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Sketchbook Week Day 1 - Backstage

Summary: Johanna didn’t really care for her daughter’s favourite singer. In her opinion, the songs were just a tad too aggressive, too loud, and all too capable of filling her young mind with ideas that her mother didn’t really think needed enforcement. So, obviously, Johanna wasn’t too thrilled to know that KAiSA would be performing in Trolberg.

But it would make her daughter so happy and it would just be one night, wouldn’t it? One night, and she’d never have to think about that woman again

Notes: Written for @sketchbookweek Day 1 - First Meeting (or is it? 😏)

Okay my friends, the premise here is: what if they were narrative foils in every universe?

Btw the genre of music that I’m picturing for Kaisa here is like a mix of AViVA (obviously - that’s the singer who Kaisa’s stage name is inspired by), PVRIS and Ashnikko. In case anyone wants to understand the tone a bit better since I can’t describe music for my life, I just went ahead and made a playlist for the type of song she’d sing in this verse, in case you’re curious: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3V01wHaO6ALuhPbNC8r0tU?si=1248165be2914be8

Read it on ao3

For her twelfth birthday, Johanna got her daughter good earphones. She’d resisted against doing so for a while, arguing that the girl might isolate herself even more if given the opportunity, but she’d eventually relented. Both because she trusted Hilda, and she knew that it was normal and even healthy for teenagers to not be as attached to their parents as they grew into this new phase of their life, and because she could not stand it anymore. Because even if the reason behind her resistance had been wanting Hilda to spend time with her and not shut herself off, she couldn’t (and wouldn’t) stop the girl from listening to the music she liked. And she did. All the time.

Johanna had always been partial to country and folk. She liked the type of song that made her feel calm, like she was floating, like she was resting her body on a field of wildflowers and being told folk tales by gentle elders. She liked the songs about falling in love, the ones that made her feel hopeful that there might be someone out there even for her.

Hilda, however, did not. Hilda liked fast paced and energetic songs that were made to be screamed to in dimly lit places. The ones that made the structure of their building quake when she turned the volume too high. She liked the kind of song you associate with unruly teenagers running around at night, graffiting walls, raising their middle fingers to any and everyone who dared to judge them.

She was particularly fond of one specific singer, a woman that went by the stage name of KAiSA. Well, fond was probably not the best way to describe it. Hilda all but idolised her, knowing by heart exactly what was going on in her artistic life at any given moment, asking for her merch at any festive occasion and listening to her songs minutes after they were released. Johanna supposed Hilda finally had a solid reason to venerate her, now. After all, it was the realisation that Johanna had her lyrics memorised that made her decide that enough was enough and she was going to get her child some headphones.

That didn’t mean she had to be happy about it, however. She had only caved because those had been extreme circumstances and Johanna had begun to fear for her sanity if she had to be submitted to one more electronic chorus or guitar solo. But the idea that she now didn’t even know what Hilda was listening to didn’t please her. To put it simply, and Johanna saw no reason why she shouldn’t, KAiSA was a bad influence. Not that she seemed to actively do anything reprehensible, at least not from the very surface level research Johanna had done. But her lyrics, all about rejecting expectations and choosing your own path, never failed to make Johanna cringe and fear for what messages were coming across from them.

Not that she was wrong, per se. Heavens knew where Johanna would be if she hadn’t painstakingly detached herself from the life her parents wanted for her. Johanna just decidedly didn’t think that Hilda needed a push in that direction. The girl was lovely, of course, and Johanna loved her with her entire being. Maybe even more, if that was even possible. But she’d been growing up, and they didn’t always see eye to eye. She knew her daughter hid things from her. She knew the unwavering trust and companionship from her childhood was fading away. And Johanna knew it was fair, because she wasn’t at all perfect and it would be selfish of her to expect her daughter to think of her like so. But she was still trying, and didn’t know what good that was if Hilda reverenced a voice in her ears telling her to rebel and cut herself away from any strings.

Which was why Johanna found herself in a precarious tightrope when her daughter approached her with her best puppy eyes one evening.

“Darling…” Johanna sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose after Hilda had shown her what was on her cellphone screen. “You know how I feel about this singer.”

Hilda seemed completely unsurprised by the argument. She did know, after all.

“But mum-” She whined with practised stubbornness. “What are the odds that she’d ever come to Trolberg? It’s probably a one time only thing, I’ll never have the chance to go to one of her concerts again! Please, mum! Frida is dying to go as well, I wouldn’t be alone!”

