The Pinned-Up Hair of America’s Sweetheart Star

As Sapphire Rain belted her final note, the crowd’s roar surged like a tidal wave. She soaked in the applause, high on the electric buzz of the final concert of her longest ever tour. She clung to that addictive high until the lights faded and the night collapsed around her. Her gilded cage felt as beautiful and restrictive as ever. America’s sweetheart star clung to the euphoria of performing as it drained from her, like champagne going flat. Backstage, she stared at the photos from the night, and the girl staring back felt like a stranger. That was Sapphire Rain, a pop princess. She was gorgeous, but not the real her, not Sapph. The girl in those photos didn’t really exist, she was just a fantasy. Sweaty and spent, she thanked her crew and slipped away to deglam and decompress. Her jaw was aching from smiling for so long. Her heart was still racing from adrenaline high of the night, but her stomach was full of anxiety and dread because it was all built on a lie. As she entered her dressing room, she breathed in the atmosphere of her temporary sanctuary. She inhaled the lavender scent, sighed deeply, and let her mask fall. All she wanted was to get out of her costume and sleep, but that rest was difficult to achieve. She peeled off her lashes, the glue tugging at her lids felt like painful, tiny reminders of everything she wasn’t. As she undid her makeup, she felt her mask lift even more. She tugged the pins from her navy blue waves, wincing as one snagged. The ache in her scalp mirrored the constant pit of tension in her stomach. Her mind naturally drifted to thoughts of her best friend, Mara. Just her best friend to the rest of the world, but so much more than that to her. Mara always smelled sweetly of lavender. Mara had been gone for months, on a research expedition deep in the Arctic with barely enough signal to send voice notes. But tomorrow, she’d return. They’d timed it perfectly: the end of the tour with the end of the expedition. They would finally see each other again. Sapph dreamt of holding her. Her wildflower. But first, she had to get through the rest of the night. It's not that she didn’t enjoy her fame and fortune, but sometimes, it became difficult to live a lie—to manage the brand version of herself rather than be her real self. A sharp knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. Her breath caught. For a moment, she considered ducking into the bathroom, hiding and pretending she wasn’t here. But this was the last concert. The finale. The one with the biggest headlines needed a proper send-off. With a sigh, she crossed the room and buzzed her assistant in, already bracing for whatever came next. “Hey Sapph, ten minutes ‘til the papwalk. He’s here and as ready as ever,” said her assistant. Sapphire gave her thanks and sighed with annoyance at the same old routine. ‘He’ was her latest PR contract boyfriend. Nothing real, and usually quite unpleasant, but thankfully this latest one was also in hiding, from the world, and unusually kind. She wiped away the stage version of herself, only to replace it with another, slipping into the pre-approved papwalk makeup and clothes like armor, ready for another performance. She slowly built her mask back up. Thankfully, she did really enjoy fashion and makeup, but in a way that was almost playing pretend, separate from who she really was, but still fun. She reluctantly left her dressing room and met up with Jude, her ‘boyfriend’. They started walking hand-in-hand and shifting into their characters ahead of the papwalk. While exhausting, thankfully, she’s an excellent actress. They both rolled their eyes at each other before sighing and settling into their assigned roles. She could feel herself start to dissociate, though. This was always the most difficult part, being with him. They rolled their eyes at each other before slipping into character. Jude leaned in as they walked, murmuring, “Ready for the second show, Sapph?” She gave him a weary look, but he grinned and adjusted the collar of her coat with gentle care. It was not a fun performance, but he was always kind. That helped. A little. It was a fake romance, but a real friendship based on mutual survival. Her least favorite part was the kiss. But they must always kiss. They’ve got to sell it, you know how it is. As they walked from the stadium exit, security closely trailing them, they looked as in love and high as ever. Right before getting into her limo, they kissed. She smiled brightly and waved at everyone until she got into the car, then let out an exaggerated gag. Jude followed afterwards and told her to knock it off and not blow the charade. But then they both stifled a giggle and started to breathe again. The drive back to the hotel was grounding - she always enjoyed the motion of a car. She found it relaxing. It helped her pretend she was somewhere else, in a world where they could all understand her. The rest of the evening was quite a blur, and she felt relief again only when she collapsed on her hotel bed. Only in the silence of her suite did she feel real again - if only for a few hours. As she drifted off, she dreamed of lavender fields, purple fog, soft hands, and her wildflower’s kisses.