Fangirl Read Online Free PDF Page B

out.”
    Peter then unrolled a purple yoga mat and placed it on the cement floor. He sat on the mat and lay on his back. He lowered his eyelids across his eyes as if they were blankets. He placed his arms at his side, tilted his palms up, and inhaled through his nose, filling his lungs with so much air his chest stretched his T-shirt, then released it with a forceful, smooth exhale. He could feel the muscles around his eyes relax and the pinching in his gut dissipate. His head tingled as a result of the burst of oxygen into his system. Peter repeated the deep breathing for several minutes, until every muscle in his body had relaxed and his mind was still.
    Ten minutes later, Peter, his breathing so subtle his chest barely rose, slowly wiggled his fingers, then his toes, then gently rolled onto his left side and took a final deep breath. Centered. Focused. Ready.
    Knowing that thousands of fans awaited him, Peter stood up, kissed his forefinger, and touched the picture of his mom standing on the front porch of their old house in Tennessee. “Okay, gotta go, Mom. Love you.”
    Peter pulled the pictures down from the mirror and placed them inside the baggie, zipped it tight, and stuffed it back inside the envelope.
    â€œYo, Peter,” Big Jim shouted through the door. “We ready?”
    Peter had one last ritual to perform before taking the stage.
    He picked up his phone.
    @PeterMaxxNow hey, Bakersfield. I can hear ya guys. Are we ready to do this?!
    Fascinating what a message 140 characters or less could instantly do to a crowd of anxious fans. Every inch of the arena floor vibrated, even in the dressing room.
    He looked in the mirror as the makeup lady dabbed some antishine powder on his forehead. The chorus of chanting fans echoed down the hall to his dressing room.
    That sound never got old. It reminded him why all those morning wake-up calls and dog-and-pony radio station and shopping mall appearances were ultimately worth it. That sound also reminded him of his childhood, when the dream to become the world’s next big singer-songwriter began.
    PETER! PETER! PETER!

5
    Write a great song, someone will record it. Market a great song, someone will buy it. But sing a great song, and someone will feel it.
    As Peter stood under the bright lights at his silver-bedazzled microphone for the next two hours singing straight from his heart to the hearts of his fans, Josie was definitely feeling Peter Maxx.
    Shortly after eight o’clock, when a guitar-carrying Peter finally walked onstage to eardrum-piercing screeching, Josie’s first thought was that a bicep flex and stubble of chin hair never looked so hot. Her second thought: there was nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than right there. While other fans captured him on video with their phones, Josie closed her eyes and soaked in the moment.
    She sang along to every song, having memorized the lyrics long ago, her voice growing hoarse. Sweat dripped down her cheeks. At one point, as Peter walked down the stage’s front catwalk jutting into the crowd, Peter looked in her direction and cracked a smile.
    Did he just look at me, Ash?
    I think so.
    Get out.
    No, for realz!
    #ICouldDie.

6
    Lesson #1 of pop superstardom: you can’t please everyone.
    One fan weighed in with a YouTube video of Peter and his girlfriend doing a duet near the end of the Bakersfield show:
    THERE’S ROMANCE AND THEN THERE’S SHOWMANCE. CLICK ON THIS VIDEO AND SEE THAT PHONY-BALONEY SANDY JONES (THE FAKE GF OF PETER MAXX) PERFORMING A DUET LAST NIGHT IN BAKERSFIELD. WARNING: YOU MAY WANT TO HAVE A BARF BAG HANDY !
    Yes, that Sandy Jones: the blondest, perkiest member of the G Girls, the opening act for Peter’s tour. Peter and Sandy (or “Pandy,” as fan sites cheekily call them) began dating when G Girls made a guest appearance on Peter’s hit TV show, For Pete’s Sake.
    The blogs charted the rise of Pandy in great detail. Speculation