Johanna sighed, knowing it was a lost battle and unsurprised that Frida would be with her daughter in this. The girls’ parents had been very worried recently, noticing changes in her behaviour that they had no idea how to handle. She’d been, according to them, speaking back to them and disobeying a lot more often than she used to, staying up late and ignoring them. It wasn’t exactly a hard thing for her to be more disobedient than she’d previously been, since Frida’s track record was one of following their wishes to a t, but it still meant there had been a shift.

Now, Johanna wasn’t exactly sure the situation was dire like they made it out to be. Considering what she knew about her upbringing, it was just as likely that Frida had just decided she wanted to be treated more like a person and less like a show animal, and Johanna had never seen her be anything short of sweet and polite. But either way, the two of them had also noticed a link between their daughter’s behaviour and her growing attachment to a certain artist.

“But would Frida’s parents’ allow her to go?” She asked, even though it was more of a rhetorical question and they both knew it. Hilda looked shyly at her feet.

“They might if you let me.” The girl answered in a small voice, and Johanna groaned. She’d really been put between a rock and a hard place with this one.

If she didn’t allow Hilda to go, the girl would no doubt hold that against her for the longest time, and Johanna was already aware that her daughter was quickly piling up complaints against her that she couldn’t even imagine. It’d be better to not add another one, especially one this big, to the list. On the other hand, there was no way she would allow Hilda to go to such an event unaccompanied save for a friend whose well-being would also be Johanna’s responsibility, apparently.

She rubbed at her temples, regretting her next words even before they left her mouth.

“Fine. We’ll buy the tickets.” The smile Hilda shot her was almost blinding in its brightness. “On one condition.”

“Anything!”

Her light immediately dimmed with Johanna’s next words, but not as much as she’d expected, and not enough to make her feel bad.

“I’m coming along with you.”

…......

The venue was an abandoned warehouse on Trolberg harbour, because of course it was. The subversive and avant-garde youth would never be seen gathering at, say, a club or a stadium like their boring parents, no sir. Johanna had to bite back a groan when she put the address on her map app days before the concert, just to have an idea of what she’d be dealing with. She hoped there had been some semblance of an inspection at the building before, but she highly doubted it. Certainly, being somewhere that wasn’t structurally sound was part of the fun. That sounded like just the kind of thing those types would say.

When the day arrived, Johanna drove to the harbour with two hyperactive pre-teens on the back of her car. Neither of them had talked about anything else for the past week, and as much as Johanna was not looking forward to being squeezed between screaming strangers for two hours, at least after this it would be over. And at least, she reminded herself as her daughter jumped out of the car - parked neatly in a spot directly in front of the venue, which had been miraculously free - and took her best friend’s hand to pull her along, Hilda was happy and would have good memories of a fun night while being safe.

They’d arrived early. Johanna hadn’t wanted to risk anything stopping them from getting in, knowing Hilda would be beyond heartbroken, and the girl had been doing nothing but waiting for that moment all day (all month), anyway. So there were still people standing outside the warehouse, either waiting on the rest of their groups to arrive or killing time before being inside the venue officially. It was… odd. The warehouse was exactly what one would expect, ink peeling away from the walls - courtesy of the salty and humid air - and rusting gates. But the fans were not. She’d expected to see some standardisation, an army of moody teens and young adults, dressed in black and sporting sharp looks, the kind of person you figure would make you have nightmares just for kicks and laugh about it behind your back. The kind of person that made Johanna sing along when Hilda played that Teenagers song in the car, who really did scare the living shit out of her.

And sure, there were some of those. Mostly confined to a group of giggling girls that couldn't be over seventeen. But the rest of them… Johanna couldn’t figure out a pattern for the life of her. The ages seemed to range from younger than Hilda and Frida to way older than Johanna. People she would categorise as shy nerds, standing quietly near the walls, queer elders who carried themselves with confidence having a smoke (or just a conversation) before coming inside, even a group roughly Johanna’s age that looked like they’d just come out of an important office meeting that could very well have been an email.

It was… not what Johanna had expected.

The girls took it all in with the enthusiasm of children to whom this was the height of nightlife, of course. They insisted they go inside right away, preening when many of the adults nearby gave them thumbs ups or friendly waves at the sight of them, cooing about how sweet it was to have younger fans present among themselves. Johanna clutched her purse tighter.

A buff looking woman with a hard face and grey hair arranged tightly into a bun was controlling the entrance. It was clearly just her face rather than an attempt to intimidate, though, because as soon as Johanna showed her the three tickets she made her best effort to put on a smile - she didn’t look as if her face was used to doing that - and opened up the gate for them. They cringed at the sound, being reminded that abandoned clearly meant nobody had bothered oiling the thing in quite a long time, but they were immediately distracted by a vision of the inside.

