The perfume | Teen Ink

The perfume

November 4, 2016
By TaylorHiggns, Clarkston, Michigan
More by this author
TaylorHiggns, Clarkston, Michigan
0 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The day started off like any other day. Woke up, sat in bed watching TV, slowly  crawling out of bed, and mulling down the stairs to the entrancing smell of breakfast my dad had prepared. I scarfed down the sweet and salty bacon and pancakes and wobbled out to the garage where my mom was on the computer. My brother and my dad followed.
“So, any takers on great Grandma’s perfume?” My dad asked her. She turned around with a wide grin on her face, scanning us, preparing us for the big surprise.
“Paul Mccartney’s guitarist just emailed me, and wants to buy it for however much we want for it”
I was shocked, my mom tightly gripped the mouse. My Dad’s jaw dropped..
“W-What?” My huge rock fan dad stammered. As a little kid, my mom had very many situations like this. She would talk about record label people or other musicians doing stuff with her or offering her to do something with them. I felt that this was a little different than doing business. At that moment that out of all people in the world, he is the one who found our offer, and we posted it just as he started looking for it. It was for a Cadillac antique set he wanted to complete, and he was grateful we were willing to sell it to him. He was very sincere and polite in his email, and we could tell he was a gentleman.
“I got to know him quite a bit over email, it turns out I used to promote another one of his band mate’s bands.” She said, “ He wants us to come to a show of theirs’ for free when they’re in town.” I dropped the pen I was twiddling in my hand on the ground, my dad didn’t even flinch to try and grab it. I could tell he was even more excited than I was. We all had a big opportunity in front of us. I couldn’t  comprehend exactly what that had meant at the moment, but what I know now is how lucky we all were to get that email.

A few years passed, he never came by anywhere near Detroit, until one day. My mom gathered us all up together and read an email from Brian Ray. The email said that they would be in town on October 10th, 2015, and said he had 3 backstage passes for us. One for me, my mom and A friend. We chose our neighbor’s uncle Tom, a huge beatles fan.

 The day came, and we went down to the Joe Louis arena after school. We walked into the ticket booth, without a single eye darting towards us. We went up to the lady there and showed her our cards, and she handed us the VIP passes.  They were laminated, with a action shot of Paul singing. The lamentation made the passes shine like diamonds. We slipped them around each other’s necks like we were crowning each other as royalty, and boastfully strode out. Almost everyone in the room looked our way as we strode out of the ticket booth. We had business to attend to.

We went through some security checks, and finally into the backstage room. There was a glossy wooden bar with a huge assortment of expensive wines. The room was small, but full of noise and bustle. security stood by the door, standing as still as statues. The whole scene made me feel out of place, because I had felt important before, but not this important.

Suddenly, the man himself walked in the room. His hair was long and blonde, rockstar blonde. My childhood incarnation of a rockstar kicked in. The kid in me expected loud arrogance and intense gloating. He carried himself like a graceful cowboy who didn’t need to put effort in to get things done. He walked over hastily, welcoming us with a big kind smile.

“Well hey there guys! I'm so glad you could make it!” He exclaimed, “I'm sorry we weren’t around your homebase here a little sooner.”
“Oh no, thank you so much for having us come! I'm so happy we finally get to meet you!” My mom replied. I smiled, trying to say something, but only dry air blew out, so I just ended up nodding and smiling. I snapped back into reality, and instead my attention turned toward a wide eyed, bright smiling, humble golden blonde man, who just loved what he did. I realized he was shorter than me. He was excited, just like I was.
“Oh, so this is Taylor isn’t it!?” he exclaimed to my mother. With all the confidence I could muster, I reached out my sweaty hand like I was tending a fire pit.   
“Yes I am. Thank you so much for inviting us here! And i'm so glad I could finally meet you too”His bright smile suddenly drooped down to a sympathizing frown.
“I'm so sorry for your loss, Taylor. I'm sure your dad would love that you made it here”

Tears nearly came to my eyes as a rush of melancholy swelled in my throat. I was stunned. I would never expect that someone like him would take a moment to try to be a frIend, and to do somethIng to support someone who just sold him perfume. My breathing steadied, my heart started to pound a little less.
“Thank you, we’re doing fine at home now, I really appreciate that.”

