Finally arriving at our destination, Louisiana, everyone was sent to their respective hotels. With such arge 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 hourster, we all made our way to the Louisiana Superdome.
"Hey guys, I will see youter after the game!" 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 game 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 stadiumpared to the 250,000 we''ll have at Tomorrond?"
"I don''t think that''s how it works..." Carly said, eyeing me. "But if you want, I can put on a costume and hold your hand," she added, half-joking, half-teasing.
"Carly Sass Shay, you''ve been spending way too much time with Paige. She''s a bad influence," I said.
"You live with her," Carly replied tly.
"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 me.
"Anyway, back to the halftime show. It will be... wait for it... legendary!" I dered 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 me on the back.
"Yeah..."
Dad sat on the other side and gave me a pat, too.
Uncle Charlie continued, "When your dad mmed the door just over two years ago, I had a bad feeling I''d be stuck with a leecher for years..."
"Hey!!" n shouted indignantly.
"But fortunately, that was only a bad feeling" Uncle Charlie smirked, and we three clinked our sses together.
---
I was cheering hard—it was 14–3 in the second half for the Patriots.
"Never saw you this pumped at a game," Carly spoke, eyeing me strangely.
"Jake, you need to get ready," Pepper said while typing away on herptop.
---
Then came halftime. Another huge moment was about to begin: my first public show as Marshmello.
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 me 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 time performing in public."
More screams followed, louder this time, shaking the air with excitement.
"But tonight, on my very first public performance, I decided to do somethingpletely different," I continued. "With songs far from my usual repertoire."
I took a breath, letting the moment 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 dimmed slowly, and the massive screen above the stage lit up with a simple, bold message: In Memoriam.<fn8fd1> Readplete version only at Find?Novel</fn8fd1>
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The roaring crowd quieted to a hush, almost as if someone had pressed mute on the entire Superdome. No more cheers, no more screams—just respectful, solemn silence.
Suddenly, all the lights in the stadium went out, plunging the Superdome intoplete darkness.
Except for one.
A single spotlight remained, focused solely on me 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 me a short nod. I returned it silently, then turned to my setup and triggered the instrumental track myself—every beat and note programmed and controlled by me.
As the first instrument echoed through the stadium, Chester took the mic and began to sing.
While his voice filled the Superdome, the giant screen above us began disying the names 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 constetion of remembrance across the darkened dome.
?If they say
Who cares if one more light goes out?
In the sky of a million stars
It flickers, flickers
Who cares when someone''s time runs out?
If a moment 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 became a sea of glowing pirs.
?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 mean it isn''t there?
As Chester sang on, the screen transitioned once more. Alongside the names 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 someone''s time runs out?
If a moment 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 someone''s time runs out?
If a moment is all we are
Or quicker, quicker
Who cares if one more light goes out?
Well, I do
Well, I dooo?
Chester screamed particrly 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 dimmed.
Then, one by one, the stadium lights came 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 apuse.
73,000 people united in honoring the memory of those lost.
The massive screen above the stage lit up with a simple, bold message: We will never forget
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