It wasn’t just an empty space. There had been a structure built inside. They couldn’t see very far, since a wooden wall had been put up to make something like a corridor parallel to the front of the building. The wall was covered in art, each next to an instagram or twitter username, most of it either variations or clearly inspired by KAiSA’s album and singles art covers. The spaces that weren’t filled by the fan drawings had verses of lyrics, tossed around at random like out of context poetry. There was little time to analyse it, however, because as soon as they’d stepped inside a cheery voice greeted them. “Thanks, Agnes! And hello, you three!” Said a sun kissed woman with dark curls and wearing a merch shirt that matched Frida’s. She was on her feet behind a wooden stand, making Johanna wonder for a moment if this was where they’d be selling their products. The hypothesis didn’t really make a lot of sense when you took into consideration that there were no signs of shirts, hoodies or CDs anywhere near, though. “I’m Adeline, here to handle any accommodations you might need. We asked you guys about it during the ticket sales fill out form, but we have extras of everything, in case anyone else wants. How can we make this experience more comfortable for you?”

It was clearly trained, a mould that shaped the speech each time. But it was clearly genuine and even in the low lighting of the warehouse they could see the gentleness of Adeline’s eyes and the soft smile on her face. None of them knew how to react for a moment - they hadn’t really given much thought to what that question had been doing in the questionnaire, but had answered automatically. It wasn’t like it ever made any difference what was answered in those kinds of forms. The first to have any sort of reaction was Frida, who stepped up to the stand with fidgeting hands.

“I… am autistic?” She said, the unusual situation making her wonder if this was really what she was supposed to be doing. Adeline, however, only opened up a wider smile.

“Cool, me too! We have so much in common already.” She quipped, gesturing between their matching t shirts, a black garment with a golden hexagon print and a purple diamond in the middle. “Any sensory issues? We have earbuds and dark glasses, though I will let you know that there won’t be any harsh lights, anyway. Boss hates them.”

Frida only managed to gape, staring at the woman in disbelief for a couple of seconds. Adeline only smiled back gently, giving her all the time she needed to answer. When she eventually shook herself out of it, she asked for the earbuds, and Hilda stepped up and asked if she could have a pair as well. Both of them got them (Hilda’s were black and Frida’s were purple, of course), and when Adeline directed that blinding smile to Johanna to ask her if she could help her out with any accommodations, Johanna’s negative answer was a lot less certain then it ought to have been.

Adeline bid them goodbye and wished them a lovely concert, but not before pointing to the other edge of the corridor, where there were plenty of chairs, a couple of fans (the ‘wind making’ type, not the ‘screaming their devotion’ type) and what looked like noise cancelling headphones, as well as a drinking fountain, telling them to feel free to lounge around before the concert began and to head there if it ever felt like they needed a break. And not before telling them to come to her if they figured she could help in any way, of course.

They walked away just as someone else arrived to ask if their partner could have a chair for when they could no longer stand up during the concert, leaving the woman to her job. Hilda looked more energetic than ever, and Frida matched the sentient even if she looked… touched, and more pensive than usual. Johanna followed the girls past the passage that took them to the other side of the wooden wall. The stage had clearly been built for that occasion, and the more obsessive fans (the ‘screaming their devotion’ type, this time) were already sitting down on their own towels or standing close to it, making a barrier. The girls weren’t too upset by it, however, pleased about still being able to stay at a short distance from their idol. It wasn’t like they were going to attempt to touch her, anyway, they were both far too polite and respectful for that.

Other than the stage, the fans, and the pit, the place didn’t really live up to what Johanna had imagined. There was no trash on the ground, no scents that alerted her to illicit activities happening nearby, no screaming (at least not yet). The lights were soft, just like Adeline had promised, the warehouse’s white lamps having been covered by some sort of transparent purple filter to make them emit a much softer lilac glow. The speakers were already on, and while the show hadn’t begun, they seemed to be playing an ambience noise at a low volume. And it was classical music.

Had they walked into the wrong place?

It took no time at all for Johanna to feel like an outsider. She’d been expecting it, of course, but she’d also expected to have to keep Hilda and Frida as outsiders as well in order to protect them. Instead, the two girls soon found easy conversation with a group of college students that were standing near their chosen spot, sharing stories about how they’d found out about KAiSA’s music and become followers. Seeing absolutely no reason why she should interfere on the perfectly innocent interaction, especially not when they got into the topic of what their routine was like at college and seemed to be giving a shot at converting the two girls to the STEMS, Johanna simply stood near them, feeling awkward, silly, and a lot older than she actually was.

