“That’s the guy you just shot the commercial with, right?” Andrew points his spoon at the TV.
I’m stunned into silence when I see Alexander. I instantly get flashbacks to Britney Spears’s infamous performance ofGimme Moreat the 2007 VMAs, when she stumbled across the stage like a deer in the headlights.
Except Alexander is just standing by the microphone, sweating profusely as the band begins to play. Sweat patches form big circles underneath the armpits on his white T-shirt while he stares directly at the camera. I can almost make out Freddy shouting as Alexander reaches down to strum his guitar.
Just get through this. Just get through the performance.
I will him on as the cutaway shots to celebrities in the crowd show them looking slightly bewildered, which does nothing to alleviate my concerns. Alex stumbles as he finishesStolen Momentsand makes his way from the mic stand toward the piano to startMy Anchor.
He looks more like Bradley Cooper’s disheveled character inA Star Is Bornthan the confident international popstar I met nearly three months ago. Or the frosty-eyed handsome guy who stared back at me from my computer two hours ago.
Please let him make it through in one piece.
My whole body tenses as he plays the second half ofMy Anchor. His voice and body steady slightly behind the piano.
“Well, that was painful,” Andrew says, turning to me when the performance ends. He reaches into the ice cream with his spoon.
I hand him the carton and reach for my phone, firing up my social media apps to see if the reaction is as bad as I fear. The hashtag #AlexanderVMAs is already at the top of the trending tab.
My finger hovers over the hashtag. I’m reluctant to tap on it, knowing what people will be saying, but my mind needs to know if it’s as bad as what my eyes just witnessed.
Oh my God, is he on something? #AlexanderVMAs
Alexander Morgan looks like a homeless junkie. #AlexanderVMAs
Is Alexander Morgan having his Britney Spears moment? #AlexanderVMAs
Leave Alexander alone! #AlexanderVMAs
The messages are overwhelmingly critical of Alexander’s performance and look.
I throw my phone down on the couch, remove the blanket, and head to the toilet as anger squeezes every organ inside of me, including my bladder.
They shouldn’t have let him go on the show.
They should have pulled the performance. They should have said he was ill.
Goddamn his team.
My blood boils as my muscles tense. My heartbeat reverberates in my ears.
I grab one of the stress balls laying to the side that Andrew’s been using, helpfully emblazoned with the taglineSqueeze Me Not Your Partner’s Neck, lift the toilet lid, and relieve myself as I look at the framed poster hanging above:
Let That Shit Go!
My shoulders drop lower with each successive squeeze of the stress ball.
There’s nothing I can do now.
I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and let out a little prayer that Alexander makes it through the rest of the show before returning to the couch.
The voice of God introduces the actor Aiden Matthews, who looks vaguely recognizable from a couple of films, to the stage.He quickly rattles off the list of nominees before opening the envelope.
“And the winner for best song goes to…Stolen Momentsby Alexander Morgan.”
The camera cuts to the side of the stage, where Freddy is shaking Alexander’s shoulders back and forth. A slight smile emerges on his face as he walks out onstage, but fades as he approaches the guy holding the Moonman out in front of him.
“Congrats kiddo,” the man mouths as Alexander snatches the award from him.
