Tour Life

                                    

                                          
[A/N: Here's the next chapter! Before we begin, I'd like to say that yes. For those of you that know Céline's tour "schedule" from these years, you'll know that I've now thrown off the entire history of events by 6 months. Honestly, there was no way around it, to coincide with Amala's birth properly. That means that future chapters may talk of the 98'-99' tour with dates shifted around. I hope you enjoy!~Jaded] 
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Céline's POV 
                          
The next six months seemed to have flown by, the tour was going smoothly. 
                          
Amala was growing like a weed, and everyone who came in contact with her was delighted by her.
                          
We were finally, mercifully, at the end of this long tour. 
                          
We were about a month away from her first birthday, and we were miles away from home. 
                          
In fact, we were in Zurich, Switzerland right now. It was November 26th, of 1997. 
                          
Tonight was our very last show of the tour, and then we'd be on our way home. 
                          
"Mama!" 
                          
Immediately, I drop my makeup brushes, and walk over to the playpen across the room.
                          
 "Bonjour, mon amour,*" I whisper sweetly as I pick her up into my arms. 
                          
She's squealing and squirming excitedly, as she always does when René and I are near.
                          
"Ba!" She shrieks, and makes grabby hands toward my chest. 
                          
We're about an hour away from Meet and Greets, and I'm already behind schedule for the night. 
                          
Still, I smile, nod and relax back into the couch next to her playpen. 
                          
"D'accord chérie,**" I say simply as I gently tug my outfit out of the way and place her to my breast. 
                          
She latches on, and begins to pat at my chest and the lower part of my neck with her left hand. 
                          
The other is tucked under her, my arms holding her close as my finger is held in her little hand. 
                          
"Bonne nuit, cher enfant,***" I begin to sing the bridge to Brahms Lullaby, as she feeds. 
                          
My voice low, and quiet because truthfully.
                          
 I'm using this as a way to hopefully lull her to sleep for the next few hours. 
                          
She never had been particularly happy, about me having to leave her to go on stage. 
                          
Least of all, when there were tons and tons of people waiting.
                          
They made her anxious, but, it also made her angry that she had to share my attention for three to four full hours a night. 
                          
And that meant, that from the moment I walked off that stage, she was not leaving my side. 
                          
No matter what, and if anyone tried to hold her, other than some she would scream and cry.
                          
I'm watching the time tick down quickly, forty-five minutes, thirty minutes... 
                          
She finally unlatches from my breast, her eyes closed and I know she's deep in sleep. 
                          
"René!" 
                          
I call out quietly, needing him to take her so that I can finish my make up.
                          
And hopefully be on time to the meet and greet, he comes in, a small smile immediately lightly his face. 
                          
When his gaze takes in the two of us, sprawled out across the couch.
                          
 Amala fast asleep, my breast still full exposed for anyone to see.