And then it happened. The moment everyone there was waiting for with such fierce anxiety that no amount of mingling with pleasant strangers could make them forget about. The lights over them dimmed even further. The ones above the stage got a shade brighter. A voice with a heavy accent - which Johanna only barely recognized from all of the songs blasting from her daughter’s computer, different as it was when it was just talking normally - bid them good evening through the speakers and everyone began to scream.

And onto the stage walked the most beautiful woman Johanna had ever seen.

…......

The concert itself wasn’t as much of an expectation breaker as everything else so far had been. Johanna had been forced to listen to a huge part (if not all) of KAiSA’s work, after all. Even if she did have to admit that whenever Kaisa stopped singing, whenever she interacted with the audience or introduced a song, she was far… softer than Johanna had expected. There was an edge of shyness to her that however many concerts she’d performed in so far hadn’t been able to erase. A lot of gratitude, too. She wasn’t insecure, but she didn’t act like she was proud of herself for being there, for having carved out that space for herself with nothing but pure talent and dedication. Rather she acted like that place was a gift, like that night was an opportunity given to her by everyone who had ever taken the time to press play on her songs. Johanna didn’t much care for the guitar riffs, for the middle fingers at some parts which she could only guess who they were aimed at, wasn’t too particularly impressed by the way that the singer’s dancing seemed to begin and end at shoving her torso forward to make her black and purple hair fall all over her face.

And yet, Johanna must have been just as entranced as any of the undying fans on the floor with her.

The woman had something magnetic about her. Something magical. Her style, for one - black wide leg jeans, doc martens, a loose black tee shirt with something long sleeved with black and white stripes underneath - reminded Johanna that ‘dressed like a rockstar’ was a thing. Even if Hilda had insisted many many times that KAiSA’s genre was pop rock and indie rock, still Johanna couldn’t see the difference since there was a rock somewhere in the name. There was also the way she put her hair back into place after doing one of her moves, the way that she carded her finger through it and made the mess worse, yet it always looked better. There was the way she looked so pleased when the crows shouted her lyrics, eyes flashing with genuine emotion as if she didn’t do that every week, as if she wasn’t a global phenomenon on the rise. There was the awkward smile she’d flash when she decided to try cracking a joke in between performances, the surprise on her face when people would laugh at it and not at her, as if this wasn’t her stage, her kingdom, and they weren’t all just happy to be able to be a part of it.

Two hours went by, somehow. Johanna was pretty sure they must still be in the first twenty minutes of the concert when the singer was giving her last farewells and acknowledgements, listing every single member of the crew (many people cheered when she said Adeline’s name) and thanking the audience once again. She turned her back to them to take a selfie with them all - not that she managed, some people around the edges still didn’t make it in - and told them they were a lovely audience.

And then, it was over.

It should have been over. People were promptly heading out the way they came, out of the warehouse and into the night, with goofy grins and memories of an evening well spent.

Except Johanna let herself get roped into something stupid.

…......

“Come on, you saw how she is!” Hilda had said. “Fans do this all the time! The worst we can get is a ‘no’!”

Johanna had had to survive the pressure of two pairs of puppy eyes pleading with her. They hadn’t even moved from their spot near the stage, even as people walked past them. It was a terrible idea. Sure, a normal thing for young fans to do, but Johanna was neither young nor a fan, and she really should have put a halt to this idea the moment it came up.

But it was just once, and Hilda was right in the end. They weren’t going to break into anywhere, just make an attempt. If they faced a locked door or got told to fuck right off, well, they’d have tried and no harm would have been done. And Hilda would be so thrilled if it did go well. Johanna had had her hands tied, really. If she, for once in her life, did the unexpected thing and helped her daughter and her best friend onto the stage, right before climbing herself, then it could be blamed on the adrenaline and Hilda’s influence. Nothing to do with the way that light caught in the singer’s eyes.

They were so quick about it that nobody else saw them. The three of them quickly snuck behind the stage’s curtains, going the same way that KAiSA had appeared and after the show, disappeared. There was a corridor, there, dimly lit and empty save for a technician working at what looked like a sound table. Everything inside Johanna was yelling at her to ask him if they could go in a bit further, maybe accidentally bump into a rising star if they got lucky, but he paid them no mind and she discovered she was too much of a coward to risk it. They tip-toed along the corridor, pretending they weren’t doing so, of course (looking casual was the key), and reached a door. An unlocked door.

