I checked myself in the mirror in the ornate bathroom one more time before heading to my seat in the theater. Tight black dress showing plenty of cleavage and black patent ankle boots. I looked pretty damn good; hell, if I didn't, then why did I feel like half of Broadway was staring at me? If you've got it, flaunt it, I always say. I tossed my auburn hair behind my shoulder and went back upstairs, smirking at the young girls glaring at me along the way.

"Second row center, huh? Exactly where a sweet young thing like you should be sitting," crowed the attendant. Just shut up and direct me to my seat, asshole, I thought, following him. I had arrived just in time; Daft Punk's "Da Funk" was blaring over the loudspeakers; this meant Savage Garden would be on in less than three minutes. I found my seat and had just sat down when the lights went out. I couldn't help but start screaming with the rest of the crowd. Karl came out first, then Lee, then Anna-Maria, Nicole, and Ben, then my love Daniel, and then...and then...

Darren was at the very top of the stage, singing those words to "Tears of Pearls" I knew so well. I felt myself succumbing to the most intense of mindfucks, staying on the edge of orgasm for the next hour.

The encore. I knew it well; at least from the postings I read on the internet. First they would do Joan Osbourne's "One of Us", then "This Side of Me". Only something seemed amiss when "One of Us" ended. The music continued, but Darren ran off stage.

"I knew it!" the girl next to me squealed. "He's gonna pull someone up!"

"No he won't," I corrected her. "He hasn't done that since the Indiana show, because too many women were stupid enough to blow it."

"Whatever."

But she was right. Darren returned, wearing his skintight black spandex bodysuit that showed off his muscular form so well, and he was looking around as if to make a selection. The girls screamed and raised their hands as high as they could go.

He stopped dead in front of me. And then smiled.

He wouldn't. He couldn't. He did. He was holding out his hand for me to grab.

"Shit, girlfriend!" yelled the same girl in a mixture of awe and jealousy. "Take it already!"

It was my turn to be awed. Darren was still smiling, still holding out his hand. I took it, mouthing "you're fucked". If he saw it, he was ignoring it, as the security guards were helping me up onto the stage, and the first notes of "This Side of Me" rang out of Ben's guitar. "I want to move in time with you, I want to move in rhyme with you," Darren was singing, our fingers entwined, his eyes looking into mine as if we were longtime lovers. I looked at Daniel, giving him a "what's going on" expression. He shrugged his shoulders in reply.

One time, one time, let this fantasy become real. It was dawning on me; this was Darren's fantasy, and he wanted to play it out with Daniel and me. The smartass in me was tempted to lift up my dress like that woman at the Oregon show, but I managed to resist and let him finish the song. In the dark, I want to find that door and go within.

And tonight, you will, I thought. I looked to Daniel's direction again and exchanged a smile. He knew all along.

Meet-and-greets are overrated. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. They're little more than a bunch of starry-eyed fans herded into a room like cattle, then told to line up for a brief hello and autograph, only to be dismissed right afterward. It made me think of that whole "velvet rope" concept--it looks good from the outside, only to find out once you're there, it's really no big deal.

Except when you're supposed to be there and you aren't. "I'm Daniel's girlfriend!" I nearly screamed to the radio station representative outside the club where Savage Garden was having their post-show party.

"Uh huh," he yawned. "You and every other girl out there. Get back upstairs and maybe they'll come out and sign for you afterward." Two girls nearby snickered, pointing at my outfit. I probably was making an ass of myself, but I was too pissed to give a crap. "I bet Daniel wouldn't be caught dead with a girl who looks like she should be selling blowjobs," one sneered.

I stopped in my tracks and turned around. "Excuse me, sweetheart," I cooed sarcastically, "at least he's interested in buying from me. Which is more than I can say for someone who gets her fashion ideas from watching Daria."

She attempted to go for my throat, but just then everyone's attention was diverted by a cab stopping right in front of the entrance. "It's them!" one of the girl's buddies squealed, and indeed it was. While everyone else was crowding the duo, I stood calmly by.

Daniel walked up to me. "Hey, love," he said, kissing me on the cheek.

"What was that with Darren?" I whispered, taking note of the dropped mouth of the girl who wanted to catfight.

Daniel smiled. "He knows. Oh, does he know." He turned to Darren, who looked away, pretending to be immersed in signing autographs. Yes, he did know.

"Go have a drink on me," he said in my ear, pressing a twenty in my hand. "We'll be in the room in ninety minutes. You don't want to be here anyway; meet-and-greets are so overrated."

I laughed and waved as they were led inside, not forgetting to smirk at that group of girls. The leader's mouth was still open as she faded from view.