Chapter 114: The Big Apple
Monday, March 14, 2016 (11:00 AM)
Terminal 5 rose in Hell's Kitchen like a monolith of steel and glass. Three floors of venue, capacity for thirty-five hundred people, and a history that included some of the biggest names in rock, hip-hop, and electronic music.
Michael was standing on the sidewalk, looking up with a mix of anticipation and nerves he hadn't felt since Phoenix.
"It's big," Karl said, appearing beside him.
"It's huge," Michael corrected. "Double any place we've played."
"Triple some of them."
Michael nodded without taking his eyes off the building. New York was different. It wasn't just another city on the tour. It was THE city. The place where careers were made or destroyed. The stage where you had to prove you deserved to be there.
"Sold out?" he asked.
"For a month. People are paying triple on resale just to get in."
"Good." Michael finally looked down and turned toward Karl. "Tonight has to be perfect. Not good. Perfect."
"What do you have in mind?"
"I want it to be the most complete show of the tour. Everything we've learned, everything we've tried, concentrated into one night." Michael started walking toward the venue entrance. "The chaos of Pittsburgh. The emotion of Cleveland. The intimacy of Detroit. All of it together."
"That's ambitious."
"It's New York. You can't be anything else."
---
(4:00 PM)
The interior of Terminal 5 was even more impressive than the exterior. Three levels of balconies surrounded the main floor, creating a modern amphitheater where every person would have a direct view of the stage. The sound system was arena-level, capable of filling much larger spaces without losing definition.
During soundcheck, Michael walked through every corner of the stage, testing how the space felt.
"It's intimidating," he admitted to T-Roc. "In the small venues, I can see every face. Up here, the people on the third floor are going to look like ants."
"But they'll hear you perfectly," T-Roc replied. "The system here is brutal. Every word is going to reach every corner."
Michael tested his voice with different songs, adjusting his projection to the new space. Intimate songs like "Star Shopping" would need more restraint. Rage songs like "Look At Me!" would resonate like nuclear bombs.
"I want to do something special with 'Betrayed' tonight," Michael said. "I've never highlighted it in a show. It's always there, in the middle of the setlist, but tonight I want it to be a moment."
"How?"
"I want the lights to be red. Only red. Like the venue is bleeding. And I want the bass so loud people feel it in their chest."
T-Roc nodded, taking notes. "I can do that. And 'XO TOUR Llif3'?"
"That's the closer before the encore. I want it to be the most intense moment of the night. Strobe lights, smoke, everything at maximum. And when 'All my friends are dead' hits, I want the entire venue to scream it."
"New York is going to lose its mind."
"That's the plan."
---
(7:30 PM)
The Terminal 5 dressing room was the biggest Michael had had on the entire tour. Leather couches, a full minibar, mirrors with Hollywood lights, and a window overlooking the street where the line of fans stretched for several blocks.
Michael was standing in front of that window, watching the people who had come to see him.
They were different from the fans in other cities. More diverse, more stylish, more... New York. There were kids in designer clothes mixed with others in worn hoodies. There were groups of friends taking photos and people alone with headphones on. There were signs with his song lyrics and tattoos of his name visible on arms and necks.
'Thirty-five hundred people', he thought. 'All here for me.'
It was an enormous responsibility. And Michael was ready to carry it.
His phone vibrated. A message from Amy:
"Saw it's New York tonight. Kill it. But don't kill yourself. Your voice is still in recovery. Take care of it."
Michael smiled and replied: "I will. Thanks for everything, Amy."
Another message, this one from Harris:
"ETH went up to $12.50 this morning. Your portfolio is at $5.6M. But that can wait. Tonight, focus on the show. New York is your moment."
Michael put the phone away. The numbers were impressive, but tonight they didn't matter. Tonight only one thing mattered: giving the best show of his life.
---
(8:00 PM)
The lights of Terminal 5 went out.
The roar that followed was unlike anything Michael had experienced. It wasn't just volume. It was density. Thirty-five hundred voices combined into a sound that seemed to have physical weight, that pressed against the chest and made bones vibrate.
Michael walked toward center stage in the darkness. He could feel the venue's energy pulsing around him like a living organism.
