The Grammy Awards. As the most prestigious music awards ceremony in the United States, it is a place where all the 'stars' of Earth gather.
Given the scale of the event, there are over 100 award categories, so most are announced in advance. However, the awards of critical significance are announced in the dazzling ceremony hall that usually comes to mind when one thinks of the Grammys.
Those crucial awards are the four known as Album of the Year, Record of the Year, Song of the Year, and Best New Artist.
While there are other miscellaneous categories, the biggest issue was always: 'Who will take home these four?' Naturally, we were nominated for all of them. Being nominated for Best New Artist might seem odd to some, but surprisingly, Enfants Terribles was a band that only debuted in 2007.
'Wow... everyone's eyes are full of stars... No, what the hell is with that guy who has a moon in his?'
The three of us were busy scanning our surroundings while sipping drinks like a bunch of country bumpkins. Honestly, I didn't have much interest in the awards; I just planned to eat some delicious food, clap for others, and head out. If we did happen to go up on stage, I intended to just spout whatever nonsense came to mind and get it over with.
"Hey... what are you guys doing instead of getting ready for the stage?"
"Stage...? What stage?"
Stage...? We were supposed to perform at the Grammy Awards? I had come wearing a shabby T-shirt and a pair of stretched-out jeans, thinking I'd just scavenge food from the killer buffet and applaud. Furthermore, Shuji and Yokishi were already wasted after knocking back a heavy amount of booze.
'Whoa... you guys aren't going to puke, are you...?'
There was no way those two, who couldn't even stand straight due to being drunk, could perform... It was a physical impossibility. If they went up on stage in that state, they wouldn't be making music; they'd be putting on a barf show.
"The people from your agency are all here too... Don't say I didn't warn you..."
"Ohh!!!! Leader-shii, our mesh-cot came too??!"
"Musclemon! She'sh not a mesh-cot, she'sh our little sister!!"
It looked like things were screwed from the start. I hadn't heard anything about Ai coming to America, though. But more important than the fact that Ai was here was the fact that I had to perform with these two who had already lost their minds.
"Wow... this is a real problem."
Our muscular, half-black drummer was barely controlling his swaying body, his face flushed as he tried to loosen up his hands. Meanwhile, our perfectionist, bald bassist was on his knees, wallowing in despair.
"Leader-shii, this is bad. I see two drumsticksh."
"L-leader... music hash to be perfect, right...? But why aren't my fingersh movin'...?"
Out of the three of us, I was the only one sober because I was still legally a minor and couldn't touch the alcohol. If the vanguard of the band—the bass and drums—were in this state, the performance was guaranteed to be a disaster.
I was going to have to carry this stage on my own. No matter how much of a mess we were, we couldn't cause a scene at an awards ceremony like this. We didn't even have a justification for it.
I tried to calm my racing heart. The current situation was far more anxiety-inducing than performing in front of 30,000 people.
"Hide? Even you get nervous?"
"Makoto-hyung, it's only natural since I have to clean up after those guys on stage all by myself."
To settle my nerves, I stretched my arms and neck, loosening up my body. In my past life as an E-rank session musician, I was used to performing with terrible bassists and drummers. Only the venue had changed.
I tried to hypnotize myself into focus. Then, Yokishi and Shuji started making a fuss, calling out to me in my self-induced trance.
"Leader-shii!! Ai is here! President Saito came with her too??!"
"Whoa!! Our little sister Ai has grown up so much while we weren't lookin'??!"
Turning my head, I saw Ai and President Saito panting as if they had just rushed back from buying hangover cures. That's when my eyes met Ai's.
'Was Ai's atmosphere always like that?'
I awkwardly waved my hand and greeted Ai. We had kept in touch via text, but this was the first time seeing her face since the incident before leaving for America.
"Shiki-ojisan!! Shuji-ojisan!! Drink this and get it together!! ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ"
Seeing that familiar, heartwarming sight helped me clear my head. Though the thumping of my heart remained as loud as ever.
Right, I could do this. I couldn't ruin the stage right in front of Ai. I had a duty to deliver the ultimate performance as her "oshi."
"Leader-shii, why are you suddenly acting all cool??"
"L-leader isn't the only one who can show off in front of Ai!! We're gonna tear up the shtage!!"
Suddenly, heat began to radiate from the previously slumped Yokishi and Shuji. Well, whatever happened, it would work out if we did our best.
"Don't spit it out!!!! ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ"
Watching Ai force-feed the hangover drinks to Shuji and Yokishi while stopping them from spitting it out, I couldn't help but smile. My reason for making music was to become a 'rock star,' but it was also to protect sights like this.
Thanks to a sense of comfort I hadn't felt since coming to America, I was able to completely erase my anxiety.
According to President Saito, Grammy performances were special. He explained that because both the artists and the audience came thoroughly prepared, the Grammy stage operated on a completely different level than a normal show.
And indeed, the preparations were impeccable. You could see where the money had been spent; fancy, sophisticated stages continued one after another, as if every industry expert had been mobilized.
"The next nominee for Song of the Year is the oddballs from the East! Enfants Terribles!!"
As the MC finished the introduction, cheers erupted from the audience. They were the first legendary group from Asia to grace the Grammys—geniuses who pioneered new genres with every track they released.
The audience waited with bated breath to see what the geniuses would show them. The winner of the award had already been decided in their minds anyway. Because of that, all eyes were purely on the performance.
"Live forever!"
Then, the blonde man who usually came out clutching a guitar began to sing with his hands clasped behind his back. It looked like a posture that might put a strain on his vocal cords, but the crowd began to marvel at that stylish, charismatic stance.
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