I need you | akahina

pour

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Akaashi Keiji (23)

My parents don't love me the way a parent should love their child. My friends don't want to spend time with me the way friends should want to spend time with their friends. My classmates don't acknowledge me the way a classmate should be acknowledged.

I'm just something they can point at and eye like a kid in a candy store. I'm not someone who was once a child, a friend, or a classmate. I'm not human to them. I'm just a toy, just a doll.

Of course, I have a few friends, but they're off doing their own things, just as I am.

So, when my over-expecting parents tossed me into singing as a child, I did what a good toy does, and I behaved. For years, until I reached my second year in college, and transferred to a large, private university for the musically and vocally inclined.

Compared to how I lived my life prior to entering this university, everything was so... slow. Everyone was friendly and kind to me, yet I couldn't bring myself to accept their kindness. I was too scared that they would turn their backs on me if I did something unsatisfactory.

And I'd be left alone again—this time with a broken heart and unhealable trust.

I was alone, just going about my business. That was until someone forced their way into my monotonous world and never left.

It was a fresh summer afternoon when I met him—early April when the flowers were popping up and the rain was light and warm.

I had barely made it to stage 4 before a sudden warm drizzle began outside. A new position was open for a backup singer in the best band in the entire university, dubbed "Tangerines", and I was hoping I could snag the spot.

What makes them so good, or so I've heard, is the drum solos littered in their songs, and the powerful beat creating an easy rhythm for the lyrics to follow. I'm excited to hear it up close.

Upon entering the theater and walking through the backstage area, I noticed a few more people preparing themselves for the interview, maybe about ten. The man directing those who arrived held a clipboard with about ten papers worth of names on it, meaning there were a lot more people here before my arrival.

My anxiety increased. I needed this position to make my parents proud and to give me something to occupy myself. It'd lead to bigger opportunities for me, too, kickstarting my career as a singer.

I needed this, but... would someone like me really get the position? I know my singing is good, but surely there's someone better than me on that list.

A sharp screech jolted me out of my stupor before a deep, tired voice interrupted it, telling the one on stage to formally make her exit.

Maybe I stand a chance after all.

It wasn't long before my turn arose. I noticed that the people on stage were often interrupted mid-performance when it wasn't satisfactory, so I had the relief of knowing that if I wasn't good enough, I'd be told outright. I'd hate for them to beat around the bush, furthering my shame of not being enough.

No, I shouldn't visualize my failure so soon.

The lights were on me all too soon, the mic sitting a bit low for my tastes, so I carefully adjusted it before properly taking a look at the band members- judges- before me.

I quickly found out that the one shutting down the auditioners was a tall, built man with an alluring deep voice. The lead singer. He's not pleased at all, like many of the other members. A small ginger-haired male sat with his feet propped up on the table in front of him, tossing an eraser up in the air, only to catch it and repeat the process.