I woke up earlier than anticipated—it's 5 AM. Nearby roosters alert the countryside that daytime has now arrived, and other obnoxious farm animals make themselves known in their own manner. I stretch my arms and groan, annoyed by the extremely early wake up call. I've only had a couple hours in no thanks to them. My alarm isn't even set until nine!

"Stupid farm animals and their stupid crack of dawn cries," I grumpily mutter as I reach for my phone on the nightstand. "Couldn't they be considerate today? Sheesh! The nerve of them to do this on my day!"

I only slept for two hours because I couldn't get those messages out of my head. How can one sentence be so damning and vague? I still don't know if they were sent and graffitied as a warning or threat. It bothered me so much, I nearly had a mental breakdown before I finally slept. The stressors of tonight simply wasn't enough to psyche me out.

Apparently I'm not the only one who's still awake. Kristian just sent me a text a few minutes ago about some instinct of his. I wonder if he can secretly read my mind? I mean, the message is about my tour and I have been freaking out over it. He told me something doesn't feel right and I might be in trouble. Of course I need to send him a picture of Giovanna's car and screenshoot those messages!

KRISTIAN: This is not good. I think you need to be more careful. I will see you in Paris.

ME: Wait. Paris? Why Paris? You don't have to see me earlier just because you're concerned. I appreciate the sentiment, but it's not necessary, Kris. It's okay.

KRISTIAN: We will be in Paris at the same time. I have a show there the day after yours. I can come early so we can have our date.

There's no arguing with that. Giovanna will be over the moon when I tell her about this, no doubt. So I tell him I'm down for the Paris. What's a better first date setting than the city of romance, anyways? That's one less problem to worry over. I can't say the same for everything else. I'll just see what happens as the day progresses.

♫                                ♫                                ♫  

PalaLottomatica stands before me like an Ancient Roman ruin with a winding labyrinth separating me from my treasure. It's ridiculous how those messages affected me! I think anyone in my position would react the same. The unknown isn't the only issue looming over my head; Kristiain's premonition is slowly creeping into my thought as well.

Don't think, Parisa! Stop psyching yourself out, I tell myself as someone ushers me inside. You're better than that. Stop freaking out over nothing! You're fine. Kristian could be wrong. Like Mika said, relax, take it easy. Enjoy today. You have family coming from Iran to see you perform tonight. You should be pumped about that! Both sides haven't really seen each other much after you were born. At least be positive about that, Parisa.

Funny how even a mental pep talk can sway the harrowing thoughts away. I follow whoever is leading me through the corridors with my head hung low and gaze toe the floor, avoiding everyone in sight as my mind swims with sirens. Although I hear voices surrounding me, calling my name and saying a number of other things, every word goes one ear and out the other.

We finally reach my dressing room, where I'm nearly left alone. Giovanna comfortably sits on the big red sofa munching on the zoolbia I requested on MY rider. Baklava and halva are also on the table—¼ of the baklava is gone.

"I thought you were on a no carbs and sugar diet," I note as I grab a baklava and pop it in my mouth. I collapse into the empty seat beside her and let the delicious pastry consume my taste buds.

"Is it my fault you always request Persian sweets on your rider?" she argues. "No. It's yours. Besides, I'm Italian. What kind of Italian bans carbs and sugar when pasta and gelato exist? Anyone who does that might as well renounce their Italian claim."

She has a point. I don't know how some Americans can completely eliminate carbs from their meals when your body needs them. Carbohydrates are one of the most important sources of energy. It's not an essential energy source for humans, but there are still grave consequences for an inadequate intake of carbs. To completely rid one's body of them is madness!

I don't have anything until the meet and greets and soundcheck in a couple hours, so I ease into my seat and eat more. They're not the best snacks nutritionally, but that's basically what catering is for. My team made sure to hire someone who won't succumb to my charm if I want anything remotely unhealthy. The items on my rider are enough for them.

"Something's wrong," Giovanna suddenly says. "You're eating too much. You eat a lot because of your fast metabolism, but this is ridiculous, Par! You're stuffing your face with baklava and not stopping. Cosa c'è di sbagliato?" (What's wrong?)

My biggest pet peeve with Gi is how easily she can read me. I'm an open book because next to my parents, she knows me the best. The look on her face is unwavering; she's determined to crack me. I have no choice but to fess up. After pulling up my texts with Kristian, I hand her my phone.

"Read the last five messages," I firmly instruct. "No more than that. It's enough inf—"

"A Parisian date. Ooh la la!" she squeals, her eyes lighting up like sparkly turquoises. She clearly didn't follow instructions if that's what she took from our convo. "Awww, he's worried about you. How cute!"

"You're ridiculous," I scoff. I fold my arms over my chest and glare. "There's a more serious matter at hand, and it's not my love life."

