Rewound {PTX}

Rehearsal

I feel like an impostor with the rest of the band, just as out of place as the person hiding behind a camera and recording everything. I'm not quite the same Mitch that Kevin, Kirstie, Avi, and Scott know, and they aren't quite the same people I know now either. They're simultaneously familiar and distant, and it's unnerving. "Good morrow, esteemed and talented vocalists!" Avi greets.

"Yo, waddup!" Kevin laughs back.

"Yo. What is up," Avi enunciates.

"So it is," I nod solemnly. They laugh like it's the first time I've said that, and for them, it is. I don't know what's happening. This isn't just a prank, and with every passing minute, I become less and less sure it's a dream. I need to get back. I can't even begin to figure out how, though. I'm just going to ignore it and hope it fixes itself. It's not how I usually deal with problems, but what else am I supposed to do? Build a time machine? I just have to hope I'll wake up in 2015 tomorrow morning. In the mean time, I'm going to pretend everything is okay and focus on getting this performance perfect so I don't drive myself crazy.

Maybe I'm already crazy. Isn't it more likely that I've lost touch with reality than that this is really happening? If I am insane, then it's not just a little bit. I must have had a complete mental breakdown. If there's even the tiniest chance this isn't all in my head, though, I'm not going to screw it all up for my friends. Even if it is all in my head, like in a coma or hallucination, I don't want to mess it up for myself either. I don't know how long I'll be stuck here.

This morning's experiment with Scott proved I have to do things the hard way. I can't control reality here the way I can in a lucid dream. If I'm going to win, I have to focus today. I'm finding that difficult to do while I'm trapped in my nineteen-year-old self's life, but this is important. It's the pivotal performance, the one that determines who wins. The polls open when it's aired.

"Both songs from the top," Scott says. Both? Oh. Both. In my confusion, I forgot about the Kelly Clarkson/CeeLo Green mashup we have to perform tonight. On top of that, there's a group medley with the other teams that I need to completely relearn before the show. I'm going to die. I don't even remember what songs are in it. I can't do this. I'm frozen in place, but the others take their positions around me without seeming to notice. "One, two, three, four!" Avi's begins with the bass and whoops there goes my cue. Kirstie elbows me and I join her a bar late.

I actually know this song. I even know the choreography. We stopped performing this ages ago, but as soon as we found out we'd be touring with Kelly this summer, we picked it back up. It doesn't sound right, though. Kirstie's part isn't strong enough. When we're done singing, though, it's not her they're all staring at, but me. "What was that?" she asks.

"That was actually really cool," Kevin says.

"Yeah, I guess." Kirstie sounds hesitant.

I put a hand on her arm. "What is it?"

"You kinda abandoned me."

"Oh, sh...oot." I glance at the camera. "I'm sorry. I was singing the wrong version, wasn't I?" We rearranged the song a bit when we revived it. Our voices and our collective sound have developed a lot since... now. Kirstie has/will have a more powerful, more present voice, which will free me up to sing a third part. In our old/current version, our backup parts are practically identical, and with a few exceptions, I'm usually singing exactly the same notes as her or Scott.

"We only have one version," Avi says. "That did sound cool, though."

"I wish we had an extra voice so we could include both," Kevin laments.

"Kirstie," Scott says, "you could just sing your part louder. It's basically-"

"No," I interrupt. She's not ready for that yet, and now is not the time push her. "It was stupid of me to change it on the very last day. I'm just mixed up. I'm sorry." We can't change the song. It could change the outcome of the whole competition.