Because I needed to tell this.

[aruan]

And now for the not-so-sparkly part of the show and its aftermath.

There were no signs posted around the venue, nor any notice printed on the tickets that any sort of recording devices were prohibited. People were running up to the stage in the aisles just to take pictures, whereas I was at my seat, not obstructing anyone's view and certainly not posing a fire hazard.

No one had said so much as a word to me previously before the rest of this happened.

At some point early into Build My World, with JC in the middle of breaking my heart, one of the female ushers came up next to me (I had an aisle seat), grabbing my arm and yelling, "Come with me, you're coming with me." She's by that point pulling me and also motioning for another girl to follow us up the aisle. So we get to the back of the theater and out to the lobby, where two security guys were waiting for us.

Now, did I mention that we hadn't had any sort of warning before any of this happened?

One of the guys started loudly berating us for having our cameras in there when we're not supposed to - it felt like we'd tried to graffiti the walls or rush the stage or something, the way he was carrying on. He checked himself and lowered his volume a bit after that, but he was still seething at us, saying that we're gonna have to take them back to our cars if we want to go back inside. This guy was angry about alleged rules (we were to find out later that everything he said was bullshit, but that's another story) that were never stated and for which we're mostly helpless to comply since I haven't a clue where we're parked and the other girl seeming equally flustered. Finally, she suggests that we give them our batteries instead, which mollified them enough to let us back inside.

JC was still on Build My World, in which I proceeded to immediately and completely immerse myself.

After the show, the initial reason why I went to talk to the first security guy up our aisle was because I wanted to see about getting the battery for the camera back. When I told him that security had taken me out and confiscated it during the show, he gave me a very surprised look and asked what happened.

What I didn't realize was how shook up I was about the experience until I started talking about it. By the time I was done telling the story to the guy, who happened to be one of JC's people not the venue's, I was biting back tears. I mean, I feel as if I'm sounding like such a baby about this, but with the grabbing and yelling and being interrupted like that in the middle of a song that had already made great headway into reducing me to an emotional mess and the possibility that they wouldn't even let us back inside - it all hit me belatedly, and hard.

Here follows a very convoluted series of events.

The guy radioed Carlos (yes, that one) who told him to take me to speak with the production manager. He passed me off to another one of JC's people and we walked around to the backstage entrance through the box seats at the side of the auditorium (on a sidenote, how freakin' cool is it to walk past security and have him only nod at you with a smile before opening the door he's guarding?) Most everyone had cleared out by now, but just the fact that I was seeing such a candid part of JC's production was squee-inducing, even if I had to keep it to myself. We peeked into the control room where the stage manager told the guy to take me to talk to the head of venue security, since it definitely wasn't JC's people who were confiscating any such items.

This is where I mostly omit the asinine, curt, abominably rude, and dismissive statements of the man in question, Sean. Essentially, he said the batteries and anything else confiscated weren't his responsibility, that they've been disposed of in the trash container I see behind him and that if I wanted it back badly enough, I was welcome to dig through it and find it myself before he flounced off.

I only wish I was exaggerating any of that.

My guide from JC's camp seemed equally taken aback before turning back to me to apologize about what had happened. Then he said something very odd: "I hope you won't hold this against JC." I actually took a step back from him at that. What an odd thing to say. How is any of the unprofessionalism of people completely unrelated to his camp his fault? I told him absolutely not, and that the show tonight was more amazing than anything I'd imagined.

In the next half hour, we spoke to a series of people ourselves (there was a point where I just kind of stopped being able to keep it together while recounting events and Schiz spoke to at least two people as well) and being passed along the ranks of security, management, production, etc., JC's, the theater's, and a private company who had provided extra staff. The assy head of security who had suggested I take my own measures to get the battery back if I wanted it, Sean, is apparently beloved by no one at all. I don't remember all the names and faces, but I do remember snatches of conversations I had - one had asked if I'd been a fan for long, to which I said not exactly, but even if I'd walked in not knowing who JC was, I would've walked out a fanatic. I remember one of them joking with me about getting my hotel room information so JC could personally make it up to me. I remember my hands shaking and wringing them together and a couple of them asking me if I was okay.

