With Love, Kylie

6. "I wouldn't say "better", but..."

2016 January 16

Waiting for results

I anxiously looked down at my knees, holding my hands together, and waited for the judges to return and say their final word.

"Is our little Kylie nervous?" Some boy from my orchestra asked.

"Eh," I tried to remember his name. "I'm just anxious... Robert?" I said in a questioning voice.

"Was that a question?" He looked angry.

"Damn, I really need to remember people's names." I thought.

"No?"

"Whatever." He left, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Robert!" I shouted.

I went to the bathroom to remove my body from this hell and by that I mean our orchestra's uniform.

I putted on my blue ripped jeans, a white tight tank top, a leather jacket and my black converse shoes.

"Damn, girl, you look badass." I thought as I looked at the mirror.

"Um, hey." A girl called out to me.

"Hello?" I said as I turned around near my classroom.

"You rocked it out there, earlier." She smiled genuinely at me.

"Thanks." I giggled. "I'm Kylie Wilston-"

And with that she ran away. I didn't over think it, and stepped into the classroom.

I saw half of my orchestra, and half of theirs.

"Kylie Wilston." Mr. Robinson and Mr. Williams approached me. "It's good to finally meet you."

"Yeah," he gave me his hand, but I hugged him instead. Mr. Robinson shook his head and looked at me disapprovingly.

"Ten push ups." Mr. Robinson said.

"What's this? A work out session?" I commented.

"Fifteen." He shook his head, again.

"Make it twenty." Mr. Williams added.

"Whatever." I started doing my push ups.

"The judges have their-" One of the judge started. "What's this?"

Now, turn on your imagination. Imagine me doing push ups, Mr. Robinson shaking his head, Mr. Williams looking down at me and laughing, some guys flexing their muscles and girls drooling over them.

"Oh, shit, looks like someone's in trouble-" I started, laughing.

"Twenty five." Mr. Robinson whispered.

"At least you'll be fit." Mr. Williams added.

"Always the optimist." I mumbled.

"Invite everyone to the hall. Judges are waiting." One of the judges said, and left as soon as possible.

"Everyone, let's go!" Mr. Williams shouted.

"Don't stop doing your push ups until you reach thirty." Mr. Robinson kneeled down and whispered to me.

I was alone in this big classroom doing push ups.

Or at least, I thought so.

"A sporty girl, huh." Someone said. "So you do push ups at home or here to "impress" everyone on how tough you are?"

"Huh?" I gasped. "Why didn't you leave with them?"

"You were quite good there today." He said, ignoring my question.

"Better than you." I snickered.

"I wouldn't say "better", but..." he started. "Maybe good, but not good as me?" He smirked.

"We'll see about that." I snapped. "Oh, and should I remind you, that you're playing with a bass guitar, not with an electric guitar?"

"Should I remind you that basses mostly don't have solos, and that you looked dumb standing up there and playing louder than others? You didn't heal the music. Actually, it's the opposite. You damaged it, and it wasn't good as you thought it was. In music, impressions aren't important. It's all about music and its professional level." He left me there, standing alone in this empty classroom.

I stood there, thinking about his words, and how was he right. Impressions aren't that important in music. It's the music itself that matters.

"You okay?" Selin knocked on the half open door. "We're waiting for you."

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah. Let's go."

"Well, you did break your record." Mr. Robinson laughed as I entered the hall.

I rolled my eyes at him and took a seat near Selin and her friends.

"We must confess, it wasn't easy to choose who was going to the semi-finals." The judge Ronald started. "But first, here are our comments about your performances."

"We decided to give more points to "The Budgets" for the first category." The other judge Savannah continued. "And that would be trumpets. High notes were played clearly and not too loud. However, "The Healers" get more points in the second category. And that would be bass." I looked up at her. "The bass guitar player impressed us. Good scenery impression."

And at that moment, my eyes teared up. The mysterious guy was right. In music, impressions aren't important, but it looks like it is. And I should be happy, knowing that we scored more in bass category because of my scenery performance, but it hurts me that they only complimented my "looks". They didn't see beyond the scene.

I tried to look for that guy who made me realise my mistake, and my eyes immediately made eye contact with him as soon as I saw him. He gave me an apologetic smile and focused on the judges.

Music was everything to me. And his words repeating in my head made my everything fall apart.

"Excuse me." I said, standing up and walking towards the door. "I won't be coming back. Please continue."

As soon as I left, I ran to my classroom, took my things and left. I heard how the hall door opened, but I ignored it and left. I saw a man's figure.

As I walked down stairs, in the corner of my eyes I saw Mr. Robinson, shouting my name, but I decided to leave.

"It's better to be less awarded about my playing manners, setting and sound than rather being acknowledged by scenery performance." I thought as I walked to my car. "I'd rather not be given anything at all but know that I have good playing manners, than being "famous" for my "first good impressions"."

I hopped into my car and started the engine. "Wishes have their flaws too." I said out loud, remembering my wish. "Sometimes, the exact opposite can be given to you, than you expected."

And with that, I started to drive, with the thought that society wants something in return from me, for teaching us people not valuable things.