I never thought I'd be a sappy girlfriend. I definitely never pictured myself dating someone else in the industry, especially someone with a massive teenage fan base. But somehow I am that girl, and I am in that position. The curveballs life can throw are interesting. You can say one thing and swear to the Heavens your opinion won't change, but someone or something can suddenly enter your life and break that vow.

For me, it was Kristian. It's strange considering I never thought much of him when we first met. He's clearly adorable and has an astounding voice, but I wasn't romantically drawn to him. The more we became acquainted, the more I fell; his heart and exuberance won me over. Kristian consistently gave me positive vibes and made me laugh when I was around him. He just got me. That's why we clicked so well.

Now I'm being a pathetic loser. An hour until I hit the stage, and what am I doing? Pining over the photo Kristian sent ten minutes ago—a selfie of him at Charles de Gaulle wearing my ring around his neck with the text "always close to my heart, never taking this off ▲." I had no clue that image and his words could affect me like this, but my heart melts from them.

"If only his schedule hadn't changed last minute," I mutter as I text him back saying how much it suits him. "He could have stayed for the show if he didn't have to return to stupid Moscow. What's so important there he has to fly last minute? His label's in fucking Bulgaria!"

"Am I hearing correctly, or is Parisa Nicchi really lovesick over Kristian Kostov?" Giovanna's voice questions from thin air. "L'amore si muove!" (Love moves!)

I roll my eyes as she places an arm around my shoulders. Giovanna's already smug about our relationship; there's no need for this behavior.

"You're mixing up your Eurovision contestants," I tease, pulling my phone away from her periphery. "I'm pretty sure that's an Il Volo song."

"Par, they sang 'Grande Amore' at Eur—hey! Don't change the subject and divert your boyfriend from me!"

"Well, you're always annoying about it. You won, Gi. I'm actually dating Kristian."

Giovanna sighs. A simple twist of my shoulder is all it takes for us to be vis-à-vis. Concern paints delicate, thin lines on her forehead and muddies her eyes, making them the color of algae-infested water rather than their usual ocean. Something about her gaze doesn't sit well with me. She's usually optimistic about anything regarding Kristian. What's her deal?

"Look, I know I pushed him on you," she guiltily commences. "I shouldn't have done that. You don't have to be with him if you d—"

"I really, really like him!" I sob into her arms. I would be emotional before a show. "He was supposed to stay and watch me tonight, Gi! But nooooo! Something came up and he's flying back to Moscow right now. It sucks! It fucking sucks!"

"Shh! It's okay, Par," she says in hushed tones, comfortingly patting my back. "You'll see him again. You'll see him soon. There's always texting and social media. I-I didn't know you care about him this much. I'm sorry."

Giovanna wipes my tears away and sits us down. I know she's trying to console me, but she doesn't understand. She doesn't know someone sent me warning messages yesterday—the exact same ones from the night before tour started. She doesn't know how terribly I'm dreading tonight's show or the instinct I have about an incoming disaster. I didn't even tell Kristian because I know he'd rather miss his flight and deal with those consequences than see me upset. That's why I gave him my ring—now he has something to remember me.

"I jus—I knew what I was getting into," I explain. I run a hand through my hair and groan. It needs to be sorted before show time. "We're in the same industry, and that requires distance. I get that. I just never thought I'd like him this much. You know, I suppressed my feelings for him near the end of Eurovision when deep down..."

"You always had a thing for Kristian?" she guesses. I reply with a nod. "Everyone hyped you two because they saw the chemistry between you almost instantly. I know you and you didn't want to prove everyone right. You played it cool to satisfy your own ego, but you're together now. This is all new for you too. It's okay to feel like this. I mean, you're not exactly a C-lister, Parisa. You're up there with Demi, Ariana, and Miley."

"I gave him my ring, too. You know, the one Mom and Dad gave me when I won Eurovision?"

Giovanna's eyes expand to moon-sized proportions. For proof, I show her the picture he sent. He mood instantly switches from "concerned older sister" to "beaming with joy." There's the cheeky Gi I know!

"That's so cute! You're always close to his heart now. Awwww!" she gushes. Giovanna takes control of my phone and attempts to FaceTime him. "Tijana told me Kristian's flight is delayed. You have 45 minutes before show starts, kid. Let him cheer you up."

