Part One

Stephen still couldn't believe his eyes. She was right there, his favorite musician. And the best part, she was literally larger than life. He could actually feel the tremors in the stage from her footsteps as she danced to the music. The thousand dollar ticket seemed like a bargain to experience something so epic.

This was his first time at a micro concert, but he vowed to himself that it would not be his last. He pushed his way through the crowd of screaming fans, to the very front row. The only thing separating him from his idol was a thick velvet rope, and a sign with an ominous warning. "Spectators not allowed beyond this point. For your own safety, DO NOT ENTER!"

Every now and then a member of the security staff passed by, patrolling the rope barrier. Stephen waited until the security personnel were as far away as possible. He had to get closer. He ducked under the velvet rope, charging the giant microphone stand. It took a few minutes to close the gap, even at a swift pace.

He couldn't believe it; he was right beside her! Her discarded cheap flip flops were lying right beside him. Maxine always performed barefoot. It was like her thing. He climbed onto one of her sandals to watch her perform, knowing it was the safest place to hide. She never put her shoes back on until the concert was over.

He watched her stepping around the microphone stand; her footsteps were in sync with the beat of the song. The crimson polish on her nails seemed to shimmer, reflecting the bright stage lights. He had read every bio, seen every photo. She was absolutely stunning from head to toe. And her voice, she sang like an angel; if angels sang along with electric guitars and heavy drums.

She shifted to the left side of the microphone, closer to her sandals. Stephen gasped. He could see up her shiny black leather skirt. She was wearing silky red panties. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. He was sure of it.

She stopped singing, pausing for the guitar solo. Her long black hair was streaked with red highlights. Stephen gawked as she thrashed her head to the rhythm, shaking her hair wildly through the air. He wished they allowed the spectators to have cameras. He would have loved to take a picture of Maxine. She was glorious.

He was looking so far up, at what was going on high above him, he didn't notice her foot moving through the air toward her sandal. His view of her epic hair was replaced with the bottom of her foot.

He stared in shock at the descending sole of his idol. It was too late to escape. He was about to get up close and personal with her; closer than he ever dreamed. Her flip flop trembled as her mighty toes touched down. He heard a soft rubbing noise as her flesh slid against the insole's foam rubber. A single thought repeated in his mind as her toes slipped over him, gripping the plastic pole rising from the insole. But, but she never wears her shoes on stage, he screamed in his mind.

Her toes rose into the air, lifting the flip flop. Stephen slipped from beneath the arch of her toes, sliding under the ball of her foot. He could still hear her singing his favorite song as her weight settled onto him, slowly smothering him. There was enough time left for one sloppy kiss, before it was over. He could at least steal a kiss before she unwittingly squashed him like a bug. He rubbed his lips against her moist sole. It was a little dusty from the stage. He stuck his tongue out, tasting her salty skin. The sharp tang of her sweat was the best taste in the world. He was convinced of it. It had to be, because Maxine Powers was a rock legend; the youngest woman ever inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

His ribs creaked under her weight. It was nearly impossible to breathe with her foot on top of him. His lungs could no longer rise, couldn't fight the increasing weight of her body. He knew from her bio she only weighed a little over a hundred pounds. It felt more like she weighed a hundred tons. She was a goddess of rock, and she demanded his sacrifice, intent on snuffing him out beneath her soles. His penis spasmed against her fleshy sole, spilling its warm contents onto his stomach. His hard shaft tried to jerk free, but was held fast by her meaty sole. It was his last fleeting orgasm before the end; a gift from the goddess above.

HIs chest collapsed beneath her weight; all of his ribs snapping at once with a deafening crunch. He screamed against her sole; his mouth buried in her warm flesh. All of the events of his life had led him here, to this moment. He remembered listening to her first album, dreaming of meeting her one day. Now there would be nothing left of him, nothing but a stain in her shoe. The bones in his legs were pulverized by her colossal weight. He felt his skull cracking under her foot. What was left of his body was racked with pain. "I love you Max!" he shouted weakly with his dying breath.

Women in the audience shrieked. The band stopped playing. Maxine continued singing into the microphone, unaware anything had happened, until she noticed the rest of the band was silent. "What? What's wrong guys?"

The drummer pointed at the large screen behind them. It was showing a gruesome replay of the accident. She stared at the video with an amused look on her face. "What is that John? Is this some kind of prank? Ha Ha, very funny." John shook his head no. She could tell by the serious look on his face that he wasn't messing around. "Th-This is a, a trick." Her voice faded into a hushed whisper.

