The lights turn blue as he looks at me.
I walk up the small stairs,
Holding her hand for grip.
The light hits my ponytail in a pretty way.
The crowd of people make me happy.
It means we must’ve done something right.
He was scared in April.
He didn’t hear back.
He didn’t get the gig.
And then, he did.
I didn’t know that at the time.
The night of my life.