everything and nothing at all.
How happy things had been, Chris thought as the memory faded. His arms ached to hold her again. His eyes longed to see her. Every part of him missed Di in some way. Now he was nothing but a songwriter, trying to sell songs to those who needed more than dreams. He'd quit as her lead guitarist. It was too hard to stay with nothing but memories and heartbreak.
He saw her on MTV. He saw her on Entertainment Tonight. He heard her on the radio, read about her in the magazines. Di was everywhere.
Except where she should be.
With him.
Her new guitarist, a nineteen-year-old boy with big dreams and even bigger eyes, tried hard to fill Chris's place. There was something, Di noticed, that was not right. They had no chemistry.
None of her songs sounded right. She couldn't sing them correctly, either. Oh, why had she been so stupid?
Richard Duke, however, was glowing with the steady stream of revenue Di was bringing in and with his sudden attention from the beautiful starlet. Late- night dinners at the finest restaurants, just the two of them. But Di's eyes were always glazed over with something more than memories, something more than tears.
~*~
The smell of hot, buttered popcorn mingled with sticky-sweet cotton candy and cigarette smoke wafted to them as they strolled hand in hand through the Los Angeles carnival. The menagerie of people, ranging from infants to the very old, rich to the very poor, immigrants to carnival vagabonds, surrounded them, but to Chris and Di, they were alone in the world. Di had gotten off early from Red's, despite it being raver mantra night (Peace, Love, Unity, Respect). And here they were, completely happy just being together.
"This is pretty," Chris fingered a silver bracelet being sold by a gypsy- looking woman. "How much?"
"Twenty dollar." She answered in reluctant English.
"Twenty? That's it?"
The woman nodded, eager to make a sale.
"It's real, right?"
"Yes."
"I'll take it. And the music note charm, the heart-shaped charm, and the unicorn charm."
"Chris!" Di protested. "You don't have to buy me anything!"
"Who said it was for you?" Di's eyes grew wide. "I'm just kidding, Diamond."
The woman handed Chris the bracelet and waved them off, saying, "You keep that girl. She's a treasure. You hear me, boy?"
"I guess she does speak English."
Di ate a stick of pink cotton candy and Chris consumed two hot dogs during their trip around the carnival grounds. "Let's go in here," Di said, gesturing to the fun house. "C'mon."
Through the mirrors that distorted their figures and made them giggle like little kids, across the shaking boards that were reminiscent of "Grease," and down the slides they traveled, reveling in the childhood memories it evoked for both of them.
"The Tunnel of Love…" Chris said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"There's a line. How about the haunted house?"
"No!"
"You scared?" Di teased.
"I am! Look at it!"
"I'll hold your hand."
"I'm going to scream."
"That's okay."
"Let's go in." They hopped into the little cart and were shot off into the dark passageway. Just like a frightened little boy, Chris grasped Di's hand; she just laughed. When they felt hands on their arms, Chris jumped right into Di's arms but did not scream.
When they had finished that awful experience, Chris proclaimed, "It's my turn. We're going in the Tunnel of Love. Nothing scary in there."
"Except for that guy," Di giggled, pointing to a huge man with a bald head and jeans that were dangerously low. "How's he going to fit his wife in there with him?"
"They'll get into two boats and hold hands."
"That's mean."
"You started it. Come on, fair maiden." In a knightly motion, Chris swept Di into his arms and placed her in their boat. And off they floated.
"Chris!" Di squealed as they passed a booth. "Will you win me a big teddy bear? I've always wanted one…"
"No way! It's just a scam," he scoffed.
"Pwease?" A sad puppy face weakened his determination and Chris gave in.
"Okay."
Like an excited schoolgirl, Di jumped up and down when Chris shot down all four swimming, wooden ducks and the gigantic, half-her-size, hot pink teddy bear was placed into her arms. "His name is…" She pondered a moment.
"Herman."
"Sounds great."
