Chapter 196
Finally arriving at our destination, Louisiana, everyone was sent to their respective hotels. With such a large group, tighter organization was inevitable.
A few people were assigned responsibilities, and George Cooper was put in charge of the football team. Despite the headache, nothing could wipe the grin off his face—he was just hours away from watching the Super Bowl live in the stadium.
The rest of my group split up as well, but always escorted by security.
A few hours later, we all made our way to the Louisiana Superdo.
"Hey guys, I will see you later after the ga!" I called out to the football team and most of my security. They would be in two VIP areas right next to each other.
I headed toward the VIP box where only my closest people would be: Carly, Sam, Freddie, Cher, Regina, Cara, Pippa, Paige, Missy, Charlie, Dad, Gramma, Mom and Pepper.
"So, are you nervous, Jake?" Cher asked with a sly smile.
"Are you asking about the ga or the show?" I replied, smirking back.
Cher rolled her eyes.
But then I added confidently, "A little bit. But today will be fine! What are 73,000 people in the stadium compared to the 250,000 we’ll have at Tomorrowland?"
"I don’t think that’s how it works..." Carly said, eyeing . "But if you want, I can put on a costu and hold your hand," she added, half-joking, half-teasing.
"Carly Sass Shay, you’ve been spending way too much ti with Paige. She’s a bad influence," I said.
"You live with her," Carly replied flatly.
"And I’m a great influence. You should’ve seen her before. She was all teen angst," I added, dodging the muffin Paige threw at .
"Anyway, back to the halfti show. It will be... wait for it... legendary!" I declared dramatically.
I’ve stolen so many songs—what’s a few famous catchphrases? So bye bye, Barney
I sat down next to Uncle Charlie.
"The big day has arrived," he said, patting on the back.
"Yeah..."
Dad sat on the other side and gave a pat, too.
Uncle Charlie continued, "When your dad slamd the door just over two years ago, I had a bad feeling I’d be stuck with a leecher for years..."
"Hey!!" Alan shouted indignantly.
"But fortunately, that was only a bad feeling" Uncle Charlie smirked, and we three clinked our glasses together.
---
I was cheering hard—it was 14–3 in the second half for the Patriots.
"Never saw you this pumped at a ga," Carly spoke, eyeing strangely.
"Jake, you need to get ready," Pepper said while typing away on her laptop.
---
Then ca halfti. Another huge mont was about to begin: my first public show as Marshllo.
As I stepped onto the stage set up in the middle of the stadium, a massive roar echoed through the air—especially the deafening screams from the younger crowd.
I raised one hand in the air, signaling for the crowd to settle. The sound dipped just enough for to speak into the mic.
Using a voice modifier, I began, "Good night, everyone." My voice echoed with an altered tone. "Today is my first ti performing in public."
More screams followed, louder this ti, shaking the air with excitent.
"But tonight, on my very first public performance, I decided to do sothing completely different," I continued. "With songs far from my usual repertoire."
I took a breath, letting the mont settle.
"I want to dedicate this first song to all the lives lost in the September 11 attacks. This is for them."
As the words left my lips, the stadium lights dimd slowly, and the massive screen above the stage lit up with a simple, bold ssage: In moriam.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The roaring crowd quieted to a hush, almost as if soone had pressed mute on the entire Superdo. No more cheers, no more screams—just respectful, solemn silence.
Suddenly, all the lights in the stadium went out, plunging the Superdo into complete darkness.
Except for one.
A single spotlight remained, focused solely on in the center of the stage.
And then, from the side of the stage, Chester appeared. He walked into the light with slow, deliberate steps.
He gave a short nod. I returned it silently, then turned to my setup and triggered the instruntal track myself—every beat and note programd and controlled by .
As the first instrunt echoed through the stadium, Chester took the mic and began to sing.
While his voice filled the Superdo, the giant screen above us began displaying the nas and photographs of the victims of the 9/11 attacks—organized in respectful groupings.
One More Light (Linkin Park)
♪Should’ve stayed, were there signs I ignored?
Can I help you not to hurt anymore?
We saw brilliance when the world was asleep
There are things that we can have, but can’t keep♪
Throughout the stadium, beams of light slowly lit up in waves—each one representing a life lost. They rose from every section of the crowd, forming a constellation of rembrance across the darkened do.
♪If they say
Who cares if one more light goes out?
In the sky of a million stars
It flickers, flickers
Who cares when soone’s ti runs out?
If a mont is all we are
Or quicker, quicker
Who cares if one more light goes out?
Well, I do♪
And then, more and more beams began to light up—dozens at first, then hundreds, each piercing the darkness like silent prayers. The entire stadium beca a sea of glowing pillars.
♪The reminders pull the floor from your feet
In the kitchen, one more chair than you need, oh
And you’re angry, and you should be, it’s not fair
Just ’cause you can’t see it doesn’t an it isn’t there♪
As Chester sang on, the screen transitioned once more. Alongside the nas and grouped photos of the victims, images of their families began to appear—smiling, embracing, living snapshots from before the tragedy.
♪If they say
Who cares if one more light goes out?
In the sky of a million stars
It flickers, flickers
Who cares when soone’s ti runs out?
If a mont is all we are
Or quicker, quicker
Who cares if one more light goes out?
Well, I do♪
♪Who cares if one more light goes out?
In the sky of a million stars
It flickers, flickers
Who cares when soone’s ti runs out?
If a mont is all we are
Or quicker, quicker
Who cares if one more light goes out?
Well, I do
Well, I dooo♪
Chester scread particularly loud at the end.
The man with the voice of an angel, who could scream like a demon...
As the final note faded, the beams of light slowly dimd.
Then, one by one, the stadium lights ca back on—soft at first, then brightening to full strength.
The crowd, still stunned by the emotional performance, rose to their feet.
The entire stadium erupted—not in cheers, but in a respectful, thunderous applause.
73,000 people united in honoring the mory of those lost.
The massive screen above the stage lit up with a simple, bold ssage: We will never forget
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