I was panicking. I was on my way to the competition and I was panicking. REAL BAD. To make things worse, there was traffic and I was worried that I was running late. And you can't walk into a competition late!! Everybody knows that !! So. Panicking.
When I finally got there, (I wasn't late, thank Heavens!) the place was complete chaos. Everybody was all over the place getting their participation numbers and rehearsing and getting their act together. I had no idea where to go. So I texted him. He replied back saying they were in one of the classrooms. Even though it was a simple one, reading his text, despite everything that had happened between us. Despite the fact that it was over and we were trying to be friends, gave me butterflies in my stomach and sent shivers down my spine. But now wasn't the time to think about that. I had to get to the classroom and fast.
The previous night, while preparing my song, gargling with hot water and thrusting honey down my throat, I did some over-thinking. Word of advice: Over-thinking is a bad BAD thing. Especially while you're having pre-show jitters. I was nervous, my mind was wandering and to my utter misfortune, it latched itself onto the first thing it found in my head. Him. Well...the competition and him. Not only was he my accompanist, but he was participating as well. Which meant he was competition for me. And good competition not to mention. So was I worried that he would screw up my song? Of course not. I knew him like the back of my hand. He would never do that. If there was anyone who was psychotically obsessed with wanting me to win, it was him. No. That was the least of my problems. What was driving me crazy was the fact that there was a possibility that one of us could lose. Part of me-the selfish part-didn't want to lose. I mean, c'mon. Who does! But the other part, the one that knew how good and talented he was didn't want to win if it meant he would lose. I wanted him to win just as much as I wanted myself to win. It didn't help that the song I'd picked,(he'd picked actually and I'd reluctantly agreed.) was an emotional one that contained history. So basically I was going to sing a song under the constant fear that at any point, it would hit home, my voice would crack and the song would blow. Like I said. Over-thinking =BAD IDEA. Oh, and the cherry on top? Not everyone knew that he was playing for me. (Everyone meaning my dad, and everyone knows how daddies can be.) Given our history, we thought it better to just go with it and not blow it out of proportion. So his reaction was something I was unwillingly and fearfully looking forward to.
As we made our way to the auditorium now, all these thoughts that haunted me the previous night deviously made its way into my head. I was feeling so much at once, I didn't know if I was going to die of excitement or be sick to my stomach. I was scared of the song, of being on that stage with him again. I was terrified of hitting that high note. I knew I could do it, but at the same time I was afraid that I couldn't.
While sitting in the green room and mentally preparing myself, I looked over at him as he sat there in that black shirt and practiced his song. People were wishing him as they were wishing me and teasingly asking me if I was worried that he would change key in the middle of the song. And there wasn't a single hint of hesitation in my voice when I laughed and told them I wasn't. He looked up at me, gave me a smile that held a promise and went back to playing. When he was called up to the stage, as he performed I stood in the shadows smiling and saying a simple silent litany: "Please. Please let him win. He deserves this."
When I finally got there, (I wasn't late, thank Heavens!) the place was complete chaos. Everybody was all over the place getting their participation numbers and rehearsing and getting their act together. I had no idea where to go. So I texted him. He replied back saying they were in one of the classrooms. Even though it was a simple one, reading his text, despite everything that had happened between us. Despite the fact that it was over and we were trying to be friends, gave me butterflies in my stomach and sent shivers down my spine. But now wasn't the time to think about that. I had to get to the classroom and fast.
The previous night, while preparing my song, gargling with hot water and thrusting honey down my throat, I did some over-thinking. Word of advice: Over-thinking is a bad BAD thing. Especially while you're having pre-show jitters. I was nervous, my mind was wandering and to my utter misfortune, it latched itself onto the first thing it found in my head. Him. Well...the competition and him. Not only was he my accompanist, but he was participating as well. Which meant he was competition for me. And good competition not to mention. So was I worried that he would screw up my song? Of course not. I knew him like the back of my hand. He would never do that. If there was anyone who was psychotically obsessed with wanting me to win, it was him. No. That was the least of my problems. What was driving me crazy was the fact that there was a possibility that one of us could lose. Part of me-the selfish part-didn't want to lose. I mean, c'mon. Who does! But the other part, the one that knew how good and talented he was didn't want to win if it meant he would lose. I wanted him to win just as much as I wanted myself to win. It didn't help that the song I'd picked,(he'd picked actually and I'd reluctantly agreed.) was an emotional one that contained history. So basically I was going to sing a song under the constant fear that at any point, it would hit home, my voice would crack and the song would blow. Like I said. Over-thinking =BAD IDEA. Oh, and the cherry on top? Not everyone knew that he was playing for me. (Everyone meaning my dad, and everyone knows how daddies can be.) Given our history, we thought it better to just go with it and not blow it out of proportion. So his reaction was something I was unwillingly and fearfully looking forward to.
As we made our way to the auditorium now, all these thoughts that haunted me the previous night deviously made its way into my head. I was feeling so much at once, I didn't know if I was going to die of excitement or be sick to my stomach. I was scared of the song, of being on that stage with him again. I was terrified of hitting that high note. I knew I could do it, but at the same time I was afraid that I couldn't.
While sitting in the green room and mentally preparing myself, I looked over at him as he sat there in that black shirt and practiced his song. People were wishing him as they were wishing me and teasingly asking me if I was worried that he would change key in the middle of the song. And there wasn't a single hint of hesitation in my voice when I laughed and told them I wasn't. He looked up at me, gave me a smile that held a promise and went back to playing. When he was called up to the stage, as he performed I stood in the shadows smiling and saying a simple silent litany: "Please. Please let him win. He deserves this."
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