It's Like Music In My Ears

CHAPTER 11: THE STAGE

The morning of the competition arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves and excitement. My parents and Amber wished me good luck, their words of encouragement ringing in my ears as I prepared for the day. Amber’s advice from last night echoed in my mind, reminding me to stay calm and focus on the present. With a deep breath, I headed to the competition venue.

The auditorium was buzzing with energy when I arrived. The air was thick with anticipation, and competitors, their families, and audience members were milling about, each carrying their own blend of hope and anxiety. I found a quiet corner to center myself before the competition began.

The performances started on time, with the cellists taking the stage first. Norman and Maureen were the first performers, and as Norman began his piece, the room was enveloped in the rich, deep tones of his cello. He played with a passion that was palpable, but halfway through his performance, something went terribly wrong.

Norman suddenly collapsed on stage. Gasps filled the room, and chaos ensued. Medics rushed to his aid, and the audience’s collective concern was almost tangible. The commotion was unsettling, and it took a moment for the room to settle. The announcement soon followed—Norman had been taken to the hospital. The disruption cast a somber shadow over the competition, and the atmosphere was heavy with worry.

Despite the disruption, the show had to continue. Maureen, the last cellist, was called to perform. She approached the stage with a look of resolve, her performance marked by an emotional depth that resonated with the audience. Her cello wept and sang, each note filled with the tension and sadness of the morning’s events. The performance was a poignant reminder of the day’s challenges, and the audience watched in hushed silence.

As I watched from the sidelines, my thoughts were a whirlwind. The unexpected turn of events had added an extra layer of anxiety to an already tense day. I was set to perform last, after Melody. My nerves were on edge, and I struggled to focus on what lay ahead.

Jace found me backstage, his expression serious. “You holding up okay?” he asked, his concern evident.

I nodded, though the heaviness of the day weighed on me. “Yeah, just trying to stay focused. It’s been a rough start.”

Jace offered a reassuring smile. “You’ve got this. Just go out there and play like you know how.”

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my nerves. With the performances continuing and Melody’s looming, I knew I needed to remain focused. The day had been anything but predictable, and the challenge ahead felt monumental.

Maureen’s performance concluded, and the stage was set for the next act. The competition was far from over, and the outcome was still uncertain. I prepared myself for the final stretch of the day, ready to face whatever lay ahead with determination and hope.

The hours ticked by slowly as I waited for the next performances. My mind was still reeling from the morning's events, but I tried to focus on the music. I watched as the other competitors took the stage, each performance a testament to their skill and dedication. Yet, my thoughts were consumed by the upcoming act—Melody’s performance.

When Melody’s turn finally arrived, the auditorium seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. As she walked onto the stage, the crowd erupted into applause, and I watched her every move with a mixture of admiration and anxiety. The way she carried herself, the confidence in her stride—it all added to the gravity of the moment. The piano was her domain, and she took to it with an elegance that seemed almost effortless.

As she began to play, the notes flowed with a grace that left me spellbound. Her fingers danced over the keys, producing a sound that was both haunting and beautiful. The piece she performed was filled with emotion, and I could see how deeply she was immersed in the music. It was clear that this was more than just a competition for her—it was a true expression of her soul.

Watching her, I couldn’t help but think back to when we first met. The early days of our rivalry, the way we had slowly built a strange sort of friendship, and the times we spent together at the library and in practice. It had been a rollercoaster, filled with moments of tension and camaraderie. Seeing her now, I felt a pang of nostalgia and a bittersweet sense of appreciation for the journey we had shared.

When her performance came to a close, the entire audience erupted into applause. I joined in, clapping enthusiastically, even as my heart was a tumult of emotions. Melody had given a flawless performance, and it was clear that she had left everything on the stage. Her face, a mix of relief and satisfaction, was a testament to her dedication.

As the applause subsided and the stage was reset for the final act, I took a moment to center myself. The weight of the competition, the emotions of the day, and the significance of this moment all pressed heavily on me. I knew that my performance was the last chance to make an impression, and the pressure was immense.

The moment finally arrived. I took the stage, the spotlight hitting me as I walked to the piano. The audience’s gaze was fixed on me, and I could feel the intensity in the air. I sat down, my fingers poised over the keys, and took a deep breath.

I started my piece, the notes flowing as I played through the familiar melody. But as the performance progressed, I felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. The day's events, my thoughts about Melody, and the sheer weight of the moment were too much to bear. Instinctively, I stopped playing.

The silence that followed was palpable, the audience holding their breath in anticipation. Without thinking, I began to play a different piece—Frank Ocean’s "Godspeed." The melody of the song, combined with the raw emotion of the moment, felt like a natural expression of everything I was feeling.

As I played, I started to sing softly, my voice trembling with the emotion I could no longer contain. “I will always love you, how I do…” The lyrics seemed to capture everything I had been trying to express—my feelings for Melody, my regret, and my hope for forgiveness.

The audience was silent, captivated by the unexpected turn in my performance. I could see Melody in the crowd, her eyes wide as she listened. I continued with the lyrics, the words flowing out of me like a confession.

“I’d let go of my claim on you, it’s a free world…”

The sentiment of the song was raw and honest, reflecting the turmoil and regret I felt. As I sang those lines, the meaning of the words resonated deeply. I was letting go of my claim, acknowledging the freedom she deserved, and expressing my sincerest apologies.

"The table is prepared for you..."

The performance was far from conventional, but it felt right. The song, with its poignant lyrics and haunting melody, seemed to resonate with the audience. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the emotional weight of the song, created a powerful atmosphere.

"Wishing you Godspeed, glory
there will be mountainsyou wont move.."

As I played and sang, I hoped that the sincerity of my emotions would come through. The performance wasn’t over, but as the notes of "Godspeed" continued to fill the auditorium, I could feel the connection between my music and the feelings I had been trying to convey.