THE STAGE

i.

I'm scared.

I wish I didn't agree to do this.

Some people perform for a reason. Most of them perform to get the money. Others show-off for the fame. But for me, it is a way to prove myself that I can do it.

Ever since I was young, I've watched people go up on stage and perform faultlessly. I've watched them do their best. I saw how performing makes them happy. It seemed so easy for them to stand there and show their true selves.

And then it was my turn to go up there.

I stood there in the darkness with all the other contestants. I gripped the neck of my violin tightly, knuckles white. I was staring at the heads of people in the audience. Their eyes were locked on the little girl onstage, who was singing a part from the musical Matilda. I stared at her, too. She was good. But my thoughts weren't about her, nor her performance. I was sweating badly, and I wanted to run out of the room. My bow was shaking.

I'm scared.

I watched the girl sing. She was impressive. The bright lights shone upon her. She looked like a gift from God.

She took a deep breath and sang the last word, and there came an uproar from the audience. Hands were everywhere. Cameras flashing, cheers echoing, like rain pouring heavily on the roof.

Seconds passed. Minutes. The audience silenced. They laid back on their seats, relaxed; but for me, it felt like a thick, grey coat of tension suddenly hung in the air.

The host, a girl, called my name. She spoke my name through the microphone, which made me even more nervous. My feet froze; I thought I was just going to stand there. But I managed to climb up the steps, and on the stage. My shoes clapped noisily on the platform.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The silence was deafening.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

I could feel everyone's eyes glued on me. I tensed. I was sure I was walking weirdly, because I didn't know how to wear heels. I was sure I was slouched over, because that's when I do when everyone's attention is on me.

I'm scared.

I finally reached the X-mark on the stage and I composed myself. I stared straight at the front doors—far away from people's eyes. I told myself that I'm leaving this place once the program is done.

You can do this.

I gripped my bow and placed the violin on my left shoulder. I positioned my hand on the fingerboard. I held the bow comfortably.

The music began.

My heart was racing. I tried to focus on the tempo of the song. I stared at the darkness before me. I imagined I was back home, playing on my own—standing there near the bedroom window, gazing at the tall trees swaying along with the current of the wind.

I imagined I was alone.

With a quick breath, I clamped the violin on my shoulder. And then I placed the bow on the strings.

NOW.

And so I brought my bow down and played my piece.

~~*~~

A/N: Hello! I am not that good in writing and this is actually the first time I wrote a story like this. And the cover is made by yours truly in Canva! I hope you like it.

I wrote this a long time ago and only decided to publish it now because it actually is very close to me as how I always stand onstage and have a nervous fit before playing. I always try my best to play, and the main reason I play even though I get nervous is because I want to overcome my fear. You know, if you want to be a better violinist, you always have to stand onstage—so I thought that if I go up there a lot of times, maybe that fear will slowly disappear.

Haha, this note is actually too long! This was actually inspired by Jimmy James from It's Showtime, so I wanted to thank him for encouraging me to write down my fear to help me cope with it. Thank you! <3

With love,
bluecookies15.