I was preparing the trailer that we used as the Queen's dressing room all through the tour when she arrived hours before the show. She showed me in great detail how to set up her make-up case, told me to place a small trash bin on her right hand side, and a clock on the left. 2 glasses in front of the mirror, one half filled with water, the other reserved for eye shadow brushes. Next to them, I had to get her ice-cold diet coke and ashtray ready. Q-tips, Vicks and Vocalzone would be on the other side of the table. She showed me how each brush, blusher, palette and foundation needed to be placed on a paper towel, told me to check that all the light bulbs were working before she came to the venue, and I had to have both the air conditioner and two small fans ready at all times. Although she normally leaves her hotel room just 45 minutes before the stage time, ready from tip to toe, in this tour she wanted to come to the venue earlier, drink coffee and chat with crew members, other artists, and guests, if any, and get ready in her trailer, while listening to the opening bands singing to a huge crowd, front lines kept by the Queen's fans as soon as the doors open every day.
She had a few sets of stage clothes, and she would let me know which one she was going to wear the night before, so that I could arrange the dry cleaning, or iron her clothes in the trailer myself.
She was amazing, charming and beautiful no matter how she looked, but it was that time of her life when she was the chubbiest, and she didn't feel great on the inside, as well. That's the only logical explanation of how she looked on the first night. She wore a wig which looked ingloriously fake and obvious, and a denim vest and short, baggy denim trousers. She came out of her room just 5 minutes before the show, looked me in the eye, and asked how she looked. I couldn't get myself to say that she wasn't looking great, and instead I just remained silent and made this:
¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
I could see that she regretted her choice that moment, but there was absolutely no time for a change. So she went on stage, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin. All the pictures taken on that show have been used hundreds of times on the press, and I'm sure she hated every time she saw them. Later she explained how she loved that I just couldn't lie, and decided to trust me even more.
During that tour, she was really not herself, and she was full of rage and anger with everyone. She came down from stage stairs frustrated every time, sat on that beautifully prepared table with candles, after show snacks, lots of drinks and champagne, and everyone would get a scold in that table, in front of everyone. Everyone, including the other artists and crews right in the next table heard about the incapabilities of our crew, and it happened almost every night. This issue became one of the industry's favorite gossips at the time.
She especially gave Jenny a hard time after every show whenever she joined us, asking about every little detail that went wrong, and requesting explanations for momentary mistakes like opening the spotlight a few seconds late during her speech, or inevitable bad jokes of nature, like the wind changing its direction right before the show, and generator smoke going directly to stage.
Needless to say, she was always so hard on her band as well. Sometimes she even didn't wait until the show was over, and gave that infamous furious looks to the band members whenever they played a wrong note on stage. Visual artists were already struggling to avoid showing her belly, jowl, or side arms on the giant screens, and now they also had to cut these angry looks to the band.
Working under such stress was not easy, believe me. That intense, electric air on stage and in general reflected on every other aspect, and every one of us started doing mistakes we wouldn't normally do. After I forgot to check the bulbs, and of course, one of them failed, she picked on me for hours, and kept talking about it even after the show. And what's more, I was also yelled at because I was upset and and it showed on my face.
I wasn't making all these a big deal, because I was also the one witnessing how she regretted everything she said at the end of the night, and burst into tears while trying to pack her suitcase just before we would leave for the hotel. She talked to me about how she couldn't focus on stage, thinking that she knew Jenny would be crying somewhere at that time because of something she said to her, calling her on stage in between the songs. She was upset that her latest album wasn't a big success, she thought her shows weren't as good as they used to be, the crowd wasn't huge enough for her, and she was blaming everyone else but herself for this, while knowing the absolute truth deep inside. In fact, she was worrying for nothing. The shows were great, the audience was fantastic, and she was, just like she has been for years, the biggest female singer of this country. She just needed to enjoy what she'd been living in.
Being that tight-lipped, discreet girl that I was, who was also terribly scared of saying something wrong, I couldn't say all these when she cried in the trailer when everyone else had left. I just said things like "Don't think like that, the show was amazing, I noticed the part you sang differently tonight, and it was magical, you gave me chills!" I guess that helped, too.
The worst part of that tour was not all those stressed after-show moments. The nightmare began when we started traveling to the southern part of the country, where the temperatures were crazy and we weren't used to the local food. Everyone in the crew started getting sick with heavy diarrhea, vomiting, and fainting due to fatigue. First a few stage hands had it. Then the managers, the band members, sponsors, promoter, and finally, the artists. At some point, even the paramedics touring with us were applying IV to themselves, and then we had to cancel a couple of shows. I tried to endure as long as I could, as I was usually the one arranging the ambulance, or IV sessions in the hotel rooms, which turned into infirmaries, but after a point, I was down with it as well.
After having a much-needed rest for a few days, the tour continued and we finally reached the final part, which was in beautiful, sunny cities with great beaches and a lot of partying.
Getting ready backstage, in her trailer had become the Queen's second favorite part of the day. She would arrive when the first opening band would sing that ballad we both loved a lot, which had a beautiful story, and she would be ready to start her make up when the rapper greeted the audience saying "I know most of you are here for the Queen, but I salut you, my rocker friends, let's have some fun!" I liked watching her giggle on the mirror, every time he did different versions of this sentence on stage.
By the end of this tour, I and the Queen had grown much, much closer together, and I had learnt hell of a lot. Jenny, on the other hand, had had enough, and after submitting the production manager's resignation letter to the Queen, she decided to leave, too.
Next: That's the spirit!
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