The Memory Of An Exception: Part The Second.

As we stood backstage watching the other contestants and smiling furtively at each other as certain songs reminded us of inside jokes we'd cracked, he kept playfully punching my shoulder and telling me I was worrying too much. That I was simply going to kill it. And I told him that he shouldn't be this laid back about it because I was going to beat him hollow. (Which, of course I regretted later.) But he just narrowed his eyes and gave me a quirky grin saying. "We shall see." Even as I said it, my heart contracted in my chest. I didn't want to beat him hollow. I wanted him to feel that same joy of winning that I felt. But I wasn't going to tell him that. He already suspected I was going cookoo. Why give him a reason to confirm it. (I admit, I was being a bit crazy. Hysterical giggles when you're nervous, having cold water when you know you're going to sing...who does that ?! ) But our little quiet argument was thrown off guard, when one of the contestants before me sang a rendition of 'Rolling in the Deep' and probably made the hair on the back of the necks of everyone in the room stand. And also gave me a horrible complex. (Hey, I'm only human.) At that, a terrible cold washed over me. It never happened before, (I mean it did, though not this bad.) but it was happening now. I was almost in tears, clutching his arm and digging my nails into it. (I can't believe the masochistic fellow even willingly gave me his blasted hand!!) and telling him I couldn't do it. That I was gonna run out of the auditorium before the cold of the AC pricked through my skin and before the pressure of it all forced my knees to give way. But he was calm and smiling. That angelic smile that covered a storm in his eyes. Because he knew I couldn't do it. WOULDN'T do it. He knew me too well to worry that I would chicken out because I couldn't hit a high note or sing an emotionally 'angst-ridden' song. (What did I tell you about crazy?)
I hardly had time to do anything to compose myself when she was done and I was called on stage. I let go of his arm, (which I have a strong feeling was scratched and burning) took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. Everyone was cheering and screaming, but I could hardly hear them over the buzz in my ears from the tremble and coldness I felt inside. And then suddenly my father, bless him, out of nowhere screamed out my name and cheered. My head snapped up at that. My dad had seen him, had seen us on that stage together and he'd cheered. It seemed we were off to a good start. THAT, calmed me a wee bit and gave me the guts to introduce my song. I smiled to myself for a minute at the connection of it to me and that boy on stage and began.
I glided through the song effortlessly, closing my eyes when I felt I had to, in order to engulf myself in the song. I pulled all the emotions I needed, and placed it here and there around the song deftly and delicately. The auditorium faded away and it was just him, the song and me. I was living the tune. Breathing the words, feeling it. And he guided me brilliantly through it. He knew exactly where my voice rose like the tide and exactly where it fell into a whisper. I was aware of every note and every chord that he played. I was aware of his presence near me. It stood out like a single lily growing in a bed of red roses. All the pointers he gave me, the places that he felt needed my utmost concentration, I kept in mind. I had never been so aware of him before that moment. And then we were looming towards that high note. That note that would determine the fate of the entire song. I hesitated for a fraction of a second...but then knew I could do it. Because HE knew I could do it. He never doubted it even once. And it was my duty to prove him right. I wanted nothing more than to make him proud. When I was done and opened my eyes to see the crowd cheer, I looked over at him. Not until I saw that smile, did I realize I was holding my breath for it. For his reaction. He didn't look at me, but it was there. Written all over his face. His smile. 
For that moment, for that one single moment nothing mattered at all. Not the way the crowd cheered or the idea of winning or even the fact that the boy beside me didn't love me or feel the same way about me anymore but only cared for me like a friend should. All that mattered, was the smile on his face. That smile that echoed joy, that echoed respect and most importantly pride. For a while, a while that felt like a fraction of second, everything...EVERYTHING seemed to fall into place.

And then reality hit home.