"A Tilt-a-Whirl! No way!" Chris exclaimed. "Let's take Herman on his first Tilt-a-Whirl ride!"
"I love Tilt-a-Whirls!" Di grabbed Chris's hand and they sat in the huge strawberry. Around and around, lightning-fast they swung, yelling and laughing the whole time. The ride reminded Chris of his first night at Red's, the flash of colors and music and laugher…
"Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after that ice cream," he decided when they were done, swaying as he walked. "I feel dizzy."
"Me too. Let's go on the Ferris Wheel."
On top of what seemed to be the world, they twirled slowly around above the lit-up Los Angeles. It was dark now, and the moonlight, the starlight, and the fluorescent lights of the Ferris Wheel were sending Di into some sort of love-happy ecstasy-like trip. With Chris at her side, the taste of cotton candy lingering in her mouth, and her heart bursting, life could not have been better.
They were at the very top when Chris whispered into her ear, "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide." He took her hand and continued, "I don't have much money, but boy, if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live."
"You're crazy, sugar," Di laughed.
"I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do; my gift is my song and this one's for you!"
In a bout of temporary insanity, Chris stood up on the Ferris Wheel's little box and burst out, "You can tell everybody that this is your song. It may be quite simple now that it's done. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you're in the world!"
"Chris! You're going to fall! Be careful!" Di grabbed his hand to try and pull him back to reality, but no such luck.
"So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do," he rang out in his magnificent tenor. "You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue! And, well, the thing is, what I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen!"
He took her hand and made her stand, still singing. His eyes sparkled more than the stars above them and Di couldn't help but fall even more in love with him.
Still singing, still on top of the Ferris Wheel underneath those intoxicating stars, lost in the depths of Di's midnight-blue eyes, Chris finished. "You can tell everybody that this is your song! It may be quite simple now that it's done. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words…"
"How wonderful life is now you're in the world." Di added softly, sitting him down beside her and pulling him into a kiss.
And the fireworks burst in the sky, yet not as large and colorful as the fireworks in both of their hearts.
~*~
"Di? Di?" Duke's voice brought her back to harsh reality. She was no longer at the carnival with Chris. She was at yet another restaurant with Richard Duke. Di couldn't help but feel guilty for leading him on this way and letting him buy her expensive dinners, but there was nothing she could do. She had to satisfy this terrible man for her career. It was, however, getting very monotonous and frustrating.
Now that her star had taken off, Di was sure that Arista would take her. Or Sony. Virgin Records, maybe. She could break off all ties with Richard and Roxanne Records, start anew with Chris…
That was impossible.
But she went to Harold with it the next day. "No, chickpea. It won't work. Duke owns the rights to your name, to your songs…"
"But Harold…oh, Harold, how I miss Chris. I don't care anymore! I'll sacrifice my career!" She broke down and sobbed, let free the tears she'd been holding back for days and days.
"The show must go on, darling. The show must go on."
~*~
Yet another memory was racking his brain. Chris couldn't forget her! It was driving him crazy.
"A karaoke bar! What fortune we have stumbled upon, my lord." Said Lady Di, a vision in a white, off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, jeans, and rhinestone- encrusted Adidas Superstars she'd just bought. "Shall we go in and show them what we've got?"
"Why, of course, Lady Di," answered Sir Christian. "We'll knock them off their feet, as we always do."
After enduring a giggling, nasal-voiced woman singing "I Will Always Love You" and a drunken biker warbling, "Stairway to Heaven," Chris and Di were up. Looking through the offered songs, one caught Di's eye. "Come What May…" she said. "Let's do this one."
"Wasn't this from that movie with Nicole Kidman?"
"I think so."
Chris took the mike first, reading the lyrics as they scrolled across the screen. "Never knew I could feel like this, like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss, every day I love you more and more. Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing, telling me to give you everything? Seasons may change, winter to spring, but I love you until the end of time."
