Page 146 of Wild Eyes
I literally feel like I can’t move. The only thing that gets me up out of my seat is West shooting up to cheer with abandon and pulling me into the strongest, happiest hug. “You did it. You fucking did it. I’m so proud of you,” he shouts in my ear over the thunderous applause surrounding us.
We both turn when there’s a boisterous, “That’s my girl,” shouted from several rows back.
My fucking dad.
West’s muscles tense as he glares back, and I tap him with my hand. “Don’t give him the satisfaction. He’s pathetic, and everyone is about to know it.”
With that, I kiss my man, hold my head up high, and make my way to the stage.
Hugs and thank-yous are exchanged as I take the trophy in my hand. The applause stops when I finally let out a heavy sigh at the podium.
“Wow, this…” I look around the auditorium, soaking in this moment. Wanting to commit it to memory. Hoping I’ll remember it clearly enough to tell West’s and my children one day. “This is an incredible honor. This has been a dream of minesince I was a little girl. And I don’t mean just winning an award because I’ve done that in the past. I mean winning an award for something I am incredibly proud of because I havenotdone that in the past.”
The theater is quiet save for the odd murmur.
“As some of you may know, I’ve been at this for a long time. So long that I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t performing. Even my personal life has mostly been a performance. And it’s recently dawned on me I am very, very tired of performing. And this new album…is not a performance. It’s a labor of love. It’s pride. It’s joy. It’s heartbreak.”
My eyes find West’s across the rows of attendees.
“I was raised in a household where nothing I did was good enough, where any misstep was met with abuse and condescension.”
Gasps echo to the stage, but I don’t stop. I expect music to start playing to cut me off. But it never comes.
“But I’ve recently sought shelter in a household where all my anxieties and all my missteps are met with unconditional love and support. It’s taken me a long time to accept that I deserve that kind of happiness. That what the media says about me isn’t actually who I am. I’ve only recently felt empowered enough to write my music and produce an album—shout-out to Ford Grant and his daughter, Cora, both of whom are endlessly kind and talented—that I am proud of from start to finish. It’s with this sense of pride that I have finally come to realize what I will and will not stand for in my life. Ford, you have given me a gift that is invaluable and yet integral to the woman who stands here on this stage.”
Someone whistles their support, and I flash a smile in their general direction.
“I’ve also recently met two small children whose strength and good nature make me want to be in their company always.I’ve met a man who loves me at my lowest of lows, who is my number-one fan. West, Iloveyou.”
I hold the award up in West’s direction and his cheeks are bright red but he still blows me a kiss back. Cheers and hoots ring out and all the words I planned to say flow from my lips.
“This album, and this title track in particular, is about growing and changing and evolving and the process of taking energy and turning it into life. This album is my permission to do the same. After years of faking it, I’m going to be real. I’m taking this life, the one I do not enjoy at all, and I’m turning it into one that I do.”
West whoops from his seat and tears spring up in my eyes.
“I will be forever grateful for this career and the privileges it has afforded me. And this award? This award is proof that I can do hard things. That I can rise above even the cruelest attempts to tear me down. I can turn a heaping pile of shit into a win. And it’s the perfect place to hang my hat. Thank you for the award. Thank you for the years of inclusion in this industry. I hope you all love the rest of the album too, because it will be my last. You may see me around, or you may not.”
I shrug and scan the audience over watery lashes. “I’ll be busy living my best life in a small Canadian mountain town that feels like the safe haven I’ve always dreamed of. Ollie? Emmy?” I hold the award up to the camera in front of me. “This one’s for you. See you at home.”
A smattering of applause builds. It builds and builds until I can barely hear myself think. I grin a real, wide grin as I lift my dress in one hand and make my way down the stairs.
Peers congratulate me on my way past. They shake my hand. They hug me. But it’s all a blur, a holdup. I don’t care about schmoozing. All I want to do is get to West.
I can see him. Standing. Clapping. Smiling.
So close and so far away.
When I finally get to our row, he steps out to hug me again. “Was that always part of the plan?”
I smile into his neck and breathe him in. “Once I realized I couldn’t live without you and I’d be miserable for the rest of my life if I tried? Yes. But I’m glad you were here to hear it in person. My flight out is tonight. I was coming straight back to you.”
“Home.”
I pull back, one hand on each of his cheeks. “Home.”
Then I kiss him again. Hard. I can’t get enough. He smiles against my mouth, and it makes me melt against his hard body.
“Remember how I don’t do things I don’t want to anymore?”
