“Low Day” Capra
Carson tapped his foot to the music; he tried to crack his knuckles- failing miserably- and chewed on his bottom lip. He looked around; his black eyes were portraying all the nervousness he felt.
Carson felt a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder. He twitched a bit before glancing at the owner of the hand. “James.”
“Who were you expecting?” James teased. “Papa Smurf or Santa Claus?”
“Santa, quite honestly. I would have been satisfied finding a Smurf, but seeing as it was you… Well, you can imagine my disappointment.” Carson tried to sound light and airy, but his words were all jumbled together. Carson rolled his eyes for good measure, wishing James’s confidence was contagious.
James smiled, “Smart ass.” He pretended to not notice Carson’s nervousness.
“Are you guys ready?” Alex asked. Alex was worrisome; so Carson was surprised to see that Alex seemed completely confident and ready. He even seemed a bit excited.
Maybe James’s confidence is contagious. Carson thought, trying to move his thoughts away from their performance.
James nodded excitedly and Carson tried to imitate him. He bobbed his head enthusiastically, inside he was hoping his brain would fall out and he wouldn’t have to play. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach and the walnut-sized lump in his throat. He tried to breathe and look energetic.
James glanced at Carson and shot him an award-winning smile. “Ready, Freddie?”
“It’s Carson.” Carson said, calming his nerves. It was gonna happen either way, might as well get it over with.
James rolled his light blue eyes and looked away towards Alex and to the stage where the current band was finishing up, telling everyone to have a goodnight and enjoy the rest of the performances.
Carson’s chest tightened and he tried to swallow. He felt like he was going to throw up.
James looked at Carson and shot him a sympathetic smile. Then he walked away. Alex followed him and Carson had no choice but to follow also. Alex waved to the crowd, and settled behind the drums.
Lucky bastard, hiding behind the set. Carson thought bitterly as he tried to look anywhere but to the audience all hushed and ready for the band to perform.
James walked confidently up to the mike; his electric guitar was already slung around his body. “Hey, everybody.” James said, smiling into the crowd. “We’re going to be doing a cover of…”
Carson tuned out, trying to start feeling again. Everything was numb. Damn, stage fright. He turned to Alex, who shot him a thumbs up and a smile before mouthing something. Then the drums were playing and Carson was unconsciously playing the bass. His fingers moved up and down the bass without any thought, they knew what to do- it was like they had a mind of their own.
And then Carson came crashing back to Earth. He regained control of his body. Half of his brain was concentrating on what he was playing, knowing that if he messed up everyone would be able to tell- it wasn’t like his school orchestra, he couldn’t hide behind other violin players and pretend he hadn’t messed up. The other half of his brain was concentrating on the audience. His eyes seemed to not listen to logic and searched the crowd.
He knew he was hoping to see his parents, smiling proud and bobbing their heads to the music. Instead he was met by hypnotized stares of strangers.
No one really cared about who they were here. No, they just cared about the music. Only the music.
And so Carson tried to concentrate on the music.
He ignored everything.
He ignored the weight he felt in his heart because of his parents not coming. He ignored the floating feeling of being able to be free and just have a good time, not caring. Not giving a shit.
Screw stage fright. He thought, smiling as he hit the last chord, fading out. This is pure beauty.