I smile weakly at her, and Giovanna leaves me alone. I exhale deeply and stare at the screen, anxiously anticipating a connection. Am I frightened? Yes. Am I feeling better knowing that I'll hear his voice one more time? Yes. Emotions are the weirdest things ever.

When that familiar mop of black hair appears on the screen, my heart skips a beat. The toothy grin on Kristian's face automatically calms my nerves. Behind black rims, nut brown eyes dance as they blink back at me, making me smile. Seeing my ring hanging around his neck...I can't even.

"Shouldn't you be in the sky right now?" I question.

"Hi to you too!" he laughs. "My flight is delayed by two hours. Should you be talking to me right now. I am not complaining, but you have a show soon."

"I have 45 minutes; that's plenty of time. I just wanted to hear your voice one last time before I take the stage. I also wanted to see you wear my ring for real. You pull it off well, too!"

Kristian blushes and pushes his hair back. He seem agitated for some reason. He fidgets with the ring and looks around as if he's scared of someone eavesdropping. Maybe he has harrowing thoughts swimming through his mind too. The boy can't even look me in the eye now!

"Are you okay?" I ask. "Wh-was it something I said or did?"

"No! Parisa, it is not you," he assures me. Kristian finally looks at me. He looks beat now. "I am just tired. That is all. Nothing is your fault."

"You barely sleep, Kostov. Get some sleep on the plane for me. One of us has to be well-rested. Might as well be you. My sleep schedule's always messed up when I tour."

"It will be hard, but I will try for you. How are you feeling? Nervous?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "But I'm alright. There's just a lot on my mind. Right now, I just wish you were here t—"

A flight is called over the PA; Kristian grumbles. Again, he runs his fingers through his hair. He does that so often, I swear it's his worst habit.

"That is my flight. I have to leave," he somberly says. I just want to reach out and hug him because he sounds so emotional!

"Right...your plane. You should go, Kristian."

I don't want to say goodbye. At least, not yet. I don't want Kristian to leave me either. I want our call to continue so his face and accent can ease my mind. I want his voice to serenade me so I know this is real. I sound crazy, but I have to take what I can get before it's too late.

"Before you go, can you sing for me?" I request, batting my lashes for added effect. "I know I sound ridiculous and needy, but I just want a little parting gift before..."

"You do not have to explain. Of course I will! Anything for you, Par."

He's NEVER called me Par before. Gosh, I'm getting flustered! Giovanna calls me that nickname all the time, but it's different when he says it. Maybe it's the Eastern European accent versus Italian that gets to me.

Seconds later, Kristian dives into the "Beautiful Mess" chorus. The way he emotes the lyrics is so melancholy, tears stream down my face. He's always sung the song to perfection, but never like this. He's singing once more, but with feeling. He means every single word like he's really fighting for this person—me.

"Parisa, d-do not cry. I'm sorry," he apologizes once he's done singing.

"No, it's okay. That was just—I felt it. It was pure and it was beautiful," I say, wiping away tears. "Now go! Go home and get some rest for me!"

"And you...have fun tonight. I will be waiting to hear how it goes."

"I'll give you the full deets," I chuckle. "Kristian, I—be safe, okay? I really care about you and I just don't want anything bad to happen. It'd break my heart if something does and I'm not there."

"You do not have to worry. I will be fine," he promises. "And so will you. I know how you have been feeling. Giovanna told me about those messages. They mean nothing, Par. They are just empty words that mean nothing! I hate to see you so sad; it makes me sad when you are sad. Please do not think about that. I—"

Tijana says something in the background that's in Bulgarian or Russian—I can't tell. Kristian swiftly replies to her and pouts.

"I have to leave now," he states. I can't help the fresh tears rolling down my cheeks as he holds up my ring. "I have this, so I always have you. You mean so much to me, Par. I—you mean the world. I will be waiting for you in Moscow, okay? I promise. обичам те." (I love you)

Before I can utter a word, Kristian blows me a kiss and ends the call. I stare at the screen, broken and emotional. I think he just said he loves me in Bulgarian...shit. I can't let Kristian down tonight—not after this. He wouldn't want me to be a nervous wreck minutes before my own concert, and it wouldn't be fair to everyone who's coming too.

