Voice Of An Angel || Bill Kaulitz

o n e

"It's just a gig, Abi," I tell myself as I look in the mirror. I've done this many times before. There's no reason to get nervous now, but something feels different about tonight. My hands shake a little more than usual. The lights seem a little brighter than usual. I stare at my reflection in the mirror a little longer than usual.

"Come on, they're ready for you!" a loud voice calls from behind the door. I clear my throat and walk out of the bathroom. I nod a thank you to the guy that runs the bar.

When I walk on stage the light is blinding and stuns me for a second. I pull my skirt down and walk over to the microphone. "How's everyone doing tonight?" I say into the microphone.

The people in the bar yell a mix of "goods" and "greats." I take a big gulp of air and announce my setlist. My setlist isn't anything out of the ordinary, mostly simple songs people know, but tonight I've decided to close with an original song. It's my first time performing an original, so the bar cheers a little bit louder.

As I set up the chair and my guitar, I can't help but feel my nerves slowly eating their way to the surface of my head. This is just like every performance I've done. I can't tell what's tearing me up about this one. The crowd hushes as I get ready, and I begin to strum my guitar. Once the music hits my ears, all of my nerves float away and it's just me and the music.

I carefully sing each word and let my voice carry me away. As I drift away, I picture myself on a giant stage with flashing lights. I imagine a stadium full of people watching me. The people sparkle in the lights and sing along with me. That's where I need to be. That's where I belong.

The song subsides and I ground myself with the cheers of the bar. Everyone cheers and whistles and I smile brightly. "Who's ready for the next song?" I yell with a smile. The bar erupts in cheers and I laugh. I strum my guitar loudly and start the next song.

Each song goes by quicker than the other. I let the music and stage consume me. I work the audience to keep everyone entertained and comfortable. Between songs, I ask questions and even told a little story that happened earlier that day. The night flew by and now it's time for me to close with my original song.

My nerves stay hidden and far away from the surface, but they're secretly eating me up inside. For a second I debate taking my guitar and running away, but I know performing this song could be a great opportunity for me. So, despite all my nerves, I begin to play the chords on my guitar, which I so carefully practiced each night.

Each word that leaves my mouth is one crack to the nervousness blanketing me. Every word and note comes with more and more ease. The music comes from me and floats away into the bar. I don't think I've ever enjoyed performing this much. That says a lot considering I always put my whole heart and soul into every performance I give.

As soon as I finish my song the bar erupts in cheering louder than ever. I take a bow and laugh, smiling in the moment. I feel a tear roll down my cheek and caress my neck. I quickly walk off-stage with my guitar in hand, looking for my mom in the crowd. People in the bar shower me with compliments and I can't help but feel a little shy. I feel my cheeks heat up and a smile creeps onto my face.

While looking at each table, I finally see a familiar face. It's not my mom's, but my friend Alissa's. I run up to her, and she greets me with a tight hug. "You were awesome Abi!" she cheers.

"Thank you. I was honestly pretty scared today," I respond. I smile at her and she smiles back. Her eyes light up like she thought of something. "Oh no, what does that mean?" I question hesitantly.

"Don't worry! It's nothing bad," she exclaims, "It's something good!" I look at her confused and make a hand gesture, telling her to get on with it. "Have you heard of that band called Tokio Hotel?" she asks.