Long days had stretched into months, and those months into a year. An entire year. One where Amy Rose had been on her own, dancing across the country, hugging herself as the music flowed and flowed down into a place that she was sure had a bottom. She couldn't find it and had given up. Swept away in her life as it was now, she was happy.
Things just had a way of coming, going, becoming something almost completely different. Perhaps it had been exciting at one time. Not like it wasn't still. Yet, the new feeling of sparkling glitter and energy, the tingle of nerves that came with still hoping to be accepted had been swept away months ago. Sure, she still experienced a high every time she came on stage and waved to the thousands of meshed faces. But it wasn't a childish, uncertain, hopeful kind of desire for acceptance anymore.
They'd all accepted her and they loved her.
As she lay in her bed in her touring bus, gazing up at passing power lines, clouds, birds, there was always a billboard or two sporting her in a photo-enhanced glamour shot waving or smiling or dancing. Just from one song, she'd posted online so many months ago, she'd suddenly been caught up in the splendor of singer-celebrity life.
This was just another tour. Not that she was complaining. This kind of life had decided that it fit her well. She loved to blow kisses and accept thrown roses by waving fans and model for new makeup or clothing. Her songs were of the upbeat, bubble-gum style. She wrote most of them and had been gifted the chance to also decide what choreography, styling, and storytelling she wanted to go along with the performances.
But, there was always something missing. Day after day, she had to refocus her brain, lest it wander back to sparkling beaches of summer afternoons with her friends, where they laughed playing volleyball. The soft breezes and the ice cream sundaes and just wasting hours with them. With no Eggman and no responsibilities to save something or someone.
Eggman was gone at last. That had been their last team mission, that fall evening of yesteryear, just as the first whispers of winter had been whistling. Even to Sonic's astonishment, Eggman had outdone himself. Sonic had gone super and flown all through the egg base, devastating as much as he could. After Eggman had overreacted and activated the self-destruct for the whole base, he just, well, had fallen prey to the metal carnage falling all about him.
No one had expected him to fail to escape that time. He'd always managed to slither away.
And his sudden vacancy had changed their entire group dynamic. Her the most. After, she became what she was now: a singer, yawning on her bed, thinking about that night's upcoming concert.
"Will I see Sonic again, soon?" She sighed to herself.
The boy hadn't come to a single one of her concerts. Or she just hadn't been aware. Maybe she'd missed him. Each venue sported larger stadiums, more elaborate lighting, reflecting her rising popularity. A performing schedule was the only constant thing in her life right now, besides the endless traveling from one city to the next.
Concert after concert, her heart dimmed a percentage more, her hope that Sonic would inconvenience himself to attend one of her performances lessening. As her hope waned, the pain intensified. He surely had time, especially considering how fast he could run, but without Eggman, perhaps Sonic just had no anchoring element in his life to keep himself aligned.
All those months ago, he'd taken off running after Eggman's base had been demolished and she hadn't seen him since. Tails was studying at a robotics and aerospace engineering school. Knuckles was rolling around in the grass at Angel Island, as usual. She had no idea what Shadow or Rouge were doing. Most likely GUN-related missions.
Amy pulled the white sheets up to her chin and sighed, closing her eyes. Why torture herself with such melancholia? Sonic had decided he couldn't get his act together enough to pay her just one visit. It wasn't her responsibility to fix him, if he needed any fixing. Everyone had to rediscover their life and rebuild themselves. But, it still felt as though he'd rejected her completely.
"We all have to move on," she faded into sleep.
When waking, Amy knew she was at the team's latest destination, which meant she had just a few hours to prepare for that night's concert. Being the first half of summer, the days were still stretching, which gave them a little bit of light residue to focus with.
Clearing her throat and sipping some water, Amy descended from the bus and was taken straightaway into the back rooms of the concert hall. There, she was puffed and glossed over and stuffed into her latest outfit. Most of the time, she was also able to make wardrobe choices, this one a favorite for her. Red, her favorite color, a spaghetti-strap dress running to the knees. Unlike her regular dress, this one was slashed on four sides, revealing white satin beneath. It sported no lace, making it loose, so when she spun, it would whirl out and the fabric would shimmer in a lovely way. Her shoes were red silk flats, for she enjoyed a good deal of jumping when she danced, and heels certainly would have damaged her spine by now. Of course, though her hair was split in many places and curled into loose ringlets, she kept her red hair band. Some things about her she would never change: her heart, her love for Sonic, and her trademark hair band.
Pink lip gloss, sky blue eye shadow, a touch of gold sparkles under her eyes, and dangling, blue glass earrings contrasted well with her coloring. The finishing touch was a thick, pale-blue, glittery sash she tied about her waist, with the ribbons only falling to the base of her spine.
The makeup artist inspected Amy's red nails with a nod of approval. Then she was left to herself for a few remnants of minutes to sip more water through a straw and wait. The waiting was the worst. Her mind started to think back to things she hoped to see and feel again once the tour season ended. And Sonic.
Did he even listen to any of her music? Her soul was in every piece, as fun as many of them were. But there was one song, to which she once again pressed the folded, worn sheet of lyrics for down her chest out of sight. One of her top hits, one she always sang at every concert, because she couldn't. The fans were expecting it. And she hoped Sonic would hear it just once.
