Saving Me: Ruinene

Shattered Spotlight (15)

Rui

It's been a few weeks since that incident on the rooftop, and while I'm not exactly back to normal, I'm getting there. The darkness that's weighed me down has loosened a little. Thanks to her. She doesn't know it, but she saved me that day.

Now, I owe her everything.

The rain feels like a distant memory as I walk into the auditorium. The school's musical is performing tonight, and though I haven't had the energy to perform myself, I promised I'd be here to support her.

I find a seat near the back, out of sight but with a clear vision of the stage. I don't want to distract her by being to close. She's worked hard for this, and I know she's got this. She always does.

The lights dim, and the show starts.

At first, everything seems fine. Nene comes on stage, her movements smooth and confident, like always. But as the play goes on, something starts to feel... off. I can't quite put my finger on it at first, but there's this growing tension in the air, this awkward silence.

Nene

The lights are bright— too bright. Blinding, almost. My heart pounds so loud I'm sure the audience can hear it. I try to take deep breaths, but the knot on my stomach twists tighter, like it always does before a show.

This is it. This is the moment I've been rehearsing over and over for. I-I'm supposed to be ready.

But I don't feel ready. Not even close.

As I step onto the stage, everything feels wrong. The props, the costumes, even the lines I've memorized over a thousand times feel foreign. I can see the audience out of the corner of my eye— faces I don't know, staring, waiting for me. But there's only one face I kept searching for.

Rui.

Is he here? What if he's watching...? What if I mess up?

I start the scene, forcing myself to speak. My voice wobbles a bit, but I manage to keep going. At least for a little while. But then, out of nowhere, the line escapes me. It's like it vanishes from my brain, leaving nothing but empty space.

My throat closes up, and the silence stretches on. I can feel the other actors looking at me, trying to save the scene, but their voices seem distant, like they're underwater. All I can hear is my own breathing, getting faster and faster.

I can't remember.

My vision blurs, and all I want to do is disappear. This can't be happening. Not again. Not like the finale I messed up when we were kids.

I've ruined everything...

I somehow stumble through the rest of the show, but I'm not really there. It's all a blur— people's voices, the music, the movement. I'm disconnected, like I'm watching something else fall apart.

As the curtains fall, I bolt. I can't face anyone, not after that disaster. I'm not going to the locker room; I don't want to hear what they're going to say.

But even as I walk away, I hear many conversations.

"Did you see her freeze? What a joke."

"We seriously worked so hard for this show just for it to be ruined by someone stupid?!"

"She's never going to make it if she keeps doing that. Honestly, she just quit."

Their words cut deep. My stomach twists painfully. It feels like I can't breathe.

Maybe they're right.

Maybe I should just quit.

Quit being someone that already exists... quit trying to be like that mermaid...

Why do I keep messing up? Why can't I get things right for once?

I clench my hands into fists, staring at the ground. My social anxiety always seems to get the better of me when it matters most, and now... it feels like I'm spiraling.

All I can think about is how I ruined the show and how everyone must've hated me for it. How I'm such a burden.