Crescendo {COMPLETED}

One

My agent, Bert, meets me as I enter the backstage area. The crew is bustling around, getting ready to shut the place down for the night after the people leave. The stage manager, Diane, is directing people here and there in hushed tones, making sure that the audience can't hear her words. There's no need, though. They are still clapping so loudly that I'd be surprised if they could even hear their own thoughts. I know they want an encore, but there won't be one. Bert is adamant about that.
Bert takes me by the shoulder and leads me towards a corner of the room, away from the fuss. "That was okay," he says, his eyes boring into me like drills, his hair perfectly styled as if he's just been to the salon. "But you need some work."
My performing euphoria fades quickly, replaced by disbelief. "Okay?" I ask, my eyebrows shooting up under my fashionable bangs. "I rocked the place!"
Bert sighs. "How would you know? You're only thirteen."
I don't even give him a response, just turn on my heel and glide across the room towards the door, my gait one of long practiced performance. The silly cardigan that my aunt urged me to put on is itching me horribly, and I pull it off violently. My short heels click on the hard linoleum.
Just as I reach the door, an arm shoots out in front of me. "You can't go out there." Sophie says. "You'll be trampled for autographs." I look down at the small girl, only a year younger than me but at least six inches shorter. She's my only friend in this swirling world of uncertainty, my only rock in a turbulent sea. Being my solitary roadie, she knows me like she knows her own closet.
I sigh. I know she's right. I can't venture into the throng alone. And I'm definitely not taking Bert with me. "I just need to get away." I tell her. It's true. I can't deal with anything right now. I just need to be alone.
"Alright." She says. She stops and thinks for a minute. "There's a hidden door in the back that I found a while ago when I was looking for Porter earlier. No one else knows about it, I don't think." Porter is our hamster. He's constantly escaping, and John, our driver, is always threatening to drop him off at the nearest pet store. We know he doesn't mean it, since he was the one who picked him up for Sophie at the SPCA last year.
I smile gratefully at Sophie. She's always one step ahead of me. "I'll be back in half an hour." I promise. "Try to keep Bert from having a bird, okay? We can only handle so many pets."
She grins at me, looking less twelve years old than ten. "See you later."

A minute later, I'm breathing the dank air of Prince George, just another city on my long British Columbia tour. Stepping outside the door of the high school into the parking lot, I regret taking my cardigan off. It's chilly out here. I consider going back to get my sweater, but decide I'll just stick it out.
Goosebumps are already forming as I cross the highway, looking both ways for cars. It wouldn't be good for me to get hit now, with my tour only half finished. So far, we've visited seven northern BC towns, and now we're heading down south for the final seven towns of my four-week tour, with a performance every other day.
The parking lot of what I can only assume is a mall is silent, with only a few cars parked in the washed-out light of the street lamps. A Target sign is blazoned across the entrance to one side of the parking lot, and smaller stores dominate the strip directly in front of me.
One lonely police car drives by slowly on the highway behind me, dawdling along. I wonder what a police officer would make of me, a young girl, dressed all in black and wearing heels, skulking around in a mall parking lot at nine o'clock. They'd probably think I was a vandal, if not for the heels.
My thoughts turn to my performance. It was seamless. No matter what Bert might say, I was happy with how I had done. Flight of the Bumblebee had come out like Korsakov played it, and Beethoven's Fifth had been like magic. It had been an excellent decision to play it last, to make it my finale. Of course, I would do the same performance the day after tomorrow, and two days after that. It all got a bit boring, after doing it so many times.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even hear the girl come up behind me, her footfalls as soft as a cat's. I didn't know she was there until the lights went out and the hand came over my mouth, blocking the scream that wouldn't have come anyways.