She stood aside, smiling softly and staring into his eyes as he sang to her.
"Come what may, come what may. I will love you until my dying day!"
With the rapt attention of their "audience" now consisting of some college kids, the biker and the nose-woman, the bartender, some truckers, and some floozy-looking women, Di stepped up to Chris's side and sang her verse.
"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
suddenly moves with such a perfect grace.
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste,
It all revolves around you."
Chris's tenor melded with Di's shimmering alto as they continued, all eyes on them. "There's no mountain too high, no river too wide. Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side. Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide, but I love you until the end of time."
After they'd finished, breathless and giddy, Lady Di and Sir Christian took deep, dramatic bows at the demand of the crowd.
And then they kissed…
Yet another memory saved forever in his mind.
~*~
"I'm Joan Rivers at the 2002 Grammy Awards! After U2's big sweep last year, this year, who knows what will happen? Here is our Best New Artist and Best Female Artist nominee, Di Casablanca. Who are you wearing, Di?"
Di smiled at the camera and twirled about to show off her dress. It was white, strapless, with decorative silver designs on the bodice and at the bottom of the skirt. A breathtaking diamond necklace hung from her swanlike neck. Drop diamond earrings decorated her ears and a thin strand of diamonds was weaved into her hair. She felt beautiful and she looked it, too. "I'm wearing a custom-made Versace, Joan."
"You look beautiful, darling. Who is this that you've brought with?"
Richard Duke hung possessively on her arm and he gave that disgustingly rabbity grin at the camera. Di tried not to notice the expression on Joan's face and laughed inwardly. "This is Richard Duke, my label owner," she explained.
"Hello, Richie. You're performing tonight, aren't you, Di?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good luck to you tonight, Di. Thanks for stopping by."
She was starstruck. Even after almost a year of her celebrity lifestyle, this was amazing. She floated past Elton John, Madonna, Bono from U2, even Paul McCartney. Each said hello to her and wished her good luck. Di felt as though she must have looked like a dumb little child for her mouth froze and she couldn't say anything back but incoherent mumbling.
"Are you nervous?" Asked someone who looked very much like Ozzy Osbourne, shaking Di's hand warmly. "Di, love, are you nervous?" He repeated.
"I…I am."
"Good luck, love."
"Tha…thank you," Di stammered, accepting the hug he offered.
The lights dimmed in the auditorium and everyone was silent for a minute. All eyes were on the stage. Nobody noticed as Chris, wearing a white jacket and black pants thrown together at last minute, slid inside and sat several rows from the back.
"It's going to be quite a night tonight," stated the returning host, Jon Stewart.
No-one expected what kind of night it was going to be.
END OF CHAPTER 10
A/N: Wow! 89 reviews and counting! This is the most I've ever had! Thank you all! You know I love you! (I ended every sentence with an exclamation, I'm so happy.)
Songs Used:
"Your Song" by Elton John (No kidding?)
"Come What May" by David Baerwald
All celebrities mentioned in this chapter are copyright themselves.
A/N: Mostly memories between Di and Chris. Dedicated to my lovely Mr. Leg for all of his help. (In case you are wondering, Mr. Leg is a Ken Doll's leg.)
"Di! Can you sign this for Darren, please?…Di, do you miss Chris?…Di, aren't you singing at the Grammy's?…You're my idol!"
Always this stream of fans flocking to her. At first, it had been fun. But now they had a habit of showing up when she wanted them least. Di did not want to sign another autograph for the rest of her life. And they never gave up, either. Always hounding on her, bringing up things she didn't want to talk about…It was a love/hate relationship between Di Casablanca and her fans.
"Harold," she muttered under her breath, "please."
"Miss Casablanca does not want to talk today," Harold proclaimed. "Thank you for coming. Please, step away."
The group of adorers groaned in disappointment as Di, wearing huge sunglasses and a gigantically brimmed hat, disappeared into the building.