"Oh, come on! I'm trying to be lighthearted here! Parisa, you're thinking about this too much. I promise nothing bad will happen. You just need to relax and stop thinking about the 'what ifs.' Think about something more positive like your family and fans who are seeing you tonight. I don't want to see you start this tour with that mindset. Have y—"

Giovanna continues her lecture while I zone her out and drink some water. Words spill from her mouth, yet they're not hitting me like they should. From what I've heard, only three words stuck out: family and fans. East and West unite for my sake, and my Italian fans deserve the best from me. Giovanna is saying important stuff, but they don't require immediate attention like my family and fans.

"...in Paris. Totally making room for your date," she continues.

I wish she'd lay off the Kristian thing for once and focus on the real dilemma. We can figure that out when I'm actually in France. Right now, the main concern is complete safety on every parameter of this arena. I need reassurance that security is the strictest possible and we're covered by at least a two mile radius.

I might be paranoid, but I'm cautious for everyone's benefit.

"I have a suggestion," I announce once she's finally done speaking. "How about I prepare for soundcheck and the meet and greets? I'm hardly dressed to meet fans right now. I don't think sweats will cut it. I kinda slept in this last night."

Giovanna scans my outfit. The disgust on her face says it all—I definitely need something better to wear. Imaging paying around 100 euros for soundcheck and a picture with one of your favorite singers, only to see them dressed like a slob. I've worn better casual outfits than this.

"Fine! Change, comb your hair, and grab some real lunch from the kitchen," she huffs. "You're lucky nobody caught you coming in like this. God, the fashion and celebrity blogs would tear you apart if they saw you right now! I can't believe you made no effort to change before you left your grandparents' house!"

"Couldn't be bothered. Now can you please leave me in peace?"

Giovanna grabs a few halvas and sticks her tongue out before finally leaving. I wait a few seconds, then bolt to the vanity chair.

I don't look that bad in my opinion. I can definitely do with a good brushing since my hair is a tangled mess. It looks like a big, black, twiggy bird nest! Overall, I'm fine. I had the decency to at least wash my face before I left, so that's clean. All I need is a little touch up, and I'm good to go.

I let my shuffle play on, beginning with Black Eyed Peas' "Where is the Love." Such an oldie, but a clear goodie! In true Parisa Nicchi fashion, I sing every lyric as I change into an outfit I brought from the house: black skinny jeans and a comfortable cotton candy off the shoulder tee. It's hard to sit still and make myself worthy of human interaction when every song that plays is a bop. From BEP to Lights and Francesco Gabbani, I can't stop dancing!

The upbeat music shifts my mood instantaneously, pushing aside any and all threatening thoughts into a naughty corner. My little dance party continues until the last bit of foundation is applied. Of all the songs on my phone, why does it have to be HIS song? I've heard "Beautiful Mess" countless times since its release; of course I instantly recognize the intro.

Nobody's here. I'm all alone. What harm is there in using my microphone brush and belting out the song like I usually do? Nobody, especially Gi, can humiliate me. I'm just gonna go for it. I ALWAYS sing along when this song comes up! I'd be doing myself and Kristian a disservice if I don't sing.

"And we don't have a thing to lose. No matter what you say or do, I don't want nothing more. Our love is untouchable," I belt into the brush at the top of my lungs, harmonizing with Kristian's beautiful vocal.

I pour my heart and soul into this performance like I'm singing for a real audience. I become so wrapped up in the song and my singing that I don't notice the army of intruders entering the room. I swear my face is bright red once the song finishes and I realize Giovanna and my family are right there.

"How much of that did you see?" I question, aiming at my lovely manager whose phone is out. "And did you record it?"

"The last half," she responds with a cheeky wink. "It's on Instagram right now. I tagged Krist—"

Horrified, I grab my phone to check Instagram. And there it is at the top of my feed. Why must she torture me like this? I don't poke fun at her love life! The video captures me singing the last thirty seconds with the caption:

giovannaferragni: A sneak of ParisaNicchi warming up her vocals for tonight's show. Sorry kristian_kostov_official I think she sings it better than you.

If that's not enough to embarrass me, then the comments make up for it. I'm more surprised at the number of people who ship us than don't. Krisa isn't a thing yet, and we're already mostly approved by his fans. Kristian's re-gram and added comment makes me blush more, and it's only the triangle and heart eyes emojis!

"If he sings one of your songs, everyone will be more suspicious," she notes. She's glowing as she looks at my relatives. In rapid Italian, she says, "Parisa and Kristian will be great together. I think you'll like them as a couple. They're so cute! You should have seen them at Eurovision this year!"

I turn to my parents for comfort, but they seem to approve just as much as Gi. She's wrangling my parents and grandparents to her side, praising Kristian and whatnot, and they're actually buying it! I know he's a great guy, but can't she let this fall naturally? Gi is honestly making him appear annoying now because she keeps bringing him up. I wonder if he's receiving the same horrid treatment from his team...

"I should head out," I announce to nobody in particular. "I have soundcheck in a few. I should be backstage by now."

Everyone raises their gazes and nods. I can't believe this! How is Giovanna holding this much power over my family? Ugh, I'm absolutely fuming!

Nobody acknowledges me as I stomp out the door. Great. This is just what I need on the most important day of my life. Everything is backfiring and there's nothing I can do to make it all stop. It doesn't seem like anyone really cares now—about me, anyways.

