Born to Perform

Chapter 3

I think I’m in love. Watch out Maria because I am feeling quite pretty myself, actually. I have not stopped thinking about Sam since he left Physics yesterday. Just picturing his adorable smile and those beautiful eyes make me feel like I’m glowing and I start grinning like an idiot. Actually, people are starting to stare. Maybe I should stop. 

I’m eating my breakfast on the way to school and I’ve stopped to look at the jewellery. Ok, fine, I am eating a bagel and pretending to have breakfast at Tiffany’s but I’m going to live in New York some day so I might as well practise now! Anyway, I think I have my perfect audition song for tomorrow. I thought about it for ages last night and suddenly realised: who would I turn to in my hour of need? Barbra. If you just said ‘Barbra who’ then you need to slap yourself in your uneducated face. In my hour of need I would think WWBSD? What Would Barbra Streisand Do? And I realised this. She would sing her heart out. And she would sing ‘Tell Him’.

It’s the perfect ballad that suits my voice completely. Of course, I won’t have Celine Dion to harmonise with but you can’t have everything. It also describes my feelings for Sam better than I could say them myself. Oh, Barbra, what would I do without you? 

I suddenly check my watch and realise how late for school I am. Well, school can wait. My stardom can’t. 

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I have been waiting at the back door of the auditorium for nearly forty minutes. I have warmed up my voice three times and run through both my songs. I sound fantastic. Still, though, I feel nervous. I wonder how many people will be in there. I was the last to sign up so I am the last to audition but I wonder if the others will have stayed in the auditorium to watch or if they have left. Although I am usually in favour of a large audience, just this once I am not. If I am really going to sing my heart out I would rather do it in front of a select few (namely Sam and the directors) but not half the school. 

“Melody Painter?” A senior pokes his head around the door.

“Um, it’s Pointer, actually,” I correct him. If my name is going on that cast list, it had better be spelled right. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he brushes off my correction, “We’re ready for you.” 

I am not going to be sick. I have sung in front of people a million times and I never felt this nervous before. I suppose I’ve never sung anything so personal, though. 

As I walk on stage, all I can hear is the click-clack of my shoes and I am blinded by the spotlights. I can vaguely sense that the director, Mrs Escott, is sitting in the middle of the audience but, other than her, I have no idea how many people are here. 

“Could you turn the spotlights down a little, Eric?” she calls up to the lighting box, “Everyone who comes on stage looks positively blinded!”

As the dazzling lights fade down I suddenly realise with a jolt that there are about 80 people here. I cannot understand why there are so many but seeing them makes my heart beat dangerously quickly and now my hands are shaking. 

“What are you going to sing?” Mrs Escott asks me. For a moment I forget the name of the song. Then I remember. 

“I will be singing One Hand, One Heart from West Side Story and Tell Him by Barbra Streisand and Celine Dion,” I announce with as much confidence as I can muster. I can hear a few giggles coming from the front row - probably Elisha or Ariel - but I ignore them. I’m not trying to impress them. These songs are meant for Sam and Mrs Escott is allowed to judge me on them. No one else matters. The teacher gives me a puzzled look. 

“But those are both duets, my dear,” she tells me, as if I don’t already know. 

“I realise this but I have adjusted them to suit my voice as a solo.” She raises her eyebrows. She is either impressed or doubtful. The piano starts playing and I frantically try to remember the first words. 

“Make of our hands, one hand, make of our hearts, one heart” I sing without thinking. Thank god my brain can do musical theatre on auto-pilot. The songs seem to fly by like a dream and I almost forget that I am performing in front of anyone. It feels like just me and the music. The thundering applause I receive brings me out of my trance. 

I look around in shock. They liked it? They really liked it? I catch sight of Sam in the audience. He is on his feet, clapping loudly. He gives me a smile and a wink. As if I need any other reason to faint. 

“Well done, my dear, that was beautiful,” Mrs Escott enthuses. She is also on her feet. I have never felt happier. I am certain to get Maria now. I thank her, take a small bow and sweep down the stairs into the audience. I head straight for Sam, who embraces me in hug. Could this get any better?

“You were amazing!” he exclaims, his eyes glittering like starlight, “I never knew you were so good at singing!”

“Thank you,” I say, a blush spreading over my cheeks. “Why are so many people here?”

“The auditions were actually really popular,” he explains, “About half these people auditioned and the others came to support their friends.”

“And which one are you? Auditioning or supporting someone?” I ask, fluttering my eyelashes slightly. There is definitely a right and wrong answer to this. 

“Well, I auditioned for Tony,” he grins. Wrong. “But I also came to support someone special.” Right. Right. Right.

“Sweetie, that is so cute!” comes a voice from behind me. It sounds like a snake is talking. Then I see Elisha brush past me to drape her arm over Sam’s shoulder. For a second, I stare at her in bewilderment but then my stomach gives a sickening lurch as I understand what is going on. 

“Oh, you two are…” I can’t bring myself to say it. ‘Together’. ‘An item’. ‘In love’. No, I can’t even think it. Sam looks at his feet, not willing to answer. Elisha is more than ready to answer my questions. 

“Oh, yes, we’re together now,” she says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. So this is her revenge. Well played. “And soon we’ll be a couple on stage too!”

“Y-you auditioned?” I feel like I have been punched in the stomach. All my previous happiness has disappeared and been replaced by defeat. Sam and Elisha. Tony and Maria. 

“Yes, we sang a duet,” she tries to flaunt this as much as possible. “A love song duet.”

“Stop it, Elisha,” Sam mutters but he is too late. My tears are getting dangerously close to spilling over. I need to leave. 

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

“I need to go,” I declare and spin around so neither of them can see the tear rolling down my cheek. They will not see my cry. 

“Wait, Melody-”

“Forget it!” I shout, still not facing them. I walk out of the auditorium and then break into a run as soon as no one is around. I wonder if I can hear footsteps behind me but I don’t care. I never want to see either of them. I’ll never fall in love again.