Hilda opened it, naturally. She was by far the bravest one out of them, and it gave the other two some peace of mind knowing that they could always tell themselves they were just following Hilda along. Couldn’t let the girl go wandering off all by herself, now, could they? And just when they had forgotten that that structure that had been built inside the warehouse didn’t, in fact, belong to it, they were faced with the vast empty space of all that was left of it, a high ceiling and that same peeling wall they’d found out in front. Only one thing occupied the space, and it was a trailer in characteristic black and purple colours.

The girls gasped. It was almost too good to be true.

Would have been, too. If one boulder of a man hadn’t been standing directly in front of the trailer’s steps, and if his head didn’t immediately snap at them at the sound of two teenagers’ excitement.

They held their breaths. Johanna put her hands on both of their shoulders, just in case they needed to bolt quickly. The man - tall, as has already been established, dark skinned with thick eyebrows and a tailored suit - met each of their eyes. And then, after stepping closer to them, he stood up straighter, took a deep breath and opened a smile.

“Hello there!” Said the gentle giant, sounding a lot cheerier and more welcoming than he had any right to. “I’m Eldrid. Fans, I’m assuming?”

They nodded. Even Johanna. If felt like anything other than that simple gesture would require a muscle that had been locked in fear.

“Well, she doesn’t usually see fans after shows. Tired, and all. But would you like me to see what I can do for you?”

They were once again too stunned to do anything but nod.

“Great! One moment, please.”

Rather than going to the trailer to ask, he picked up a walkie talkie from his suit’s pockets. His voice lost no hints of that gentleness when he spoke.

“Hey! We have two young fans and an-” He squinted at Johanna like he was asking her a question. “Adult supervisor here. Do you think they could…?”

Johanna snapped out of it long enough to mouth the word ‘mother’ at him, at which he brought a hand to his chest and made a cooing sound. The moment barely lasted a second, though, because they soon heard the voice that answered through his communicator and it was decidedly not the singer’s.

“Children, you say?” Said what sounded like an elderly woman. “Well, let me see. My dear would you… oh, is that so… in that case-”

Someone was talking to the elder in the background. It didn’t take a genius to guess who.

“Yes, let them in!” Chirped the voice. “She’d love to meet them.”

Eldrid beamed, looking as happy for them as they themselves were. Or, well, maybe even happier. It hadn’t sunk in just yet that this was actually happening.

But it was. And they were greeted at the door of the trailer by the owner of the unfamiliar voice they’d heard, a lady with wrinkles and round glasses and a head of hair like a fluffy cloud. She offered them a kind smile, which they were all three too stunned to truly appreciate, before stepping aside and allowing them into a space that looked like a secret room that bookish children daydreamed about finding in libraries. It was cosy, with a kitchenette to one side, a couch and a beanbag in the middle and a built-in bunk bed. There was also a little corner that was very clearly meant for work, with a couple of instruments on the wall as well as an open laptop and a microphone. Books stacked on every available surface, including the kitchen counter, and there was a scent of lavender in the air. Most of the lighting came from fairy lights hung all around, and the walls were decorated with drawings and stickers that could have been taken from a children’s fairytale compilation.

The scene before them made a very stark contrast with the rockstar staring at them with a barely noticeable blush and a careful smile.

Hilda was the first to break. “Holy shit.” She breathed, meaning Johanna immediately also snapped out of it to chasten her. “Miss Kaisa, hi! Thank you for having us, we’re such huge fans!”

With the first barrier already brought down by her friend, Frida managed to take a step forward and open a beaming smile. “Yes! The show was fantastic, we can’t thank you enough!”

Looking very much like she had no idea how to handle the situation (which didn’t mean she didn’t seem pleased, her blush growing a shade darker), Kaisa walked closer to them.

“Is that so? Ah, you’re way too kind.”

“No, we’re not! We mean it, really.” Hilda insisted, her tongue loosening up at thrush of having her idol not a metre away from her. “Mum only came to keep an eye on us, and even she enjoyed it! Didn’t you, mum?”

Suddenly every set of eyes in the room - trailer - turned to her, and Johanna was keenly aware of it. Especially KAiSA’s. Those storm grey eyes locked on her and a spark immediately shot down her spine.

What was that word she’d thought when she saw her for the first time?

Ah, yes. Magnetic.

That checked out.

“I- yes! Yes, very much. It was a riot! An absolute banger of a time.”

Jesus Christ Johanna shut the fuck up-

The singer’s smile turned genuine suddenly.