It was a staff member, motioning for her to come. Obediently, Amy did so, through the halls. The moment was nearing and she had just a few butterflies. As they came to the last door, the electric energy awaiting her on the other side seemed to seep through the frame.
He needed to say nothing and she only nodded, stepping through the opened door. An uproar of screaming erupted from the football-sized stadium as she came forth, waving and smiling. Her figure flickered above the stage on two massive screens.
Amy skipped to the center of the stage. She was entirely in this moment, watching how the sky transformed from blue to green to brush strokes of yellow, orange, and pink before her. She could see cumulus clouds puffing up, highlighted against threads of gold so brilliant, she almost had to close her eyes. Just like Sonic, when he was super.
With a glance, she nodded to her eight backup dancers and broke into the opening song. Outdoor concerts were the best! The cooling air gave her more than the energy she needed. In motion, she danced with her group and often came to the stage edge to touch outstretched fingers and speak a kind word or two.
If only Sonic smiled at her just for a second, it would count more than a thousand of the enthused smiles of all the fans combined. But he was not there.
Hiding a feel of disappointment in her chest, Amy returned to the center of the stage and resumed her synced dancing. Her special song was about to begin, and with it, the entirety of the dance was her own. It was more physical than any of her other ones, for reasons that she left everyone to speculate about. Every time she sang it and every time she twirled into the arms of one of her dancers, her heart throbbed. Imagination carried her away, then she returned to the disapproving reality and had to move past the girlish hope of it all.
As the song began, Amy took herself away. There was no crowd when she entered this place. And she sang all her heart and soul. She'd transformed. Her dress billowed out around her, a pair of matching red shorts beneath showing for a brief second. She ducked, spun, and ran her arms out to her sides, then clasping them to her heart and making another spin.
Through the air, she fell, caught in a dip by her backup dancer.
Amy opened her eyes to continue and almost choked. Barely, did she recover her voice, though it was actually such a split second of an emotional spasm that no one noticed. Amy was a professional and her recovery almost nearly seamless.
An explosion of nerves fluttered in her stomach and heart. Did she imagine it? The dance called for another spin, which she performed, her eyes seeking that backup dancer of hers, the one that now was supposed to make contact with her for the rest of the song.
All her dancers wore dark red shoes to match her dress. The one that took hold of her fingers, pressing them between his, sported a thick white stripe on each shoe and he pressed himself against her back with such seeking pressure that she knew this wasn't one of her men.
She turned, breaking the dance.
Sonic grabbed her to recover the steps and she fell in with him in a form of mesmerized shock. But the song went on. He knew all the steps as well as all her other dancers who'd been practicing for months. How'd he—when had he come? It was a good thing Amy knew the lyrics by heart, as she couldn't think coherently about them. They just poured out of her and she danced and Sonic followed in the steps and slid his hands along her arms, grabbing both her hands behind her back to his chest.
Every movement felt intimate; not merely rehearsed. At one point, he exhaled hot breath on her neck and she tingled and passed him a questioning look. In another, with the last round of the chorus, he slid off to a dark corner of the stage and she followed, for the story of the song required it. Her fans had seen this dance dozens of times and therefore, she was sure, knew nothing was out of the ordinary.
It was the part that she brought him back under the swooshing lights and then they synced in their dance, ever close, never touching, existing in a space, in a handful of seconds where she'd dreamed of but never dared expect it to happen. This had been how she'd felt when she'd written this piece: that they had never actually touched souls and no matter how close he'd physically been to her, his heart had always danced away. This was the only song she'd written just for him. Had he known?
His green eyes stared at her and she nearly swallowed.
With the last few seconds of the song, they were supposed to face each other and raise their hand in sync, pressing their palms together. Amy felt fire under her hand when their fingers met.
The last notes ended.
Sonic kept his position, a look on his face in her direction she didn't want to try to translate. She began to break away, but he knit their fingers firmly.
Amy didn't know what to do. The concert wasn't over. Even with Sonic having appeared like a phantom and all she wanted to do was run away with him, she was a professional. The concert had to end properly. The many thousands of people who'd paid to see her perform had to get their money's worth.
Slightly shaking her head, Amy tried to disengage their fingers. Instead, Sonic took a bold step right before her and slid his free hand around her, inhibiting her escape.
"Thanks, Amy," he whispered in the deafening silence of the vast auditorium, with endless shocked eyes and the bated breath of the crowd their grand audience. "I've heard you calling for me for months. Sorry I'm late."
With a smirk, he pressed his cheek to hers and then he playfully licked Amy's lips with his tongue. She jerked and audibly squealed, a sound that played out clearly across the air, as her microphone was still attached to the side of her head.
Sonic chuckled under his breath and leaned in near her microphone, ensuring the entire world would hear him reveal, "I love you, Amy."
As she gasped, he took hold of her mouth with his and didn't let her go. Closing her eyes, she leaned in, his body warm and his arms entrapping her. She'd been wrong. Sonic had refocused his life a while ago. Now she would be free with him, free for them to stand together in their new life.
Not that much into song fics, but I heard the lyrics for "First State feat. Sarah Howells - Reverie - Dash Berlin Remix" and the lyrics pretty much were made for Sonic and Amy. You all know what I mean. Did you like? Please review and let me know.