I did question myself several times if I wasn't just somehow overreacting to what happened. I hope that during the course of events I conveyed that this wasn't about some infinitely replaceable battery or getting something out of the promoters. Something unnecessarily bad had gone down, yes, and regardless whether my reaction to it was justified, I wanted whatever steps they could take, on either end, to be taken to ensure it wouldn't again.

Someone finally got the Spreckles Theater's general manager, truly the first person outside of JC's camp who didn't either pass me off to someone else or been outright dismissive. I remember he asked all our names and shook our hands, listened to what happened, and explained what may have gone wrong - some volunteer staff had been working that night, there was miscommunication between the venue and promoter's camps as to what were authorized recording devices, and Sean was again established as a general ass. He apologized on everyone's behalf and gave me his contact information, asking me to mail him the receipt for the replacement battery. He also brought us all venue posters from the box office, which was a nice gesture on his part.

As we were walking out of the inner lobby of the theater, we were stopped by a gentleman walking back inside who asked me specifically whether I'd gotten the battery back. The girls and I were surprised, as he hadn't been one of the people we'd spoken to. I told him about Sean's curtness. "He said that to you? Really?" he asked, looking as shocked as I'd felt. He offered to pay for the battery on the spot, at which I actually held my hands up and took a step back and gave the by now very tired slogan of the evening, that "It's not about the battery." He listened to the story as I tried to explain, at the end of which he, too, apologized for what happened, that it certainly wasn't a policy related to JC's camp (nonprofessional cameras, not just disposables are allowed) and asked for my contact information, saying that he'd arrange for "a special package from JC."

I must've sputtered and gaped a little. However, embarrassingly enough, I do distinctly remember saying something vaguely rude like, "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

He politely overlooked whatever I did say and introduced himself as Adam Ritholz, part of JC's management team and having been with *NSYNC in a lawyer capacity since 1998 (he's named and thanked in the liner notes for No Strings Attached.) He was more than fantastic. He asked about the show, and I tried valiantly to say something memorable (or, barring that, coherent) but I was still pretty overwhelmed so I'm afraid I mostly came off as fourteen but managing to keep the hotness comments to the girls later on. Of course I'd walked in with expectations, but they didn't even come close to matching what he actually did up there. I told him I was in town from Florida, that I had to come out here when the shows were announced because this would be the start of something amazing. I mentioned the leaked clips from July (he seemed like he'd made a grudging peace with the fact that it'd happened) and the anticipation that further built as the interviews started trickling in and JC began naming his influences, Prince and Duran Duran, etc., how that was the music I loved as well. He talked about going into the studio and being absolutely floored by what he heard, about how JC had taken everyone aback with the material and inevitably made fans of them. He seemed fondly amused by my disjointed happiness and shared his own stories, so it was more like speaking to another fan rather than something formal, and I think I got progressively calmer as we spoke. I didn't feel like I was defending myself to him. It's why I wrote him the letter - he didn't just do the professional courtesy thing and I really appreciated his candor.

Anyway, we were walking to the front entrance, wrapping up our talk when he detours us to the merchandise people and pilfers me a shirt, undersizing me by a measure and isn't that always fun? Anyway, he shook all our hands again and re-promised the package - personally, I was already in for way more than I ever thought would come of this.

Tony was also standing by the tables talking to his people, and just before we were gonna head out the doors, I ducked over to shake his hand. He's a whole lot of handsome, all scruffy and edgy emo, and held onto my hand as I congratulated him on the show, told him that I've heard his music before but it was my first time seeing him live and that I looked forward to doing it again as soon as possible. He seemed quite tired but totally lit up as I talked, smiling by the end and gave my hand a squeeze before releasing it.

And that's all, folks. We listened to lots and lots of Celebrity and gushed about the show in high-pitched syllables during the two-hour drive home and instead of logically collapsing into bed, sassygurl and I were up until, oh, 4:30 a.m. talking about her working backstage during PopOdyssey (Lance the crazy driver! Staring contests with Chris! Even their own roadies check out JC!) Truly insane amounts of fun all around.

JC! Solo! *dances to Sprung in her head*

Comments

[gjstruthseeker.livejournal.com]

There was lots of night to be had indeed. He was probably just covering his ass knowing he'd made a mistake by the time I got to him, so whatever on him. He won't be the one I remember talking to, anyway. Adam was so the man.

Glad you enjoyed reading. The evening was a real treat, in all ways.