I no longer saw a rockstar standing in front of me, but something better. I saw a person, a wonderful, caring selfless person who would take the time to bring people he hardly knew to a once in a lifetime show, and take a moment to express gratitude for us coming, and express sympathy and comfort, just like any caring person would. Even though it was a small gesture, it really made me view what makes a person a person differently. I now saw everyone as a human being, and not as rock stars or celebrities.  After talking to him, I realized that all people are just people.

We are all more alike than we think, even idols and superstars. You don't have to worship a celebrity or someone who is well known, they’re a person just like you. You don't have to be an excellent musician or a celebrity to be a great person, what matters is the person behind all of that. The face to face conversations, your heart and your soul, your selflessness and your willingness to not just act like a nice person by being polite to people, but actually caring for them and making them happy, and not letting your ego control you from doing what is right. because we all do know what makes each other happy. that's what determines you as a human being.

We talked for a little longer, mom sharing stories of her experiences with Warner Bros, and getting a few laughs here and there. Brian had started getting called over by some other guests he had there.
“Bye, can’t wait to see you on stage!” We yelled to him as he walked away.

Time passed as we just sat there drinking our sodas. Every now and then a band member came up to talk to us. (Sadly Paul Mccartney couldn’t meet and greet, because he didn’t want to risk getting sick.) Eventually it was time to go and watch the free show.

We walked into the stadium. He hooked us up with front row, stage right. It was his side of the stage.  We took our seats as other familiar faces from the bar filed in around us. The stadium seats to the sides of us started overflowing with people like a a bag of popcorn pouring into a bowl.

All of a sudden, the show started, and we were blown away. They were all such good musicians and such a tight band. Paul would crack a joke every now and then between songs. The whole ambiance of the arena was so joyful, it was like Beatlemania came back again for one night. I forgot about homework, studying, friends, and just enjoyed the moment as if I was 10 again.

The show went for a few hours. Live and let die came on, and so did all the fire. I could feel the heat dancing all over my skin as the band screamed:
“......Live and let die!” “BOOM!!” Another wave of heat. A loud crash and a bright flash.  My ears were ringing, but the sheer magnificence of what was happening in front of me surely made up for it. Paul pounded on the piano. Brian bashed on the bass. Rusty ripped on his guitar. “BOOM!” One final flash, and the song was over.

 My mom leaned over towards me:
“You know, all the people behind us payed 1000s of dollars for those seats, right?”
“Yeah mom, we’re so lucky, aren’t we!” I replied in the same enthusiastic tone I had talked in many times that night. After that though, I started to feel privileged, but also out of place. Maybe I was taking it for granted.

The show ended, and sadly we couldn’t stay for the encore. We drove home, babbling over all of the cool parts of the show and how close Paul Mccartney was to us. Suddenly, I started to fade out of consciousness. I was so tired, but so happy. I felt I could close my eyes and die right there. It was 1am, on a school night. I slowly fell asleep to the sound of my mom and Tom’s laughter. I thought about tonight, and I was content.

I woke up the next morning in my bed, at 8am. I got out of bed, and walked downstairs. Everyone was still asleep. I grabbed a bowl of cereal, and scooped a spoonful of the stale chewy cheerios into my mouth and sat at the table, thinking. I still had that feeling in my gut. That feeling of being out of place. That feeling of being undeserving.

It made me realize that I really was lucky, that people would throw 1000s of dollars towards those seats, and they were given to us for simply selling something to someone, or that we would get to meet such amazing people, or that we would get to sit in the Red Wings’ team booth. I never really thought things like that happened before going to that show. I only thought that stuff like that happens in movies or books, but that right there was my miracle, it was a god send. I now believe that crazy things do and can happen out of the blue.

Everyday I go about my business, I expect the unexpected. I expect life to throw anything it can at you. Never did I expect my dad to die suddenly, or never did I expect to meet people like that or go to such a once in a lifetime show like that for free. I now am more alert that anything can be taken away from me at any moment, but still faithful enough that miracle like events can occur.

You can't live life like you know the answer or outcome to everything, you have to live it like you don't know it, but know that you can come out of it alright and better than you were before. Always stay faithful. Good things happen too.

Similar books


This book has 0 comments.