SINGAPORE – A man across the barricades 5m away was waving a piece of paper wildly in the rain and shouting what sounded like “free”. The next thing I knew, I was in a Category 1 seat watching Tay Tay work her magic.

I don’t know how it gets better than this.

It was Day 2 of pop star Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour on March 3 and I was resigned to Cat 100 – a term fans now use to describe the area outside the National Stadium where people who were not able to snag tickets to her concerts here could gather and listen to her perform.

I had tried to buy a ticket in July 2023 to watch the American superstar, whose music I have listened to since I was 11, but failed during The Great War then. The fear of falling into scammers’ traps meant I was still ticketless as the dates of her shows here came closer and closer.

And so I came up with a plan: Get there early for the best spot outside the stadium, lay out my picnic mat, get a bubble tea, and have a fun sing-along with friends and Swifties around me.

I got there at 3.30pm – about 2½ hours before Swift’s concert was to start – and found a good spot facing the opening at the west end of the National Stadium’s domed roof. My friends had not arrived yet. It was sunny at first but by 5pm, I had already sheltered myself with a flimsy umbrella from three brief showers.

Around this time, a man appeared like sunshine in what felt like my midnight rain.

Standing behind a barricade just a few metres away from me and the other fans, and without an umbrella, the man waved a piece of paper – a ticket – in the hope of finding someone to redeem it for free.

A security guard in the area helped pass the paper to a fan. Jaws dropped when the people around me saw what the paper read: Cat 1.

We did not know his story. We did not know what led him to give the extra ticket away. We never even got his name.

All I knew was that, thanks to this mysterious man, I was holding the opportunity of a lifetime in my hands.

Incredibly, many fans around me were hesitant to take it as they already had tickets for another date, and were there only to soak in the atmosphere. They seemed willing to pass up the chance to someone who did not get a ticket. Someone like me.

“You do not have a ticket, right? Do you want it?” a fan asked.

“You should take it. Go for it,” another said.

Fans around me continued to spur me on and I finally took the plunge when my friends – who did not have tickets – sent me a message to give me their blessing to go for it.

It all happened so fast. I was trembling and on the verge of tears. My heart skipped several beats and all I felt in my stomach were butterflies – the beautiful kind.

“Don’t cry here! Cry inside! Tell us what the view is like when you are in,” one fan said.

Everything was a blur.

Soon, the rain stopped. And the ticket was my rainbow.

But questions raced through my mind as I made my way to the entry point. Was this a scam? Could I really get in with this piece of paper?

It did not help that the barcode was slightly smudged from the rain.

After a bag check and a five-minute walk around the stadium’s promenade that felt like years, I came face to face with the final barrier between me and my childhood idol – the ticket scanner.

When it turned green, I entered Swift heaven. And just like that, within a little over 40 minutes, my day had turned into a fairy tale.

I reached my seat in time to catch American singer-songwriter Sabrina Carpenter, the opening act for Swift. The seat – which cost $358 – gave me a good view of both of them.

Despite being sandwiched between strangers, I did not feel alone.

An older woman beside me, who had flown in from the Philippines, gave me a friendship bracelet with beads spelling out “Swiftie” after she found out that I came in empty-handed, literally.

Inspired by the lyrics of Swift’s song, You’re On Your Own, Kid, from the 2022 album Midnights, fans have taken to making beaded bracelets to trade with one another.

The next 3½ hours took me through her nine different “eras” – all of which mean something to me – and saw me screaming lyrics to songs like Enchanted and All Too Well, to name just two.

What left a lasting mark on me that evening was the kindness and generosity of the fans and friends who cajoled me.

To my fellow Cat 100 Swifties that day, your encouragement gave me a night I never would have imagined, not even in my wildest dreams.

To the mysterious man who appeared in the rain, if you are somehow reading this, I want to say: Thank you.