𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝, guy germaine

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 | good fortune

     THE WOOD PANELS BENEATH our feet were shined to a perfection as we walked over them. So shiny, in fact, I could see my reflection, my light hair curled to perfection today by the stylists and a lighter set of makeup on my face.

Today I was getting to sing onstage at the Ryman Auditorium, my dream venue.

"So when we announce you, you'll walk out and to this spot and sing." Mr. Tibbles woke me from my daydream, showing me where to stand. I just looked around, noticing the hundreds of seats and realizing that with the lights up, I wouldn't be able to see so much.

"After that, you'll come and sit back on one of these chairs where you can watch the team talk."
Guy went along with me as I saw the line of chairs just along the wings of the stage.

Today was yet another press conference for Team USA. Due to the increased interest in their time in Nashville, they added two new press conferences - one set for this afternoon for all the players, and another for this evening to act as a boost for their Coach and some of the lesser-discussed players. Guy only had to attend this one today, so this was the one I was invited to perform the national anthem for.

I didn't know anything about press conferences, but I felt it strange that they wanted someone to sing before it. But I guess being an ultra-American team, any additional patriotic thing they could do would only help.

I tried to act like I was focused on Mr. Tibbles, but I was too pre-occupied with merely performing that it was all too much to handle. Guy squeezed my hand sitting beside me in the set chairs.

"And Guy, you know I love any moment where you guys can look nice together, but I'd prefer you not get distracted by your lady. You'll be having a lot of questions asked, so please remember the answers we talked about."
"Okay, I will. Thanks Tibbles."
"Alright, you two have 20 minutes until the doors open, so Opal - you do whatever you need to be comfortable out there."
"Thank you sir." I sighed, slouching further in my seat. Mr. Tibbles walked away, and Guy snuck his arm around my hip.

"You sure you're okay? Did you have enough water?"
"I'm fine, I just... wow. I can't believe I get to perform here. I've always wanted to sing here, and now I finally will. This is my life's dream."
"But you're shaking!" He rubbed my arm as if I was cold.
"Easy to be nervous." I sighed, noticing my voice was shaking too. He stood up and I followed him to center stage, where he pushed me up toward where Mr. Tibbles told me to stand. From behind me, he had his arms around my waist, holding my hands.

"Close your eyes and picture it, Opal. The faces delighted to hear you, the light in your eyes, that warmth you feel when you sing. It's gonna feel great." Guy assured me, talking to me while I kept my eyes closed. "You'll capture their attention like you always do, and you'll make sure they can't ever forget you." He kissed my cheek then, running his thumb over my palm. I wasn't shaking so much anymore, though I still felt the anxiety brewing in me. I opened my eyes and flipped around, coming to hug him. He gladly accepted my affections, gently kissing my cheek again.

"Come on babe, lets go backstage." He took a gentle hold of my hand again, taking me off the other side and back to where the rest of the team was sure to be arriving soon. They had a nice "green room" with snacks and water, so Guy forced me to sit on a couch with a bottle of water and some crackers, concerned that my stomach was unsettled. He just held his arms around me, letting me know that if I needed anything I should just ask him. I numbed my mind and leaned up against his chest.

It easier to shut down for a few minutes rather than live in my anxiety. I had so much weighing on me all the time that it felt so good to pass it off to someone like Guy who was nice enough to take care of it (even though he had no idea about any of the things I considered "weight.")