When I saw him for the first time live, my heart had skipped a beat, and my hand dashed up immediately to my clownish grin.
He had on a charming, polite grin, signing playbills for everyone standing at Stage Door. Fellow fans were right; he did look a lot better in person! He wore a black coat, white shirt and black pants.
My legs were rapidly shaking, and I could've sworn that it got a little bit brighter, like the sun was coming out after a chilly Sunday morning.
My friends started to giggle, nearby, at my expression, realizing what was in store in the next few minutes.
"Don't forget to breathe!"
"Just shove them out of the way! You'll never reach him if you just stand there!"
"Is she dead?"
My heart raced even faster as I realized that he was only two feet away from me. I was giggling insanely, my legs bouncing up and down.
"I take it this is your first time in New York?" A woman to my right wearing sunglasses was smiling at me, laughing at my sheer excitement, but she could understand why.
I nodded. I couldn't speak just yet.
"First time on Broadway?"
I nodded again.
"First sighting of Alan Rickman?"
I nodded furiously this time. At this point, all my rationality was gone and was replaced with my admiration and respect for Mr. Rickman and his talents.
The woman laughed, along with a few other women standing nearby.
"Don't worry, dear. You're doing better than a lot of girls would be...I saw a few girls who fainted at the mere sight of him, once."
"Careful, I think he's in earshot." Another woman snickered.
I laughed, but I soon found myself laughing at everything. All I could feel was adrenaline rushing through my veins. I couldn't feel the cold air at all.
He then glanced up and noticed my excitement. Gently, he took my playbill out of my hands to sign it and smiled, looking at me straight in the eye.
Say something, idiot!
"M-Mr. Rickman, you are my idol!"
He paused, cocked his head to the side, pure disbelief across his face, but he still wore a polite, slightly humored smile.
"I-I-I'm just so humbled to be in your presence...my god...you're a such a good actor!"
He still stared, and all the women started to laugh even harder at my sheer foolishness.
He smiled a little more, taking a small step back from me. Perhaps he was worried for my sanity and his well being, but he signed my playbill and handed it back to me in the same gentle manner he had taken it.
"Thank you, that's nice..." he muttered, but he was very quiet, almost as if he intended for me alone to hear it.
A girl who came with me had her camera out and placed a hand on my shoulder in hopes to calm me down.
"Mr. Rickman, she's a huge fan, can we get a picture?"
He took another playbill and started to sign. "Well, I can't pose or anything, but...you can take a picture if you'd like."
She took a step back and snapped a picture.
"Awesome!" she hollered as the picture came on screen.
I beamed as she showed me the photo on the camera, with me wearing a completely stupid smile while he gave his signature to some of the older women. "Oh, Mr. Rickman, nice guys like you should never have bad days!"
I almost kissed his signature. I was laughing so hard, and every time I looked up and saw him signing playbills, I would burst into laughter and cover my mouth.
"Yeah, this is exciting, isn't it?"
My friend's mother stood there, giving me a hug in hopes that it could calm me down.
"T-This is the greatest day of my life!"
Everyone there must've thought I was completely insane, and Mr. Rickman being no exception. He was just smiling and signing, ignoring me like I was completely silent. God knows what he was thinking; maybe I completely embarrassed him in front of everyone in New York. Then again, he had probably seen worse. Perhaps I made his day, or even his week. Might've been the case he wanted me to just shut the hell up. I rationed that it was a combination of everything.
"I'm so happy!" I was laughing so hard, I sounded like the Joker. I was shaking, hugging all my friends. Tears blinded me from anything, and the giddy forced my vision to be ridiculously clouded.
"Oh, god, are you crying? Stop! Now you'll make me cry!"
I didn't respond. I just tried to calm myself down and savor this moment at the same time.
"Maybe you should wait until she's able to speak..." Our supervisor chuckled; just like almost everyone there who just sat back and enjoyed the show.
"Well, this is a little treasure you'll remember for your whole life, right?" My friend's mom said, pulling her purse back up.
"Yes!" I exclaimed, glancing up again at Rickman. He was as far away from me as he could, still signing playbills, still having that grin he gave me.
"I'll never forget this day!" I yelled out to the cloudy sky, laughing in mass hysteria.
"You're so melodramatic." My friends were snickering at my complete loss of sanity, and only the forty or older adult women seemed to understand, but not defend, my actions.
I felt like I had all the energy and strength into the world, almost dancing with each step I took. I glanced behind and took one last look at my favorite actor.
I didn't see him as Hans Gruber, Sherriff of Nottingham, Alexander Dane or even Professor Snape, I saw him as an underrated, talented man that I couldn't stop watching. I saw a man who refused to let his career and fame get to his head, like so many of his kind. I saw a man who took his work seriously by not taking himself too seriously.
I saw Alan Rickman, and yes, I was extremely melodramatic and irrational, but I didn't really think I was insane. Just passionate.
I reluctantly followed the group, carefully folding my playbill in my purse. It would always remain my greatest possession, and this would be my treasure memory.