~*~
"Chris! Slow down!" She squealed, the wind blowing through her tangled hair and the sea spraying out behind them. Sunshine beat cheerfully upon their tanned, freckled bodies and only added to the dreamlike state of weather. The boat cut swiftly through the water, egged on by the heavy, sweet-salty sea breeze. Chris laughed and stood on the driver's chair, letting the breeze tousle his hair and making water fly into the boat.
"Get down! Get down!" Di laughed, tugging him down with one hand, the other on the steering wheel.
"I'm king of the world!" He whooped into the sky. Di finally yanked him down upon her lap and he pressed his salty lips to hers.
"You belong to the sky, the sun, and ocean." She whispered into his ear, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against hers. "Not to me."
"And you to the moon and stars."
"We sound like poets tripping on acid."
"On love!" Chris shouted, sending them both into peals of hysterical laughter at everything and nothing at all.
How happy things had been, Chris thought as the memory faded. His arms ached to hold her again. His eyes longed to see her. Every part of him missed Di in some way. Now he was nothing but a songwriter, trying to sell songs to those who needed more than dreams. He'd quit as her lead guitarist. It was too hard to stay with nothing but memories and heartbreak.
He saw her on MTV. He saw her on Entertainment Tonight. He heard her on the radio, read about her in the magazines. Di was everywhere.
Except where she should be.
With him.
Her new guitarist, a nineteen-year-old boy with big dreams and even bigger eyes, tried hard to fill Chris's place. There was something, Di noticed, that was not right. They had no chemistry.
None of her songs sounded right. She couldn't sing them correctly, either. Oh, why had she been so stupid?
Richard Duke, however, was glowing with the steady stream of revenue Di was bringing in and with his sudden attention from the beautiful starlet. Late- night dinners at the finest restaurants, just the two of them. But Di's eyes were always glazed over with something more than memories, something more than tears.
~*~
The smell of hot, buttered popcorn mingled with sticky-sweet cotton candy and cigarette smoke wafted to them as they strolled hand in hand through the Los Angeles carnival. The menagerie of people, ranging from infants to the very old, rich to the very poor, immigrants to carnival vagabonds, surrounded them, but to Chris and Di, they were alone in the world. Di had gotten off early from Red's, despite it being raver mantra night (Peace, Love, Unity, Respect). And here they were, completely happy just being together.
"This is pretty," Chris fingered a silver bracelet being sold by a gypsy- looking woman. "How much?"
"Twenty dollar." She answered in reluctant English.
"Twenty? That's it?"
The woman nodded, eager to make a sale.
"It's real, right?"
"Yes."
"I'll take it. And the music note charm, the heart-shaped charm, and the unicorn charm."
"Chris!" Di protested. "You don't have to buy me anything!"
"Who said it was for you?" Di's eyes grew wide. "I'm just kidding, Diamond."
The woman handed Chris the bracelet and waved them off, saying, "You keep that girl. She's a treasure. You hear me, boy?"
"I guess she does speak English."
Di ate a stick of pink cotton candy and Chris consumed two hot dogs during their trip around the carnival grounds. "Let's go in here," Di said, gesturing to the fun house. "C'mon."
Through the mirrors that distorted their figures and made them giggle like little kids, across the shaking boards that were reminiscent of "Grease," and down the slides they traveled, reveling in the childhood memories it evoked for both of them.
"The Tunnel of Love…" Chris said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"There's a line. How about the haunted house?"
"No!"
"You scared?" Di teased.
"I am! Look at it!"
"I'll hold your hand."
"I'm going to scream."
"That's okay."
"Let's go in." They hopped into the little cart and were shot off into the dark passageway. Just like a frightened little boy, Chris grasped Di's hand; she just laughed. When they felt hands on their arms, Chris jumped right into Di's arms but did not scream.
