✌️AMANI PROLOGUE✌️
The convergence of voices in the auditorium was inaudible over my heavy breathing. I stood alone on the stage, dead center, awaiting the fateful purple curtains to open for the start of the show. Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead and onto the floor, leaving a somewhat noticeable mark on the stage.
This is my destiny, I repeated to myself, this is what I've been leading up to for my entire life.
Through the crack, I could see the yellow theatre lights dim down and the bustle and hustle from the crowd stopped slowly. We are about to start our first performance on broadway... in New York.
My childhood was solely based on training for this exact moment. This fateful moment I've experienced many times over my theatre career, this fateful moment where I'm standing behind the curtains awaiting their opening. Butterfly wings flutturing perhaps.
This time was different though. This was the opening of an entirely new door. Out with the repeated theatre camps and direction, out with the childhood mannerisms, and out with the judgement for just being homosexual... my new day starts here, with either a bright sunrise or more dark hours.
I reflect back on my first performance ever. Under my costume, I am still wearing the locket that I was given during those glorious days. Although cheaply made, it resonates with me a lot. It's almost my second heart...
I remember that musical was about a girl made of glass. My role wasn't huge, but it was still amazing... the awful 10-year old voice I had, and me trying to act dramatic when, in reality, I looked silly...
But the thing I remember most about that is that locket Kevin gave me. My inspiration, and he continues to be. He taught me to be myself and how to not take any shit from other people. He was very real, unlike some other people who believed there was a positive to every negative.
Kevin... sheesh, I miss him. It's been seven years since I've seen him last... Ever since my last performance with him, when I was 16, he told me to continue what I was doing, and I'd go far. More far than this crummy old town in Wisconsin; more far than he'll ever go... and that I'd forget about him. I'm far. I've reached heights I've never dreamed of reaching.
But... one thought lingers behind. I still remember him.
What I am nervous about is if he forgot about me. I don't know why: I just have this fantasy where we reunite and get together (as a couple perhaps) and live life together forever... but it's never coming true. He forgot about me, and forgot about what he said to me.
...But I have everything though. Money. Fame. Integrity. A high rise apartment in New York at age 22. But this game of life is far from over. This could all change in the matter of seconds, really. I just don't have any peace anymore. Hopefully this performance will bring it back.
My legs start shaking slightly, but I ease a bit, knowing if I do mess up, it isn't the end of the world. Nobody knows what this show even is about. Nobody knows any line, any song, any note, any millisecond of the show. I am going to repeat it way more times anyways... All they know is that it's a show about a boy who was made for the stars above. The boy wants to be free from his chains and let loose... and that boy is played by me. He's like me as well...
It's called Amani, if you are wondering. By Kaine Meinderson.
But I was taken out of the trail of thought by a cascading noise of the curtains opening, revealing the crowd of 2,000 people in one place. All here to see the cast. All here to see whatever occurs. All here to pay $500 for opening night. It might even be a disappointment.
Their dim faces look at me, staring aloofly through my hazel eyes. More silence encompasses the room, and I look out, knowing all of them support me. All of them are here for this long journey in this theatre.
Mezzopiano plays, and I get ready for my cue.
I start to sing, and all the tension releases. Everything that's lead up to this has released. The slurs, the bullying, my unsupportive mother, my dead father... Except one insignificant little speck in the front row. So similar. So different.
This presence was familiar. I've felt it before. It's obvious who it is...
Kevin. In the front row, smiling up at me.