“I’m happy to hear you think so!” She said. Neither of them were aware of the elderly woman looking between the two of them with an eyebrow raised. “I always like it when someone leaves happier than they expected to. You’re certainly not the first parent to accompany their kids to one of my concerts, and I have to say I really admire all of you.”

Johanna was good with people. She dealt with them on the regular for her job, interpreting the most overly complex instructions and appeasing the more difficult clients; she made small talk with strangers on the grocery line, she got on well with all the parents during Sparrow Scouts meeting. Yet somehow in that moment she felt like she had a net total of zero social skills under her belt, all of her cool suddenly evaporated under the heat of a hundred little fairy lights.

“I- well- you do?”

“Of course!” The corners of her thin lips quirked up even higher. She’d walked onstage with dark purple lipstick, Johanna was sure. There was nothing left of it now, even if there had been when she’d left the stage. Not that Johanna had been paying attention to that. “The younger fans are always so lovely. And it’s endearing that you care about both their safety and their happiness so much that you’re willing to tag along to something you won’t really enjoy.”

She was sure her cheeks must be nearing the colour of her sweater. Which, damn, why was she wearing that? She was at a concert, for heaven’s sake, couldn’t she at least have made the slightest effort to be in anything other than her everyday clothes? She looked like she was going to Starbucks. But it was too late to do anything about that now.

“I- I- I- did enjoy it, though!” And what was it with her that she couldn’t stop stammering? Her only saving grace was that a celebrity like her was probably used to a lot worse. She was still looking kindly at her, patiently waiting for her to speak with her hands folded in front of herself. She’d removed the black tshirt, leaving only the black and white striped garment over her torso and oh gosh it was a tank top, Johanna could see a patch of her belly if she so much as lowered her gaze for a single second- “Like Hilda said, I didn’t expect to. But you’re truly really talented!”

It looked like Kaisa was going to thank her for it again, but Johanna was spared from having to continue embarrassing herself by Hilda, who had apparently gotten sick of her mother getting all of the attention. The elderly woman was biting back a smirk behind them, having closed the door.

“If it’s not too much trouble-” Kaisa’s eyes went back to the child, widening a bit like she’d forgotten she was there. “Could we have your autograph? And maybe a picture?”

“Of course!” She said immediately. “If only I had- oh, thank you, Tildy!”

The woman had stepped up to Kaisa and given her a notebook and a pen, which none of the other people present had a single clue where she’d taken from. After taking the items from her hands, the singer kept a hand on her arm, covered by a woollen cardigan because apparently Johanna wasn’t the only one not abiding by concert dressing codes, and smiled at them.

“I should probably introduce her! This is Matilda. She’s my agent, and most importantly, my mother.”

The look that Matilda sent her daughter, apparently, was one of pure adoration, even though said daughter had now lowered her gaze to the notebook in order to find a blank page. All three of them ‘aw’ed at the scene, though if she was being honest with herself, Johanna felt something unpleasant stir within herself, like guilt rearing its ugly head and nudging insistently at her ribcage. It was becoming all too clear for her, and all too quickly, that she’d made all sorts of assumptions about the woman in front of her and that at least half of them didn’t come close to being the truth. Driving here a few hours earlier, she never would have expected someone who sang lines like ’fuck your oily slick truths, fuck your sugar sweet lies, I’d be my own martyr before letting you be the reason I die’ to also sweetly introduce her elderly mother like she was her precious treasure.

Johanna knew where this all stemmed from, of course. Trying so hard to be perfect and irreproachable all your life will mess you up on the occasions when you find out that people who do not censor themselves like that can, in fact, be just as kind and smart and responsible without bordering on anxiety attacks at the thought of doing something others deem ‘wrong’-

“What do you want me to write?” Kaisa’s voice cut through Johanna’s frankly concerning train of thought. Some feelings should only be set loose in places like home and therapy and definitely not concert backstages.

The singer had lowered herself down on one knee, which with her stature (Johanna noticed that even if her presence onstage was so enthralling that you couldn’t tell it then, the woman was actually quite short) made it so the kids stood taller than her. The two of them were apparently on the verge of vibrating at having her so near.

“Just your name would be perfect, miss!”

Kaisa lifted an eyebrow at Frida, and Johanna was afraid that she’d question the way the girl had called her (which Johanna knew to be because of her parents’ insistence on politeness and formality), before she tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure? I always feel so weird giving people bits of paper with just my name. It feels so self centred. I mean, I’ll give it to you if it’s what you really want, sure, but… just let me know if I can do anything else.”