When they had finished that awful experience, Chris proclaimed, "It's my turn. We're going in the Tunnel of Love. Nothing scary in there."
"Except for that guy," Di giggled, pointing to a huge man with a bald head and jeans that were dangerously low. "How's he going to fit his wife in there with him?"
"They'll get into two boats and hold hands."
"That's mean."
"You started it. Come on, fair maiden." In a knightly motion, Chris swept Di into his arms and placed her in their boat. And off they floated.
"Chris!" Di squealed as they passed a booth. "Will you win me a big teddy bear? I've always wanted one…"
"No way! It's just a scam," he scoffed.
"Pwease?" A sad puppy face weakened his determination and Chris gave in.
"Okay."
Like an excited schoolgirl, Di jumped up and down when Chris shot down all four swimming, wooden ducks and the gigantic, half-her-size, hot pink teddy bear was placed into her arms. "His name is…" She pondered a moment.
"Herman."
"Sounds great."
"A Tilt-a-Whirl! No way!" Chris exclaimed. "Let's take Herman on his first Tilt-a-Whirl ride!"
"I love Tilt-a-Whirls!" Di grabbed Chris's hand and they sat in the huge strawberry. Around and around, lightning-fast they swung, yelling and laughing the whole time. The ride reminded Chris of his first night at Red's, the flash of colors and music and laugher…
"Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after that ice cream," he decided when they were done, swaying as he walked. "I feel dizzy."
"Me too. Let's go on the Ferris Wheel."
On top of what seemed to be the world, they twirled slowly around above the lit-up Los Angeles. It was dark now, and the moonlight, the starlight, and the fluorescent lights of the Ferris Wheel were sending Di into some sort of love-happy ecstasy-like trip. With Chris at her side, the taste of cotton candy lingering in her mouth, and her heart bursting, life could not have been better.
They were at the very top when Chris whispered into her ear, "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide." He took her hand and continued, "I don't have much money, but boy, if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live."
"You're crazy, sugar," Di laughed.
"I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do; my gift is my song and this one's for you!"
In a bout of temporary insanity, Chris stood up on the Ferris Wheel's little box and burst out, "You can tell everybody that this is your song. It may be quite simple now that it's done. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you're in the world!"
"Chris! You're going to fall! Be careful!" Di grabbed his hand to try and pull him back to reality, but no such luck.
"So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do," he rang out in his magnificent tenor. "You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue! And, well, the thing is, what I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen!"
He took her hand and made her stand, still singing. His eyes sparkled more than the stars above them and Di couldn't help but fall even more in love with him.
Still singing, still on top of the Ferris Wheel underneath those intoxicating stars, lost in the depths of Di's midnight-blue eyes, Chris finished. "You can tell everybody that this is your song! It may be quite simple now that it's done. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words…"
"How wonderful life is now you're in the world." Di added softly, sitting him down beside her and pulling him into a kiss.
And the fireworks burst in the sky, yet not as large and colorful as the fireworks in both of their hearts.
~*~
"Di? Di?" Duke's voice brought her back to harsh reality. She was no longer at the carnival with Chris. She was at yet another restaurant with Richard Duke. Di couldn't help but feel guilty for leading him on this way and letting him buy her expensive dinners, but there was nothing she could do. She had to satisfy this terrible man for her career. It was, however, getting very monotonous and frustrating.
Now that her star had taken off, Di was sure that Arista would take her. Or Sony. Virgin Records, maybe. She could break off all ties with Richard and Roxanne Records, start anew with Chris…
That was impossible.
But she went to Harold with it the next day. "No, chickpea. It won't work. Duke owns the rights to your name, to your songs…"
"But Harold…oh, Harold, how I miss Chris. I don't care anymore! I'll sacrifice my career!" She broke down and sobbed, let free the tears she'd been holding back for days and days.
"The show must go on, darling. The show must go on."
~*~
Yet another memory was racking his brain. Chris couldn't forget her! It was driving him crazy.
