The spotlight beats down on me, causing sweat to form on my brow as the fans in front of the stage act as my only saving grace, and yet, despite how much I am burning up on this stage – literally and figuratively – my entire being comes alive with every note I sing. I’m feeding off the crowd’s energy, their excitement acting as my fuel as I sing Madonna’s song Secret. Bedtime Stories is my favourite Madonna album of all time and is just one of the many reasons I wish I was born in the 90s.
The crowd dances to the beat, throwing bills onto the stage as the dancers and I continue our choreographed routine to perfection. I’m sweltering in these high-waisted black leather pants, but it is worth it. On the beat, I throw out my right leg, stomping my 7” black, pointed stiletto knee-high leather
