Overrated | The Voice France / MIKA & OC

7.3 - Finals. Winners, Part 3

It's over. The realisation hits me as the train approaches the familiar outskirts of Cannes. No shows to prepare for, no interviews, no rehearsals, no coaching with Mika.
But for some reason, I don't feel sad. Just very tired.
Which is something that my friends notice when they meet me at the station. Justine assumes that I'm disappointed and grumbles on Mika's poor choices; Andy, as my personal doctor, orders a week of rest, having noted that I've even stopped overdoing my eyeliner.
I remember one musician say that first few days after a tour may get quite depressing, when you're suddenly deprived of all the adrenaline and joy of the adventure. I'm afraid that it'll hit me soon, that I'll lose all the dreams and ambitions I have now, that I'll be stuck again and all those months in Paris will be lost.
It doesn't happen, luckily. All I feel is a slight sense of surprise as I look around my tiny messy apartment. It seems familiar, in every single thing I've got at some point in life, from old piano to faded posters and college books on journalism, economics and medicine that I've never opened. It seems familiar - just not mine anymore.
I don't feel regret when I find a big trash bag and get rid of everything I don't need right now. What's left can be easily packed in one or two cases, which makes me strangely light and happy. As if I'm no longer tied to the place and ready to head on to the next adventure the minute it calls again.
- Damn. I liked your posters, - Justine comments when we get together again, - So what do you want to do now?
I have to admit that I didn't come up with a plan yet.
- Then you're free to do whatever you want for now, - Andrea suggests, - I mean, The Voice was so far the best job you've got. It's going to keep you afloat for a while. You may as well leave to... I don't know, Italy? Or the place you've come from, visit your distant relatives...
I sigh at her words. If I followed my "karma" previously and never felt like making real decisions, now being my own master brought me insecurity and confusion along with freedom. Although why I'm surprised - it always takes time to get used to it.

***

I spend my days mostly wandering, playing my old piano, occasionally taking pictures with few of those who recognize me, and thinking of my next move. It all feels like one long never-ending day, and Saturday approaches fast, as usual. It's then where I get a call from my ex-coach.
- I'm so glad to hear your voice, - I confess right away, and he laughs.
- So am I, Al. Should we expect to see you this Saturday?
- Well I didn't plan to get back to Paris so soon, but now that you said it, I can't stand to watch you all on TV.
- That's what I thought. They recall everyone who made it to Lives to hang around during the Finale. I don't think you'll ever get a chance to see all of them in one place.
I think about Emily and all the others who I didn't know that well but still remembered their faces. Would be great to hear what they're up to, just to get an idea what life after Voice should be like.
- I'll be there. Care to spoil your outfit for me? - I suggest, and get another giggle as a response.
- Nope! You're going to have to wait.

***

I arrive on Saturday morning, earlier than I needed to, and again, have a lot of time to kill. Knowing that Mika and Gaspard are busy rehearsing, I don't have the courage to disturb them, and hang out at the place I know apart from the studio - Chez soeur, a bar next to Mika's creative shelter.
Soft light, pastel colors, smell of cinnamon and carnations has a strange, almost magical effect on me. I remember my random thoughts about wanting to live here, and even consider asking about that room in the attic right above it.
Karma seems to like the direction my mind is going, for it gives me another little push, just a little hint that it's the right way: I notice a little girl talking to the waitress not far from my table. I don't recognize her, but I know who she is by the strand of blue in her hair - Ana, the tiny fan. I never got to see her, even though I've been around this place quite often.
I call her to my table, and she's happy to join me.
- You were my favourite talent, - the girl sighs while I sip my coffee and she doodles across the table, - I mean... You're like all the singers I listen to, altogether! Mom says I could vote for Gaspard instead, if I like Mika so much, but he'll be fine! I see his face everywhere, if I try to search up The Voice.
- You can vote for Karen, - I shrug, - She's very talented. And she's seen many contests already, maybe this time she'll get lucky.
- I don't like Jenifer a lot, - Ana wrinkled her nose, - But Karen is popular too. Gosh, she's so pretty.
- Like a fairy, - I remember my first association when I saw her.
- Yeah. I still like you more, though. I mean... Will I see you more? Do you have an album or something, or Les Enfoires will invite you to sing next winter?
- Well there will be The Voice tour, and I'm sure I'll be in it. I'll figure something out by the time I get back.

***

I ask her about this place, her mother, and why she seems to be around here quite often. As I guessed, the kid simply has nothing to do after school, so she spends her days talking to clients and doodling at a free table whenever she's bored.
- I like this place, - she says, - But mom won't let me bring my ukulele. Says it will distract the clients.
- You play ukulele? - I wonder.
- Yeah. I'm still too small for a real guitar, and I want to be a singer when I grow up. I think I do well, but there's no one to teach me to get better!
- Well if I had a place to live, I'd be happy to teach you, - I suggest before I think, realising how great it is that a girl this young already knows what she wants. I guess that's what Mika felt when he decided to be my coach.
But then, the problem is not if I'm capable of coaching - I think, but Ana speaks without waiting for my reply, solving the problem before I have a chance to define it in my mind:
- But you can live here! Well... Not exactly here, I mean, above the bar. See those stairs? It's always empty, and I heard the bar's owner complain a lot that nobody wants to live there. It's too noisy, she says.
I look at Ana for a few seconds in silence, not sure if she's joking. The coincidence is just too ridiculously lucky to be true.
But after I talk to the owner herself, there's no doubt the girl was telling the truth.
This is absurd - I think, looking through the contacts on my phone and trying to remember if I ever had Gaspard's number. If it was karma's parting gift for me, then it's one of the best it ever gave me.