Silent Harmonies

Chapter 3

The Weight of Expectations

The SPAC music hall was alive with the sounds of voices blending, harmonizing, and occasionally clashing as the choir rehearsed for the upcoming "Hugyaw" event. The pressure was mounting, with the performance just two weeks away. Migs sat among his fellow choir members, his sheet music clutched in his hands, but his mind was elsewhere.

Ms. Santos, the choir director, stood at the front, guiding them through a particularly challenging piece. Her sharp eyes caught every mistake, every hesitation, and Migs could feel her gaze on him more than once. He knew he wasn’t at his best today—his focus was slipping, and he struggled to keep up.

As the choir reached the crescendo of the song, Migs missed his cue. His voice faltered, causing a ripple of disruption through the group. Ms. Santos immediately stopped them, her expression stern.

“Migs, you’re a beat behind. Let’s take it from the top,” she instructed, her tone firm but not unkind.

Migs nodded, his heart sinking. The other choir members exchanged glances, and a few whispers floated through the room. Jay, standing beside him, gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but Migs barely registered it.

They started again, and this time Migs tried to push his thoughts aside, focusing on the music. But it was no use. His mind kept drifting—worrying about the performance, about letting everyone down, about Reina. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, the pressure was overwhelming.

Finally, after another mistake, Migs felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. He mumbled an apology and quickly excused himself, slipping out of the music hall before anyone could stop him.

Outside, the air was cool and refreshing against his flushed skin. Migs walked briskly across campus, not really knowing where he was going, just needing to get away. He finally found a quiet spot near a grove of trees, a place where he could be alone with his thoughts.

He sat down on a bench, his head in his hands. The weight of everything pressed down on him—the upcoming performance, the expectations, the fear of failure. And then there was Reina. Ever since their duet at the Sabbath service, she’d been on his mind more than he wanted to admit. But the choir’s rules, the pressure of the upcoming event—it all made everything more complicated.

“Migs?”

He looked up, startled to hear a familiar voice. Standing a few feet away was Reina, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Oh, Reina… sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Migs said, quickly wiping at his eyes, though he hadn’t been crying.

“It’s okay,” she replied, stepping closer. “I saw you leave practice. Are you okay?”

Migs hesitated, unsure of how much to share. But there was something comforting about Reina’s presence, something that made him want to open up.

“I’m just… struggling a bit,” he admitted, his voice low. “There’s a lot of pressure with ‘Hugyaw’ coming up, and I feel like I’m letting everyone down. I can’t seem to focus.”

Reina nodded, taking a seat on the bench beside him. “It’s understandable. It’s a big event, and you’re new to the choir. Pero hindi mo dapat sisihin ang sarili mo, Migs. Everyone has off days.”

Migs sighed, feeling a small weight lift from his shoulders just by talking about it. “I don’t know. It’s like… the more I try to focus, the harder it gets. And then, there’s everything else going on… It’s just too much.”

Reina glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. “Alam mo, when I get overwhelmed, I try to remember why I love music in the first place. Madaling makalimutan ‘yun when you’re stressed. Maybe you just need to reconnect with that feeling.”

Migs looked at her, surprised by the insight. “You’re right… I’ve been so caught up in worrying about the performance that I forgot why I joined the choir to begin with.”

Reina smiled softly. “Music is supposed to bring joy, not stress. Maybe you just need a break to clear your head.”

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the tension in Migs’s chest slowly easing. Reina’s presence was calming, and her words echoed in his mind. She was right—he needed to remember why he loved music, why he chose to be part of this choir. It wasn’t about perfection or meeting expectations; it was about the joy of singing, the peace it brought him.

“Thank you, Reina,” Migs said, feeling genuinely grateful. “I needed to hear that.”

She smiled, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. “Anytime, Migs. And don’t worry about the practice. You’ll do great at ‘Hugyaw.’ I’m sure of it.”

Migs nodded, feeling a newfound sense of determination. “I hope so. I’ll just take it one step at a time.”

They sat for a few more moments, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Finally, Migs stood up, feeling a bit lighter than he had before. “I should probably head back to practice.”

“Good idea,” Reina agreed, standing up as well. “And remember, you’re not alone. Magkakasama tayo dito.”

Migs smiled, genuinely this time. “I’ll remember that.”

As he walked back to the music hall, Migs felt different. The pressure was still there, but it didn’t feel as suffocating. Reina’s words had given him a new perspective—a reminder that music was meant to be enjoyed, not feared.

When he re-entered the practice room, the other choir members glanced at him, some with concern, others with understanding. Ms. Santos gave him a brief nod, acknowledging his return without making a big deal out of it.

Migs took his place beside Jay, who gave him a questioning look. Migs just nodded, signaling that he was okay. They started the song again, and this time, Migs focused not on the pressure, but on the music itself. He let himself get lost in the melody, in the harmonies of his friends around him.

And for the first time that day, everything fell into place. His voice was steady, confident, and on cue. The choir sounded better than ever, and Migs felt a surge of satisfaction. He could do this—he would do this, not just for himself, but for the love of music, and for the friends who believed in him.