Why should you stay mute about your thoughts and opinions? I think, navigating the corridors and shooting anyone I see a warm smile. They can try to lighten the mood, but that doesn't change what happened yesterday or what Kristian texted. Even if you try, no one will listen.

"...nobody but Kristian. He'll listen to me. He'll help me out-psych myself out. But now, you have people to see. Soundcheck time!"

♫                                 ♫                                 ♫  

The entire soundcheck and meet and greet experience happened in such a whirlwind, I thought I dreamt it. I probably shouldn't say this because I currently live in America, but my Italian fans are the best. There's nothing like the energy of my fellow Italians, and they always treat me with the utmost kindness and love. My win a couple years ago might have played a factor...I feel wholeheartedly accepted here thanks to them!

During the Q & A session, a few girls tried to get me to spill the beans on Kristian. I played it cool and pretended like it was no biggie; they so didn't buy my "we're just friends" response. I wouldn't be surprised if they return home and analyze every interview I've had with him! Someone also asked if I'd ever consider moving to Rome since it's my second home. Maybe someday, just not now. There was one question that threw me off for a second because a little girl asked it.

Are you afraid of anything?

"The world we live in is such a terrifying place," I answered (in Italian, of course). "People think it's okay to create a division based on fear—politics, religion, race. I'm afraid of the world reversing its progress for the sake of some scared, rich white men who hold immense power. I'm afraid of people threatening others and turning their fear into anger. It's not the kind of world I want to live in—it's not the world I'd want to raise my children in.

"It's terrifying, but our generation and the generation after us is better than that. We know the power of unity, compassion, and love. We know how strong the world will become when bridges are burned, walls torn down, and everyone can accept and embrace others for who they are. I see so many different people before me already. You guys are beautifully diverse and I'm so honored my music can reach out to such a broad audience. You're setting a great example by showing your strength and unity. It'll grow tonight when everyone else arrives.

"My family—my entire family will be here tonight. It's a beautiful thing. We can never get both sides together but tonight, they will all be here for me. My music united my family. So long as music exists and we continue to love each other, everything that scares me won't and can't win because we won't allow it!"

I sounded so confident and sure of myself in that speech. Why don't I feel that way now? Why am I freaking out an hour before showtime when I should be relaxing? I wonder as I head to my dressing room.

Because I was stupid enough to read through those messages again. I thought it'd help. If you see something enough times, you eventually grow numb towards it. I should have used a different tactic. I should have actually texted Kristian about this like I said I would.

Now I have tour a proporio rischio engraved in my mind. Whenever I shut my eyes, I see that phrase in bright pink letters. It's also not helpful that I have images of the Manchester attack in my head too.

Maybe my fans can help me out. They always know how to make me feel better. Mayb I need reassurance from them to ward evil away.

@ParisaNicchi: In true Parisa nature, I'm flipping out an hour before showtime. Roma ti vedi presto! #ABTRoma (Rome see you soon)

Within seconds, love pours in. I knew they'd be helpful! My heart warms from the replies saying I'll be amazing. I'm biased, but my Parisa Pack always know what to say to lift my spirits. Kristian even sends me a tweet wishing me luck in Italian! I reply back, poking fun at his Italian and offering him lessons. Yeah, I should have worded that differently. Their interpretation does NOT imply actual Italian lessons, but something more suggestive.

When I reach my dressing room and open the door, I can't help but smile widely. After the meet and greets, I spent time with my family and had dinner with them. The proud look on their faces when they saw me and the fruitful conversation we had nearly made up for all the times they refused to be in the same location. The gorgeous flowers on the vanity table—violets to symbolize Italy, tulips for Iran, and red roses for both—complete the peace treaty. Who says music can't bring people together?

My phone is still blaring from notifications when I set it down to smell the flowers. I ignore it to inhale the intoxicating floral scents, planting my nose smack dab in the middle of the bouquet. If this is what Heaven smells like, take me there!

But as they say, all that glitters isn't gold. I trip over a chair leg as I jump back, falling onto the floor. Fear washes over me and I can feel color drain away. No matter how many times I blink or how hard I rub my eyes, I can't imagine it away. It's actually there.

Now, with a half hour before I hit the stage, I'm screwed. There's no way this image can leave my mind when it's so vivid. I don't think the crowd can push it away either.

In alternating pink and black lipstick is the sentence that haunted my sleep last night. In large and neat letters, someone painted TOUR A PROPORIO RISCHIO.

I've been in major paranoid mode since that first message yesterday. Am I really going crazy or this threat a huge ploy to shut me down? 

And Gi says I need to stop psyching myself out because it's not that serious. Pfft! Wait till she sees this.

A/N:

Still having trouble writing the next AFYCSO chapter, so I thought I'd write this. Again, I'd like to thank you guys so much for the 100 reads. You have no clue how chuffed I am about that. It's not much, but it means so much. You guys are the real MVPs.

What are your thoughts on this chapter? What do you think will happen next?

 It's not time yet since I live in the States, but Eid Mubarak to all my fellow Muslims!! xx