An hour passed by before I slipped out of that dark and quiet world of unconsciousness. Guy held me in his arms inside his changing room. I looked around: makeup desk lined with an assortment of bright light bulbs, candle burning to my left, a desk covered in what looked like scripts to the show, and a narrow table with empty glasses and plastic water bottles.
He reached for a bottle and instructed, “Take a sip.”
“What happened?” I asked. The water soothed my dry throat. I took another sip and passed the bottle back to him.
“I asked you to come on stage. You did. Then I asked you to marry me, and you passed out. That was almost a half hour ago.”
Confused, unable to remember anything of the event, I said, “You asked me to marry you?”
“Of course, I did. In front of all my viewers and Gu
