I have everything, except you - Thomas Brodie Sangster fic

13. Performance piece

(The video is for a part later on in the chapter ;))

From the moment I woke up I worried. Who would I sit with? I had to sit with my regular crowd, didn't I? People would talk, and I hated that. This is so shallow, Milly. There are people dying.

I tried convincing myself that the worries were stupid, which they were. But it was no use, I couldn't help stressing over this. Thomas was so unaware of what he had asked, it was no big deal to him. But even though I didn't think I could handle watching Evan and Ryan for another whole lunchtime, it was where I belonged.

So of course I sat with my friends, silently wishing Ryan would quit laughing with satan's spawn and ask me how my day was going. Instead I was sat across from Steph and Patricia, who were sharing makeup routines. After my night talking with Thomas, their girly chatter seemed kinda stupid, but I just had to get used to them again. I had spent so much time chasing a boy for stupid reasons that I had been neglecting my friends.

"So are we hitting MAC or Sephora after school?" Patricia asked me, I was zoned out, without knowing my eyes had drifted to Thomas and his table, all joking and having what seemed like a really interesting conversation.

"Huh? Sorry, Pat, I was just uh.." I took a bite of salad. "Let's go for Sephora, I could do with a new liquid lipstick,"

When the bell rang, Ryan made eye-contact with me, winking before Evan slung his arm around him, glancing blankly back at me, not that I cared.

While walking to music, I saw the first of many posters advertising the upcoming dance. Every time I saw one, I thought about who the lucky guy would be to take me. That sounded less conceited in my head, sorry.

Tugging my skirt down a bit, I entered the music room, where Mr Archer was encouraging a young girl who was playing the flute. He looked up when most of the class had filed in, and smiled his huge smile at us.

"Today I want you to select a song. This can be any song, any genre of music you like. You can perform it however you like. You may use any instrument you want, or just sing with a backing track. There is only one thing i'm looking for. You have to have passion. Choose a song that you love or connect with in some way, and sing it with feeling, I want you to make the audience cry, or make them so damn happy they can't stop smiling, or get them on their feet cheering. Go for it!"

Half the class looked scared, the other half confident, as we all went into the twelve small practice rooms. Each room was a square with walls measuring roughly two and a half metres. They each had a microphone in them, and the walls were relatively sound proof, though not fully. People took their chosen instruments in and soon the main room was filled with muffled musical sounds.

I was going for the only instrument I could kind of sort of play, the piano. I brought a keyboard in and turned it and the microphone on, checking the equipment. Thomas was talking to the teacher in the main room, I could see out of the small window on the door.

One of the few songs I knew off by heart was one of my favourites, Death of a Bachelor, by Panic! At the Disco. I had mastered it purely because I loved the song so much, and found it so fun to sing. I started singing, realising quite quickly that I was a bit rusty with my keyboard skills.

I'd have to put in quite a bit of practice if I had to do this in front of the class. I started again, my eyebrows knitting together as I concentrated. (See video at the start of this chapter)

I heard the squeak of the door and my head snapped up, to see Thomas standing in the doorway with a sheepish look on his face. "I was trying to be quiet, sorry. Keep going," He said, sitting down. I sighed and turned around on the stool so I was facing him.

"No, I suck," I said, embarrassed. "What song are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Don't say that, you're actually really really great at singing. I'm impressed. As for what song I'll choose, dunno, it'll come to me. Hopefully soon, because we're performing these in three days, on Friday,"

"That's way not enough time!" I replied, burying my face in my hands. I felt his warm hand on my back through my shirt. It felt reassuring, and I knew he was giving me his gentle smile.

*
I applied a dark red lipstick to my lips, testing out the shade. Sephora was less busy than usual, giving us three a chance to talk while we browsed the holy grail of lip liners and eye shadow palettes.

"So has Jordan asked you yet Steph?" Patricia asked.
"Asked her what?" I was confused.
"You've been so out of it lately, Milly. I'm talking about the dance, of course. I don't know why but you've been tuning out this whole week, what's going on?"

Oh god. "I'm just tired," I replied quickly. Luckily Steph saw my face and stepped in.

"No, he hasn't asked me yet. I'm actually getting kind of pissed, the dance is next week, so he'd better ask me soon." She sighed.

I saw a dark lipstick that I really liked, it was purpley red and not too expensive. Steph and Patricia were talking about how nude lip colours were "so in right now", so without thinking I cast the magic lip colour from my mind and picked up a neutral colour to buy.

They'd ask me if I was emo now, they'd probably laugh, think I was weird, stop talking to me, abandon me, no one would ever talk to me again...

"Milly! We're leaving now.." Patricia giggles at Steph's fake-annoyed face. They already think i'm weird.