I never thought we'd end up in the same city - so when Rachel called to tell me she was thinking of moving to Los Angeles after graduation, I was shocked. Excited but totally surprised. I found her and her roommate an apartment and they moved in over the summer. Rachel had no idea what she was going to do when she got here. She had friends from University of Michigan - friends who were making music, starting bands... Within two months of moving here, my little sister (who knew all of five people in LA) had joined two bands and a quartet. One of the bands she joined was Darren's.
Darren, who was a total star already, recently exploded with THE cover of Teenage Dream on Glee. So sent the band to the moon and Rachel along for the ride.
Before Saturday's show at The Roxy, (they sold out so fast The Roxy gave them a second show which ALSO sold out within a day.) Rachel came over and I did her makeup, lent her my fave red dress. I did her makeup before prom when she was in High School. Lent her a similarly red dress for the dance... Some things never change. Others things, uh... change.
I dropped her off backstage before the show and returned later with Hal and my parents who drove up with my Nana and my aunt. And a cazillion of Darren's screaming fans.
Last year I wrote this post, about going out to Michigan to watch Rachel's senior recital and how watching her perform was like seeing her for the first time. But even that was different - college is safe and I wasn't surprised to see Rachel in her element, there, surrounded by music majors and the support of teachers who adored her. Saturday night she played in a band SHE was proactive in joining in a city she decided to move to on a whim not six months ago. And now? She's backing up rock stars.
She was fearless and confident and beautiful. She sang and played her flute and smiled and when it was over, signed autographs of teenage girls who thought she was the coolest.
Because, duh, she SO is.
(Okay, so Darren's not so bad either.)
I stood by her feet and watched her sing and play and rock the shit out of her smoky-eye and red dress. I screamed her name. As her sister, sure, as her friend, totally, but mainly as a fan. As HER fan.
"Rachel Woolf is my hero!" I howled.
Rachel Woolf is my hero.