Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2255065-Britney-the-YANA-girl
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fanfiction · #2255065
A mega fan recounts her experiences at an MJ concert with an (ex) friend?


I hate her so much right now; I could gag, throw up or much preferably kick something to kingdom come.

The fact that she’s my best friend (ex-best friend from the look of things) is what really gets my goat.

I was the one who spent most of my savings getting the damn tickets. I was the one who begged her to come with me when she kept whining about missing her favorite T.V show and that besides, she wasn’t even such a big fan of Michael and what did I really see in the guy anyway because he looks so freaky. It was I who managed to get us up to the very front row, suffering through hours of being crushed against the barricades by smelly, sweaty, shoving, annoying fans who kept screaming in my ear. I had to suffer through her whines (and God! can she whine like it’s going out of style) and even when my idol…the love of my life…eventually came on stage, she was actually trying to stifle a goddamn yawn!

How dare she?!

I tried to ignore her attitude and her bitching, and after a while she sort of began to get into the show, even going as far as bobbing her head when ‘Jam’ was performed. By the time it got to one of my most favorite songs in the history of all songs – ‘You are Not Alone’ – I was screaming my lungs out and crying in joy as my ‘husband’ sang to me and only me.

Oh my God! I can’t even begin to describe how dreamy he looked in those sinful gold pants that showed everything! (if you know what I mean). What can I say? My husband has been more than ‘gifted’ in certain areas.

When I noticed the big heavyset security guy coming down the steps to begin the search for the lucky girl that was to be the official YANA girl for this leg of the tour, the excitement grew to a fever pitch and I did my darnest best to be noticed. I hoped I wasn’t too sweaty and goodness knows I was waaaaay prettier than the other skanks around me. So I put up my biggest grin and tried to act all sexy.

When he came closer to our side, my heart was beating so hard, I thought I would die! But I couldn’t afford to die considering if I died right then, what would be the point? I had to be alive long enough to give my husband a hug.

“You. Come.”

It was only two words, but those two words would change my life forever.

Unfortunately, not in a good way at the time.

I watched, as if in slow motion, as my (ex) best friend was tugged on her arm, and almost lifted out of her spot. I watched in growing horror and mild shock as she was led up the steps and I watched…watched my husband reach out to her, his voice shaking as if overwhelmed at the sight of Britney-I-Don’t-Really-Want-To-Go-To-This-Stupid-Concert approaching him. I ignored the squeals of delight from the fans around me as I watched Britney engulfed in an embrace I had spent most of my adult life dreaming about. I watched as they moved together in unison, catching sight of her surprised and blushing features, magnified on those two ginormous screens, as she clung to him like the leech she was. I wanted to scratch her eyes out as anger bubbled inside of me.

How unfair was that?! I was supposed to be up there! Why in hell does she get to hug THE Michael Jackson and not me?! I’m the bigger fan. I love him the most and IMHO Britney could care less who she was hugging!

True to her flimsy nature, she fainted right after (although a part of me doesn’t really blame her for doing that. I mean seriously, who can survive that embrace without wanting to pass out?) and I was forced to ask the security guard about where they were taking her to; even going as far as leaving the concert so I could do the ‘best-friend-thing’ and stay by her side.

Sometimes I think I’m just too nice for my own good.

So there I am, sitting beside her on the narrow cot in one of the stuffy and crowded tents set up for all the concert faints. It was crazy busy in there and I watched with mild disgust at all the screaming or gasping girls who only wanted to touch my precious Michael. Luckily, a large screen had been set up back here for us to watch the rest of the show, which was no fun anyway. I mean, there was no shoving and pushing, but it wasn’t the same experience, you know?

“Wha…what happened?” came the groggy question, and I glared at the blonde bimbo as she sat up slowly. “Where am I?”

“Take a wild guess,” I snapped impatiently.

She looked at me with those dumb blue eyes of hers…then looked around the crowded space…and then glanced at the screen where Michael was currently being strapped into some contraption to make his grand departure from the stage.


Oooh? Urgh. Her eyes widened in memory and she slapped her hands on her cheeks as they filled with color.

“I…I hugged him.”

Ding! Ding! Ding! Someone give this girl a medal for beating her random bursts of amnesia. Like how could anyone forget such an experience?!