Both Frida and Hilda looked at each other, surprised and also thoughtful about how to use the given opportunity. Johanna knew she should have stayed out of it, but the words left her mouth on her own accord.

“Why don’t you make them a doodle of something?”

All three of them turned to her. She thought she actually saw the rockstar look sheepish.

“Honestly, I can’t really draw.”

“That’s the fun, though.” Johanna smiled, trying to look far more confident than she was actually feeling as she tried to convince someone who had been on the billboard top 100 for the past three years of her silly idea. “Doesn’t have to be good. It’s just something for them to remember you by.”

If Kaisa expected to have allies in the two fans, she was certainly disappointed when they both smiled brightly at her, excited with the idea. She sighed, resigned, and beckoned them further inside the trailer, where she promptly let herself fall down to the beanbag and gestured for them to settle on the couch. Only Tildy remained standing, looking at the scene with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Alright, then. What are you guys called?”

Though she was focusing all her attention on the notebook in front of her, she still smiled when the girls introduced themselves. “Those are beautiful names.” She said without looking up. “Our names all kind of sound alike a bit, don’t you think? We didn’t get very original with the vowels there.”

“Wait, so Kaisa is actually your name?” Johanna asked, and apparently it was the wrong thing to do, because Hilda looked at her like she was about to die, Frida very pointedly did not look at her but there was clear mortification on her face and Kaisa… well, Kaisa looked amused.

“Yep!” She said, exaggerating the ‘p’ sound with a pop. “My stage name is just a stylization, but that is actually my birth name.”

The singer continued watching her, so Johanna hummed in understanding and nodded. It must not have been the reaction she had been expecting, because the mirth faded out of her eyes just a notch as she turned them black to the notebook.

“Oh, this is so embarrassing.” She huffed before ripping the page and offering it to Hilda, who took it in her hands like it was made of pure diamond. “Hope you’re happy, young lady. You can actually ruin my reputation with this.”

It was all Hilda could do not to jump out of the couch and run around in excitement. “Thank you so much! I love it!” She said as soon as it was safe in her hands. After a second of squinting, she added. “Just, uh, what… what is it?”

Johanna looked over her daughter’s shoulder at the piece of paper. In a fancy cursive handwriting, Kaisa had written her stage name at the top of the page, and then underneath it, a short sentence. It read ‘From the Trolberg concert on 19/11/2023. To Hilda. Love your hair!’

And then, besides it, there was a stick figure with an uneven circle for its head, a triangle on top of it, and a bigger triangle for its torso.

“It’s… an elf.” Kaisa said after deliberation. “Alfur the elf.”

Tildy snorted from her post a few steps away from them, and Hilda smiled even brighter.

“It’s really great!” Hilda said, and bless her soul, she probably believed it.

“Don’t lie in front of your mum, kid, she might think I'm a bad influence.”

Luckily, Kaisa had already turned to her second sheet of paper, so she was distracted from the distinct silence of three people biting their tongues.

When she gave Frida her own sheet, which was accepted with just as much reverence, it had a similar dedication but instead of an elf, there was a creature with pointy ears, a tail, and what looked like an attempt at wings. It was hard to tell, but there wasn’t much else that the bigger triangles sprouting from the oval body could be.

“It’s a catowl.” Kaisa said before even being asked. “Since it doesn’t exist, you can’t tell me my drawing doesn’t look like one.”

An eyebrow lifted, Johanna asked. “Implying that elves do exist?”

“Oh, we have a cynic in our hands, do we?” Kaisa answered with a smirk. The girls were still practically trembling with excitement, and were likely about to see if they’d lucked out and could also ask for a picture, when Tildy swooped in and asked them if they’d like to take a look at the recording apparel at the trailer. They jumped at the chance, of course, so the agent took them to the music corner of the space and began giving them a tour through the music creating process, leaving the two women alone. As alone as one they could be inside a trailer, of course.

“I don’t suppose you would like an autograph, would you?” Kaisa grinned playfully. It made Johanna blush something fierce; she hadn’t considered, so far, how it would feel to be the sole focus of the singer’s attention. It felt like what she imagined standing too close to a star must be like.

“That- no, I don’t need it.” She answered and then immediately bit her cheek, noticing what that must sound like. “Not that I don’t- I just don’t want to give you any trouble- oh, bother!”

To her infinite relief, Kaisa threw her head back and laughed. The fact that the gesture exposed her pale neck didn’t help Johanna’s predicament in the least, but if it meant she hadn’t taken offence then Johanna would take it.