The spotlight found him.
And New York exploded.
"NEW YORK!" Michael shouted into the microphone, his voice amplified to fill every corner of the space. "FINALLY!"
The roar intensified.
"This is the city that never sleeps. The city where dreams come true or get destroyed." He paused. "Tonight, we're going to make some dreams come true. Are you ready?"
The response was deafening.
T-Roc dropped the beat for "Gucci Gang" and Terminal 5 became an earthquake.
---
(8:15 PM - 9:00 PM)
The setlist flowed with a precision that only weeks of touring could achieve. Every song had its moment, every transition was perfect, every energy shift was calculated to keep the audience exactly where Michael wanted them.
"Gucci Gang" for the initial chaos. "Boss" to maintain energy. "Look At Me!" for the first massive mosh pit. "Paris" for a pause in intensity. "Star Shopping" for the first emotional moment.
During "Star Shopping," Michael came down from the stage and walked through the central aisle of the main floor. Security surrounded him, but he barely noticed them. His eyes were fixed on the faces in the crowd, on the tears he could see glistening under the dim lights.
'Look at the sky tonight...'
'All of the stars have a reason...'
'A reason to shine...'
'A reason like mine, and I'm fallin' to pieces...'
Thirty-five hundred voices singing with him. It was the most beautiful thing he had experienced on a stage.
---
(9:15 PM)
"New York," Michael said, his voice hoarse but present. "I have a song that talks about betrayal. About the things that destroy us when we think they're helping us."
The venue lights began to change. Blues and whites faded, replaced by a deep, blood-red that tinted the entire space.
"This song is called 'Betrayed.' And tonight, you're going to feel it."
The beat entered with a bass so deep Michael could feel it vibrating in his chest. The entire venue seemed to pulse with every hit.
'Pop the trunk, I open up'
'I sold my soul for a good price'
'Outta sight, and my hoe got talent right'
'Whole squad ran through that shit, yikes'
The red lights pulsed to the rhythm of the beat, creating a hypnotic effect that made the venue seem to be breathing.
'Ay, I'm a business man, I did my business, damn'
'But I'ma bend it down and I'ma lick her up, then dick her down'
'She gon' turn around then I'ma kick her out'
'She gon' talk that shit, but say'
Michael walked across the stage like a predator, his movements calculated, his energy controlled but threatening.
'How you make it up? How you fake a love?'
'Holy son, I was the chosen one'
'I'm sippin' out the glass, she gon' kiss and tell'
'She keep my wishes well, I don't need her, well'
The chorus arrived with a force that made the entire venue jump in unison.
'Xans don't make you'
'Xans gon' take you'
'Xans gon' fake you'
'Xans gon' betray you'
The message was clear, cutting, necessary. In a city where temptations were on every corner, where drugs flowed as freely as alcohol, Michael was screaming a warning.
'Xans don't make you'
'Xans gon' take you'
'Xans gon' fake you'
'Xans gon' betray you'
The second verse continued with the same intensity, the red lights getting brighter, the bass getting deeper.
'Heart shaped kisses, I really miss my mistress'
'666, evil bitches want my mentions'
'Heart shaped kisses, I really miss my mistress'
'And it's 666, evil bitches want my mentions'
The final chorus was sung by thirty-five hundred voices, the entire venue transformed into a choir of warning against the betrayal of substances.
'Xans gon' fake you'
'Xans gon' betray you'
'Xans gon' take you'
'Xans gon' betray you'
When the song ended, the red slowly faded, leaving the venue in momentary darkness.
The silence lasted a second.
Then the applause was thunderous.
---
(9:45 PM)
"New York," Michael said, panting slightly from the effort. "One more song before the encore. And it's the most important of the night."
The strobe lights began flickering erratically. Smoke filled the stage until Michael was barely visible.
"This song talks about being on the edge. About feeling like there's nothing left. About when everyone you loved is gone."
The beat of "XO TOUR Llif3" entered with that unmistakable melody that had conquered the world. The intro floated over the venue like a warning:
'Are you alright?'