“Oh my gosh, Diana! I hugged him! I hugged him!”

She was tugging my arm and squealing this in my ear and boy, was I not in the mood for her crap.

“Yes, yes, you hugged him. I’m happy for you.” Not.

“Did you get a picture??!”

I almost choked in disbelief. “Picture? What picture?!” Oh, I had a picture all right. A horrific mental photograph that’s burned in my brain for the rest of my life!

She wasn’t even listening to me as she sat up and began to ramble. “Oh my gosh, D! He smells soooooo good! He was sweaty though, but damn! He was so….oooh! Yummilicious!”

Yummilicious?! This for the same guy you couldn’t stand mere hours ago?

“And you know what?” she leaned closer to me, her voice lowered, eyes bright as she whispered in my ear. “I felt his…you know.”


“Oh.My.God.D. He is hung!” She giggled and fell back on the cot. “And he hugged me so hard and said ‘you’re beautiful’ in my ear and then he sort of ground himself against me a little, but man, that was enough! That man is nasty, girl. I love it! Why didn’t you tell me he was such a playa?”

Now, she was trying to act black. Okay, I was officially done. If I didn’t get out of there in the next few minutes, I was going to explode.

“Well, the show’s over. We should go.”

She actually had the gall to pout when I should be the one crying!

Anyway, as we were about to leave the tent, the security dude that yanked her out (by mistake!) came up to us.

“Can you ladies come with me for a minute?”

Oh snap! Now what? I hoped to God Britney hadn’t said anything while up there to get us in trouble. Knowing her she might have probably told my husband that she was planning to have his babies and now Frank Dileo and his crew wanted us eliminated from the picture.

“Wait here.”

Here was backstage where, let me tell you, was hella chaotic. People were walking back and forth like Britney and I didn’t even exist and some douche bag almost knocked me to the ground in his attempt to carter away some giant box that looked like an armored chest.

My (ex) best friend was too busy ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ and I was getting more and more impatient until…wouldn’t you believe it?! The love of my life was walking towards us!

Oh my God. Okay, I’m shaking as I’m typing this but if I’m lying, may I be struck dead by a bolt of lightning!

He was drinking from a paper cup, walking fast with like a gagillion bodyguards and other people following him. I thought for sure he was going to walk right by us, but security dude whispered something in his ear, and he noticed us and he smiled…


…and then he accepted some photographs from his posse, signed it in a flourish and walked up to us.

I think the conversation that followed went a little something like:

My Husband: Thank you for coming to the show.
Britney + Me: Uuuuuuh….
My Husband: I hope you liked the show.
Britney + Me: Uuuuuuh….
My Husband: *giggle* Can I give you both a hug?
Me: *inner death of magnificent proportions*
Britney (that ho!) was already clinging to him again! Bitch get off him!

But I got my hug and my (ex) best friend wasn’t kidding. His outfit was soaked with sweat, but I didn’t care! Oh my God! He has a strong grip you know, and he really knows how to make a girl feel special. I think I died and went to heaven. In fact, I’m SURE I died and went to heaven because I didn’t want to let him go, but damn if security dude didn’t show up again to break us up.

I think I must have said something like ‘I love you, Michael’ or ‘Marry me, Michael’ because he laughed and walked away with another wave and a blown kiss.

Oh, my husband is such a tease.

“YOU’RE SO SEXY!!!” Someone screamed and of course, you can only imagine who said that. I swear the girl has no decorum! My husband had looked back as his posse laughed, and his blush was so cute! I think I’ll forgive her for saying such a thing, if only for the extra expression I received.

Anyway, that’s how the concert went and my signed photograph is going to be sleeping with me tonight. I have to keep my hubby by my side at all times.

Oh gee. Guess who’s calling me now? It’s Britney-Michael-Jackson-hugged-me-and-I’m-officially-his-biggest-fan is on the line. I should just ignore her, but seriously, who else can I talk to about tonight?! I’ve gotta go, but I’ll come back tomorrow to blog some more about how Michael smelled and how soft his hair is. So, check in for a new entry tomorrow.

G’night and kisses!

Lady D signing out!

© Copyright 2021 iKïyå§ama (satet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2255065-Britney-the-YANA-girl