One Moment, Academy Kids 4

Dreaming

Miles

I couldn't move.

I couldn't breathe.

My heart raced, sweat beading my upper lip. My fist clenched at my side, nails digging into my palm. No one knew I stood here, not yet. The lights were dimmed, this corner dark enough to hide me. One step. That's all it would take. One small step forward and the spotlight would capture me as it turned on. Every eye in the place would turn and focus on me. They'd wait for the first chords from my guitar, for the first notes I sung. My stomach churned, bile rising. A voice hissed at me from the side of the stage, but the pounding of my heart in my ears drowned out the words. Gripping my guitar tight, I slid a foot forward, then another. The spotlight flipped on, blinding me.

I still couldn't breath.

My arms shook, my head spun. I could feel their eyes boring into me, judging me. I lifted a hand to the mic, legs shaking, knees buckling. My head felt filled with clouds. I couldn't remember what I wanted to sing, couldn't remember how to play. The silence stretched too long. I could hear the rustle of restless shifting from the audience.

I couldn't do this.

Darkness crept into my vision and I gripped the mic harder. I opened my mouth and passed out.

My entire body jerked as I came to, breath catching in my throat. I trembled as my stomach flipped. Closing my eyes, I fought back the familiar panic before rolling over and flipping on the light on my nightstand. My hand brushed against paper and I couldn't help but grab the pamphlet as I rolled back over. With my dream still fresh in my head, I stared down at everything I wanted and could never have.

Star Camp.

The most expensive, exclusive summer camp for anyone in music. A month of intensive training with the biggest names in music. Agents and recording studios stalked the camp, looking for their next big name. The camp had born the likes of Angelique, Deonne Smith, The Funktones, and even Leather and Lace. To even be considered you needed to audition which you had to be invited to do after sending in your application video. Maybe 1 in a hundred would be invited to audition, and of those maybe 1 in every 50 would be accepted, conditional on paying the exhorbitant deposit required to hold their spot.

I bit back a bitter chuckle. Paying the fees wouldn't be a problem for me. Dad Victor would hand over the money in a heartbeat if he knew how badly I wanted this. It didn't matter though since I'd never be able to audition. The camp was a pipe dream. I flung the pamphlet to the floor and crawled out of bed. Feeling like an idiot, I slipped out of my room and down the hall. I cracked open the door a couple down from mine silently. Long time passed since I last did this. Fifteen years old and I was going to my big brother for a nightmare.

"Hey, Rock Star," Blaze murmured when I shook him. He shifted, sitting up to lean against the wall. "Nightmare?"

I sank to the bed with a sigh, drawing my knees up and resting my arms on them. "Yeah. Same as always." Running a hand through my pink tipped blonde hair, I blew out a long, slow breath. "So real this time though. Took me almost a whole minute to be able to breathe."

"Still think you ought to talk to Lacey."

I dropped my head to my knees with a groan. My brother's girlfriend, Lacey, suffered from a social anxiety disorder. While I didn't have the same issue, he thought she might have some advice on how to handle my own issues. Lacey was sweet but I didn't want to burden her with my issues when she was still learning to cope with her own. Besides, it meant actually trying to perform in front of her and so far the only people I managed to perform for were Blaze and my friend, Sasha.

Heat crawled up my neck at the thought of the girl who barrelled into my life like a hurricane last year, who just happened to be Lacey's little sister. We'd gone to homecoming together and become good friends.

"You're thinking about Sasha." Blaze smirked at me and I snatched up his pillow and smacked him with it.

"Shut up, dick." No matter how silly I'd felt coming to Blaze, he knew how to make me feel better.

"So you ever gonna make a move?" His fingers moved to his mouth, flailing for a moment after touching his lips before dropping back to the bed. He quit smoking last fall when he started dating Lacey but sometimes his fingers seem to forget.

I rolled my eyes and smacked him with the pillow again. Having a crush on my best friend had to be the most cliched teenage thing ever, and of course Blaze took every opportunity to tease me about it. As I sat there, the dream slipped away taking the terror with it. After about half an hour, my eyes began drifting shut. I jerked, eyes flying open at the hard shove to my shoulder.

"Bedtime, rock star." Blaze chuckled before his brows drew together. "You wanna stay in here tonight?"

"I'm not five anymore." I murmured as I crawled off the bed. "Night, and thanks."

"Anytime kiddo." Blaze slid back down into his bed as I slipped out the door, nearly running into Scott. My jaw dropped as he skirted around me. It was like three in the morning and my extremely straight laced oldest brother was just getting home! Holy crap! I mean, yeah, he could have been out on a mission but the large hickey on his neck told a different story. I shook my head. My older brothers sure had changed since their girlfriends came into their life.

"Miles."

I nearly missed the low hiss. Turning I saw Scott stopped and facing me, frowning. "You okay?"

I nodded, giving him a small smile. Scott's observant nature, and natural instincts used to be one of the things I hated most about him. I didn't know what happened at academy boot camp but he came home an entirely different person and we were working on our relationship. As soon as I crossed the threshold, my eyes found the discarded pamphlet. I picked it up, staring for a minute at the embodiment of my dreams. It was all there, the first step in everything I dreamed of since the moment dad first put a guitar in my hand. All I had to do was stand on a stage and perform without passing out. Or freezing up. Or croaking like a bullfrog. Or running off stage like my pants were on fire.

No problem.

I tossed the pamphlet in the trash can next to my desk. I would never know what the camp was like. I would never know what it was like to stand in front of a crowd roaring my name, singing a song I wrote, rocking out to my music. My dreams were destined to remain in my head, twisted into nightmares to torture me on a regular basis.

My fingers ran over the strings of the guitar leaning against the wall next my bed. Nothing felt more right than when I played, when I sang, but something would always be missing as long as I couldn't perform. My jaw clenched, a muted scream escaping as I sent my fist into the wall. Picking up the guitar, I moved it the wall next to the trash can. Maybe it was time to give up that particular dream.