'I'm alright, I'm quite alright'
'And my money's right'
'Countin' them bands'
'All way to the top till they be fallin' over'
'Countin' them bands'
'On my way to the top till we fallin' over'
The venue went crazy. It was the song that had been in the top 10 for weeks, the one everyone knew, the one everyone had been waiting for.
'I don't really care if you cry'
'On the real, you shoulda never lied'
'Shoulda saw the way she looked me in my eyes'
'She said: Baby, I am not afraid to die'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead'
'Push me to the edge'
Michael lifted the microphone toward the crowd and thirty-five hundred voices screamed in unison:
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead'
It was cathartic. It was devastating. It was exactly what New York needed.
'Phantom that's all red, inside all white'
'Like somethin' you ride a sled down, I just want that head'
'My Brittany got mad, I'm barely her man now'
'Everybody got the same swag now'
'Watch the way that I tear it down'
'Stackin' my bands all the way to the top'
'All the way till my bands fallin' over'
'Every time that you leave your spot'
'Your girlfriend call me like: Come on over!'
'I like the way that she treat me'
'Gon' leave you, won't leave me, I call it that Casanova'
Michael jumped across the stage, his energy fueling the crowd that jumped with him. The mosh pit on the main floor was a mass of bodies in motion, arms flailing, heads shaking.
'She say I'm insane, yeah'
'I might blow my brain out'
'Xanny, help the pain, yeah'
'Please, Xanny, make it go away'
'I'm committed, not addicted, but it keep control of me'
'All the pain, now I can't feel it'
'I swear that it's slowin' me, yeah'
The second chorus arrived with an intensity that made the walls of Terminal 5 tremble.
'I don't really care if you cry'
'On the real, you shoulda never lied'
'Saw the way she looked me in my eyes'
'She said: I am not afraid to die'
'All my friends are dead'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead, yeah, ooh'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead, yeah'
'All my friends are dead, yeah'
The third verse arrived with Michael moving across the entire stage:
'That is not your swag, I swear you fake hard'
'Now these niggas wanna take my cadence'
'Rain on 'em, thunderstorm, rain on 'em'
'Medicine, lil' nigga, take some'
'Fast car, NASCAR, race on 'em'
'In the club, ain't got no ones, then we would beg them'
'Clothes from overseas, got the racks and they all C-notes'
'You is not a G though'
'Lookin' at you stackin' all your money, it all green though'
'I was countin' that and these all twenties, that's a G-roll'
The bridge arrived with Michael almost whispering, creating a brutal contrast with the chaos before:
'She say: You're the worst, you're the worst'
'I cannot die because this my universe'
And the final chorus exploded with the full force of Terminal 5:
'I don't really care if you cry'
'On the real, you shoulda never lied'
'Shoulda saw the way she looked me in my eyes'
'She said: Baby, I am not afraid to die'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead'
'Push me to the edge'
'All my friends are dead'
'Push me to the edge'
The lights cut out suddenly.
The silence lasted exactly one second.
And then New York roared like never before.
---
(10:00 PM)
The encore was "Hope" followed by "crybaby." The perfect contrast between the message of hope and the melancholy of the closing.
During "crybaby," Michael was sitting on the edge of the stage, legs dangling toward the thirty-five hundred who sang every word without his help.
'Oh, it's a lonely world, I know'
'Gon' get a lonely girl, that's for sure'
'Oh, I'm a lonely boy, she made a lonely boy, yeah, I know'
Phone lights created a sky of stars that extended across all three floors of the venue. It was the most beautiful thing Michael had seen on the entire tour.
When the song ended, he stood up slowly.
"New York," he said, his voice barely a whisper after two hours of show. "You are different. You are special. You are the reason I do this."
He took a deep bow.
"Thank you for believing in me when nobody else did. Thank you for singing my songs when I couldn't sing them. Thank you for being my family when I lost mine."
Tears ran down his face, but he didn't care.
"I love you, New York. Forever."
The applause that followed lasted ten minutes.
Michael absorbed it all, recording every second in his memory.
New York had been conquered.
And he would never be the same.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Thanks for reading!
You can support with Power Stones if you're enjoying the fic.
If you want to read 20+ advanced chapters you can visit my Patreon page: Patreon / iLikeeMikee.
https://mikelibrary.com/novels