It should be easy for me to perform tonight. My stage persona is essentially me, but a better version of myself. I'm fearless and more confident when I'm on stage; the stage is my world. I can't let that change just because I sense danger and selfishly want Kristian here for moral support. I need to shove that aside and fake happiness until I believe it.

@ParisaNicchi: Paris c'est presque l'heure! Faisons la fête ce soir comme si c'était notre dernière nuit sur terre! #ABTParis 

(Paris it's almost time. Let's party like it's our last night on earth!)

♫                  ♫                    ♫  

The crowd erupts after I finish "Un'ultima volta,' my encore song. Although I can't see everyone's faces, I can feel their energy. Tonight, the people at Accorhotels Arena brought their A-game and sang their hearts out. I'm not saying they beat my fellow Italians, but there's no denying the electric in here tonight. This show was spectacular!

As the chorus of cheers and applause continue, my band, the dancers, and I take our bow. Looking out into the sea of people, I feel so much love and joy. My ears are ringing, but my heart is also full. We snap a photo with a crowd to commemorate the night, and I instantly post it on Instagram.

ParisaNicchi: Paris je t'aime! Merci pour m'inviter à votre belle ville. À bientôt! xx (I love you Paris! Thanks for inviting me to your beautiful city. See you later!)

After everyone leaves the stage, I remain and face the audience. Ah, my beautiful French Parisa Pack! The microphone in my hand is slippery because I'm sweaty, but I grasp it tightly.

"Before everyone leaves, I just want to say something," I announce. "Can you guys be quiet for a sec and hear me out? It won't take long. I promise it won't."

The noise slowly, but surely dissipates. Within seconds, it's so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. I sit on the edge of the stage, breathe in deeply, and continue.

"I just want to thank you all for coming out here tonight and spending these last two hours with me. You didn't have to, but you chose to do that. I'm so honored and thankful for you. I seriously can't thank you enough for the love and support you've given me. It doesn't matter if you were with me from the beginning in my Youtube days or if you discovered me on Eurovision two years ago—you're all equally amazing.

"Nobody knows when their last day will be. So much evil has happened over the past year alone, but you can't let that dim your light. If anything, that should motivate you to shine brighter, love more, and accept more. If we stay united like this, the stars will continue to shine for you even on the darkest of nights.

"Thank you. Merci pour m'accepter pour moi. Merci pour m'écouter. Merci pour—" (Thanks for accepting me for me. Thanks for listening. Thanks for)

The arena suddenly turns pitch black and a sea of flashlights periodically appear. I stay where I'm seated, frozen and unsure of what to do next. Thinking it's just a power outage, I close my eyes and inhale deeply.

Seconds later, ear-splitting screams shatter through the roof, vibrating off the walls. My eyes remain closed and I hope for the best, praying that everything will be okay, but I sense chaos and fear in the air. What if this isn't just a power outage? What if this is some Cristine Daaé/Erik crap someone's trying to pull? What if this means I'll never see Kristian, my parents, or Gi again? What i—

BOOM!

Everything happens so fast, there's no time to process the end. Bright, blinding lights follow the blast, causing an explosion of debris to soar. My body is harshly slammed onto the floor, and my head cracks on the side of a seat. Shards of glass, metal, and whatever else was onstage fly in every direction, ultimately showering the ground with small, sharp objects. High-velocity shock waves enter my body, weakening my tissues and organs.

The pain is excruciating and smoke swiftly depletes my oxygen levels, but it doesn't last for more than ten seconds. In a moment, life as I know it disappears. Blood ceases flowing, Armageddon runs through my veins, and my heart stops beating.

A/N:

Just so everyone's clear, Kristian IS NOT dead. He's safely on a plane to Moscow. This isn't the end of him here. And I know the title of this chapter is an MCR song.

So...what's everyone thinking? Are you shocked Parisa died in this chapter or did you see it coming? I love you, and I am sending out hugs if you need them! xx

Special shout out to fluuoride and A_Lipas for being so supportive and nice about this story!