My song ends and I head to the piano as Emme adjusts the microphone.
I look at her and know exactly what she’s going through. Although I only had to face a group of about twenty people at our first gig. She is looking out toward hundreds of administrators, talent scouts, and prestigious alumni.
But for me, these guys having my back gave me the courage to do it. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the desire to be a “front man” again without them behind me.
Emme glances at me and gives me a little nod as she starts playing her song. We all join in and I can hardly breathe as we approach the first verse.
She sings the first line and her voice is quivering and soft. A knot forms in my stomach. The next line is louder, but the shaking comes through a lot stronger.
You can do this, Emme. Please believe that you can do it. Please, Emme.
There is a four-bar break and she steps away from the mic and I see her nodding now, trying to get into the song. If I could stop the song to give her a pep talk, I would. But it’s all in her hands now.
She approaches the microphone again for the second verse. She opens her mouth and a loud, clear voice comes out. I see some people sit up a little straighter in the audience.
I smile as I close my eyes and take in her voice. She’s got this. I try to concentrate on the chords, but I’m absolutely spellbound by her. I let the hours of practice take over, and go into automatic mode so I can witness her transformation to the lead.
The instrumental break comes and she turns around to us and she’s beaming. She smiles at me and my heart nearly bursts.
She sings the chorus once more and then the last note hangs in the air.
We get applause, greater than we did when we arrived onstage, but not the rousing ovation we’ve gotten in the past. This crowd is a little tougher.
Plus, we are performing for the possibilities of building our futures. Not to entertain our grandparents.
The four of us take center stage, link hands, and bow.
As we head offstage, I notice that Emme still has my hand … but she also has Jack’s.
As soon as we get offstage, Emme whispers to me, “I botched the first verse.”
“But you killed the rest of the song,” I assure her.
She squeezes my hand. “You were really great.”
I see Jack walk away to get a hug from Chloe. Emme’s hand is still in mine.
“So were you. I didn’t know you had such a big voice.”
She blushes. “Oh, well, I figured I had to do something, so I went with loud.”
“It suits Jack well.”
She laughs. Then looks down and it seems like it’s the first time she’s noticing that she’s holding my hand.
“Oh, sorry.” She lets go.
I want to grab it back from her. I want to grab her. But I don’t. I can be a complete idiot at times, but I like to think that I’ve learned from the mistake of attacking her after the “Beat It” performance.
Instead I sit there silently as I watch her get approached by other students.
I hear a few words of congratulations thrown my way, but I don’t feel like celebrating.
I envisioned being done with the showcase as this momentous occasion. We’d get a standing ovation and the four of us would leave the stage and get in a group huddle. Tell each other how incredible we were and block out the rest of the world. Then when we broke up the huddle, Emme would look at me and realize how much I mean to her. I’d confess my love for her, she’d realize her true feelings for me, and we’d be together.
But instead, we’re all separated, talking to other people.
The showcase is over, my life is the same.
Nothing is going to change her feelings.
In a few short months, this part of my life will be done. We’ll all be going our separate ways.
I’m an idiot for thinking that one performance would change anything.
Maybe I should stop writing songs and start writing fiction.
Emme
I can’t find Ethan anywhere. I’ve been searching the post-showcase reception and he’s nowhere to be found.
Last time he disappeared, he ended up in the hospital. I get out my phone to text him, when I’m approached by a balding man in a suit.
“Excuse me, young lady, you were tremendous.” He hands me his business card. “I oversee a performing arts summer camp for ages eight and up. We’re looking for counselors to do music programs.”
“Oh, thanks.” He pats me on the back before he approaches Trevor with his card out.
I text Ethan and hear Mr. North call out my name. He comes over and shakes my hand. “That was fantastic. How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“Making any connections?”
I shake my head. “Do you know who the Juilliard and Berklee representatives are?”
“They don’t come to the reception. All the heavy hitters have left. These are people usually looking for interns, summer help, free food …”
“Dan!” A woman in a gray suit calls out to Mr. North.
“And the alumni who want to relive their glory years. Duty calls….”
He heads toward the woman, and Tyler approaches me.
“You were really great tonight.” He gives me a quick hug.
“Thanks, so were you.”
He shrugs. “Well, Sarah and I have been practicing for months on the song. So …”
We both nod and I don’t think it could be any more awkward. I want to tell him that I like him, that I’m sorry things have been crazy, but truthfully, things are going to get even worse now that college auditions are next.
I get a text on my phone and it’s from Ethan.
“Oh, I, um …”
Tyler sees my screen. “No, of course. I think I need to work this room more than you anyway. Have a good one.” He walks away from me, and I stay frozen for a few seconds. I take one more look around the reception before I head out.
Ethan is sitting on the steps outside.
“Hey.”
He looks up at me. “Hey.”
I sit down next to him. “It’s a little cold out….”
He nods.
I can tell there is something wrong with him, but I have no idea what. He did amazing tonight; he always does. He can be too critical of his performance, but I was getting the feeling he didn’t really care too much about the showcase.
“Well, tonight’s been a letdown,” I say to him.
He looks at me with a weird expression.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s just I feel the exact same way.”
“Sort of anticlimactic, huh?”
“Yeah, they’ve built up the showcase since freshman year and it’s done. And …” He lets his last word hang in the air.
“I thought we’d be swarmed by all these admissions people from Juilliard or the Manhattan School of Music. All I have is a pocket full of business cards with offers to teach music lessons. Which is a compliment, but still …”
He doesn’t respond.
“You know what I can’t help thinking about?” He stays silent. “These seashells that Sophie gives me … I guess used to give me every summer. Maybe we’ve been making too much out of the showcase because really our journey isn’t done yet. We’ve been focusing so much on getting there that we haven’t been enjoying the ride.”
I’m not sure I’m making any sense.
“I forget who said it, but it was something like ‘focus on the journey, not the destination.’ You know what I’m going to remember most about CPA? It’s not the showcase, it’s being with you guys, our rehearsals, Jack’s crazy tales of our ultimate demises — everything.”