I’m posting the entire story again because the beautiful http://barranquillera-shaki.tumblr.com/ did an amazing proof read and now I think is perfect! Thanks a lot for helping me so much, I appreciate it<3
If you read it earlier, I suggest you read it again and see how awesome is it now!
Thanks a lot for understanding, and a big hug to you all!
-All of this is fiction, even though we all wish it was true!-
_________________________________________________________
Shakira POV
Ending a relationship isn’t easy. Even less so when we have to hide it from the public eye to protect the image of another person, but as it is with most news, this will start spreading like wildfire. It’s been six months since Antonio and I went our separate ways and by now the pain should have ebbed at least a bit since I’ve done all but the impossible to forget it and focus on the one constant in my life: my career. However, this depression continues to hang over my head like a dark, ominous cloud. I don’t think seeing him in the news today - apparently, he’s now engaged to the supermodel he cheated on me with (I don’t think anything he does surprises me anymore, honestly) - helped my mood much, but that’s just me. I thank God for one thing and that is that now I’m finally free of the lies and the silly notions of one day having a child with Antonio. I’m now 28 years old and at this age if you’re still stubborn enough to stand by your dream of being a singer, the usual response you’ll get from most people is “if you were ever going to make it, you’d have made it already.” The thing is, there’s something called fighting for your dreams and I’ll continue to fight for this one.
A girl needs a break eventually, though - being stubborn does take its’ toll - and so I take one at Starbucks, drinking espresso like a proper American would. This coffee will never come close to the heaven in a cup that is my homeland Colombia’s coffee, but living in the United States as I have been you seem to develop a taste for this place anyway. Lately, I can’t seem to function without it and so as I sip, I spot an ad promoting auditions for The Voice and I think to myself, “Why not? What have I got to lose?” It looks like the deadline for auditions is within 24 hours, however, so what can I send?
I race home and do my best to create a makeshift tripod, my small blackberry’s camera barely balancing on a few books, and then I start to sing. One of my own songs because who can sing it better than me? I strum the guitar and in a few seconds I feel like I’m weightless, soaring high above all of my troubles where they can’t reach. This is the only way in which everything can just disappear for a couple of moments; it’s just me and the music.
-Set of The Voice -
Here I am. I’m through to the next stage although they changed the song I’d audition with since I evidently didn’t get the memo that the contestants can only perform covers. The worst part is that I ended up with No Doubt’s “Underneath It All”. Yeaaah, I don’t think that my current state of emotions is all that suitable for singing that song right now. Nerves are beginning to get the best of me. I probably appear a little comical standing at barely 5’2”, looking slightly disheveled with a pink electric guitar in my hands. Generally, you tend to see that kind of thing with the younger crowd. Most of the contestants came with their families and friends, but I didn’t want to call my mother just to be trapped into a conversation without end about my separation and my feelings of which I don’t feel like speaking about over and over.
Oh no. It’s my turn. Has anyone ever passed out while making their way to the stage before because I feel like I might be the first. Something strikes me in a sheer moment of bundled nervous energy. I know I should sing the cover, but my instincts pull me another way. I tell the producers that I’ll go on with just my guitar and nothing else at the very last moment. They’re about as confused as I am anxious, but there’s no time for discussions. It’s time.Deep breath before the plunge.