"A karaoke bar! What fortune we have stumbled upon, my lord." Said Lady Di, a vision in a white, off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, jeans, and rhinestone- encrusted Adidas Superstars she'd just bought. "Shall we go in and show them what we've got?"
"Why, of course, Lady Di," answered Sir Christian. "We'll knock them off their feet, as we always do."
After enduring a giggling, nasal-voiced woman singing "I Will Always Love You" and a drunken biker warbling, "Stairway to Heaven," Chris and Di were up. Looking through the offered songs, one caught Di's eye. "Come What May…" she said. "Let's do this one."
"Wasn't this from that movie with Nicole Kidman?"
"I think so."
Chris took the mike first, reading the lyrics as they scrolled across the screen. "Never knew I could feel like this, like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss, every day I love you more and more. Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing, telling me to give you everything? Seasons may change, winter to spring, but I love you until the end of time."
She stood aside, smiling softly and staring into his eyes as he sang to her.
"Come what may, come what may. I will love you until my dying day!"
With the rapt attention of their "audience" now consisting of some college kids, the biker and the nose-woman, the bartender, some truckers, and some floozy-looking women, Di stepped up to Chris's side and sang her verse.
"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
suddenly moves with such a perfect grace.
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste,
It all revolves around you."
Chris's tenor melded with Di's shimmering alto as they continued, all eyes on them. "There's no mountain too high, no river too wide. Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side. Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide, but I love you until the end of time."
After they'd finished, breathless and giddy, Lady Di and Sir Christian took deep, dramatic bows at the demand of the crowd.
And then they kissed…
Yet another memory saved forever in his mind.
~*~
"I'm Joan Rivers at the 2002 Grammy Awards! After U2's big sweep last year, this year, who knows what will happen? Here is our Best New Artist and Best Female Artist nominee, Di Casablanca. Who are you wearing, Di?"
Di smiled at the camera and twirled about to show off her dress. It was white, strapless, with decorative silver designs on the bodice and at the bottom of the skirt. A breathtaking diamond necklace hung from her swanlike neck. Drop diamond earrings decorated her ears and a thin strand of diamonds was weaved into her hair. She felt beautiful and she looked it, too. "I'm wearing a custom-made Versace, Joan."
"You look beautiful, darling. Who is this that you've brought with?"
Richard Duke hung possessively on her arm and he gave that disgustingly rabbity grin at the camera. Di tried not to notice the expression on Joan's face and laughed inwardly. "This is Richard Duke, my label owner," she explained.
"Hello, Richie. You're performing tonight, aren't you, Di?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good luck to you tonight, Di. Thanks for stopping by."
She was starstruck. Even after almost a year of her celebrity lifestyle, this was amazing. She floated past Elton John, Madonna, Bono from U2, even Paul McCartney. Each said hello to her and wished her good luck. Di felt as though she must have looked like a dumb little child for her mouth froze and she couldn't say anything back but incoherent mumbling.
"Are you nervous?" Asked someone who looked very much like Ozzy Osbourne, shaking Di's hand warmly. "Di, love, are you nervous?" He repeated.
"I…I am."
"Good luck, love."
"Tha…thank you," Di stammered, accepting the hug he offered.
The lights dimmed in the auditorium and everyone was silent for a minute. All eyes were on the stage. Nobody noticed as Chris, wearing a white jacket and black pants thrown together at last minute, slid inside and sat several rows from the back.
"It's going to be quite a night tonight," stated the returning host, Jon Stewart.
No-one expected what kind of night it was going to be.
END OF CHAPTER 10
A/N: Wow! 89 reviews and counting! This is the most I've ever had! Thank you all! You know I love you! (I ended every sentence with an exclamation, I'm so happy.)
Songs Used:
"Your Song" by Elton John (No kidding?)
"Come What May" by David Baerwald
All celebrities mentioned in this chapter are copyright themselves.