“Johanna, I’m only teasing.” Though the words were softly spoken, Tildy still heard them all the way from the other corner of the trailer, bit her lip, and turned back to what she had been showing the girls. Neither of them realised it. “Trust me, I would not want to live in a world where everybody was my fan.��

The mother nodded, gulping when Kaisa got up with a graceful movement just to sit back down again by her side on the couch. She splayed herself, draping her low back over her side’s armrest and spreading her legs, making herself comfortable. Johanna wasn’t looking. Johanna was very pointedly not looking.

“You are great, though. Even I can recognize that and I don’t know anything about music.”

Kaisa flicked her wrist and looked away in what she recognized to be an ‘oh, stop it’ gesture. If Johanna’s brain had been making better use of its blood supply, she probably would have put together a sentence that said ‘sorry for barging into your post concert rest, and thank you for being so lovely with the girls’ in some shape of form. But her mind had a lot going on just keeping Johanna rational at that moment, so she only managed to follow Kaisa’s cues.

“So, what do you do, if I may ask?”

You may ask absolutely anything. No, bad thought. Answer like a normal person.

“I’m a graphic designer.”

Yes, that’s better. Normal person, normal answer. Good job, Johanna.

Kaisa’s eyes widened as she lifted both eyebrows. “You’re an artist? Did you ask me to draw something for them just out of sheer sadistic satisfaction?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see if there was something you weren’t good at.”

No, Johanna! she mentally took herself by the shoulders and shook hard. Too forward! You’re being creepy to the celebrity!

She was about to apologise when the glee in Kaisa’s face made it clear she wouldn’t have to. It might just be Johanna’s mind seeing what it wanted to, but the singer’s face seemed to gain a bit of colour.

“Well, it’s good to know Hilda has someone who can give her actually good drawings, at least. Are they both yours?”

Johanna sighed, relieved she apparently hadn’t overstepped. She’d have to reel herself in, though. Heavens knew what kind of terrifying situation strangers put someone like Kaisa through every day of her life just for doing her job. She was determined to not be one of them.

“No, just Hilda. Frida is her best friend.”

Kaisa smiled sweetly, glancing over at them. Unfortunately, they could see that Tildy had finished showing them the instruments they brought everywhere and the apparels in the recording booth, and were coming back to join them.

It made Johanna start, to realise that her daughter coming back so that she wouldn’t be alone with an artist she supposedly hated was an unfortunately situation for her.

Oh, there was no way this could end well.

“You must be a great mother. Bringing not only your daughter but taking responsibility for her friend as well, I mean. Most parents I’ve met wouldn’t do that. “

She was saved from having to begin what would no doubt be one of the most stuttery sentences in her life by the teens coming back with Tildy in tow. They didn’t remain for long, though it was a lot longer than they’d expected to coming in since not only did they get their pictures, but also were offered tea. After that, they were off, thanking the musician in every way they knew of, just to watch her blush and insist that it was nothing. Just as the door to the trailer was closing, Johanna’s eyes met Kaisa’s one last time. She wanted to say something, something that went beyond thanking her for the experience and the availability, but her mouth wouldn’t even open. She thought Kaisa understood, though, because the last thing she saw before Eldrid was guiding them out was Kaisa’s shy smile.

…......

“Do you still think she’s bad influence, mum?”

They were out into the cold night air, walking to their mercifully close parking slot. Johanna almost didn’t register the question, lost in thought as she was, but she was, first and foremost, a mother. Anything Hilda said would always be considered to have the highest level of importance to her brain.

Images of Kaisa flashed before Johanna’s eyes. Her smile, her hair, her twinkling grey eyes, the melody of her voice when it wasn’t shouting at a microphone.

Johanna bit her bottom lip. It was a good thing she was never going to see the singer again. Otherwise, this could become a problem for her. A very big one.

She pretended to think her answer through, making the appropriate humming noises as she started the engine.

“I might have been… overly critical.” She declared, pretending like there weren’t butterflies in her belly still. “She’s alright”

In the back of the car, Hilda and Frida shared a victorious look and smirked to themselves.

…......

“You got lucky she didn’t notice it, my dear.”

Kaisa stopped pouring the soup Tildy had made them into her bowl to look at her. The woman was watching her serenely from her claimed spot at the kitchen counter.

“Notice what?”

She smirked. “You said her name before she’d introduced herself.”

“Shit.”

#AAAAAA #i KNEW this would be a banger concept and IT ISS #this was SO much fun #sketchbook #probably tmi on the whole but i read this one a few days ago when my anxiety thoughts were being a pain #it helped #also my god Johanna that’s gay

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