She slid her foot free from her sandal, turning it over to inspect her sole. What was left of her tiny fan was smeared along her sole. She set her foot back on the stage; her bare sole slipped on the slick mess beneath her. She grabbed the microphone stand for support. Her knees felt weak, like they would give out at any moment. "H-How did this h-happen!?"

The room started to spin as she swayed unsteadily against the microphone stand. Her vision blurred before failing her completely. The drummer rushed to catch her as she fainted.

John pointed at the video replay behind them. "Somebody turn that shit off!" he shouted angrily into the mic. He quickly lifted her into his arms, carrying her offstage.

Part Two

"We have a very special show for you tonight folks. For months, she's been dodging the media. Tonight, after months of self-imposed exile, she'll tell her story for the first time. You won't see this anywhere else, so don't miss it!"

"The reclusive rock legend, Maxine Powers will sit down with us for an exclusive interview!" The host paused for the audience to cheer and applaud. "The video of the infamous trajedy has gone viral, breaking records on web sites all over the net. Tonight the lead singer of the mega-popular rock band, 'Max Power,' will tell all!"

The talk show host nodded at the leader of his band, giving him the cue to play something while he walked from the stage to his desk. He recognized their take on one of Max Power's more recent hits.

"Let's hear it for Rob and his band!" the host said enthusiastically. "Honestly, he's the best part of the show folks!" He pulled out his cue cards, signaling the band to wrap it up.

"We've set aside all of our time for Ms. Powers tonight, postponing appearances by other celebrities. Let's give her a warm welcome!" The host stood as Maxine walked across the stage, accompanied by her drummer. The host held out his hand, shaking her hands gently to greet her. "Thanks for being on our show Ms. Powers."

Maxine sat in the chair closest to the host's desk, with her drummer sitting close beside her in the next chair.

"It's John, right?" the host asked the drummer. "Any truth to the rumor that you and Ms. Powers are romantically involved?"

"We're not here to talk about that." John answered politely.

"Fair enough. I've been bombarded with emails and letters from your fans, ever since we announced you would be on the show. I have to ask, will you be performing live again in the future?"

"I'm not ready yet." Maxine answered honestly. "But I want to, eventually. I won't be doing anymore micro concerts though." There was a collective groan from several of the audience members. "They aren't safe!"

"I happen to have a very special fan letter. I was wondering if you'd be willing to read it aloud." He unfolded the piece of paper, handing it to Maxine.

The paper shook in her hands as she recognized the name of her victim signed at the bottom, or maybe it was her hands shaking. She wasn't sure. "I can't..."

"Please try Ms. Powers."

Maxine started reading slowly. The letter was filled with praise and admiration, citing the great milestones of her career. She cried her way though half the letter, before stopping. Every generous word from her unfortunate victim weighed heavily upon her. She felt the guilt she had been trying to work through for months rushing back.

"I can't read anymore. Please don't make me. He loved me so much, worshipped me, and I... I..."

"It was an accident Max." John squeezed her hand. "You know that."

"I killed him! I'm a monster. He must've been so afraid." She clung to John tightly, burying her face in his chest, sobbing loudly.

"Sounds like he was a stalker." The host interjected.

"Shut the fuck up!" She turned, snapping at him. "He was not. I never saw him once before that night. He was just an adoring fan. I know the difference. I HAVE stalkers, plenty of them. That sweet boy didn't deserve what happened to him. And it's cruel of you to suggest he had it coming somehow."

"But isn't it possible he got exactly what he wanted?" the host quickly shot back. He pulled up her fan site on the large TV screen behind him, clicking the fan comments tab. "I wish she'd step on me too!" He pointed at the screen. "I'm quoting directly from the site."

"Stop it! Just stop!" Maxine cried.

"Another fan wrote, 'I'd squish for her. I'd leave a nice big stain under her pretty foot!'" The host pressed a button and the TV descended into the floor. "As you can see, he wouldn't be the only one. What did it feel like Maxine? Did you enjoy crushing one of your fans like a bug?"

Maxine lunged at the host, punching him in the face, striking him repeatedly. "Shut up! Shut up!"

John pulled her off him, glaring at the host. "This interview is over. Come on Max, let's go. This was a bad idea."

"Wait, I want to say something to Stephen's parents before I go. I hope they'll see this. Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I'm so sorry about your son. I'd do anything to take it back. I wish I could. I think about Stephen Albert Smith every day. He was a good boy, with a bright future. I don't know how to express my sorrow in words." She paused wiping at her eyes, sniffling noisily. "I don't want you to forgive me. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself. But please know how truly sorry I am."

John waited for her to finish, before putting his arm around her shoulder. She huddled against him while they walked off the set.