swapped | markson

T H I R T E E N

Mark's hands trembled as he held the mic. He was to perform soon, but there was just one teensy-weensy problem.

Mark had stage-fright.
Bad stage fright.

He had somehow managed to get Jackson into the concert. He'd be in the front row, but in this position, Mark had so much weight on his shoulders. He didn't know what to do.

He put a hand on his heart, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths in attempt to steady his heartbeat. Mark, he mentally told himself, you've basically done this millions of times.

He knew how many times he has recited Jackson's raps as a fan. He knew every word of every rap.

"Jackson! It's showtime!" His manager came in, knocking on the door. When the boy stood hesitant, his manager raised one eyebrow, "C'mon! Get a move on! Don't butcher the show!"

"Y-yeah," Mark rushed out and steadied his breath before walking onto the stage.

He had his mic turned on, so as he saw the crowd, his gasp echoed throughout the auditorium. Not soon after, the background music of one of Jackson's songs began. Mark's eyes widened in recognition. I know this!

He shakily brought the mic closer to his lips, closing his eyes and starting the rap. Immediately, all of the nervousness that Mark had bundled up inside of him released. It was the effect of Jackson's raps. They always calmed him down. It's just that rapping it himself, Mark didn't think it'd have the same effect.

He let himself smile, opening his eyes and moving around on the stage. At one point, he even bent down to let a fan do a part of the song.

I hope, Mark wished, I hope getting through the rest of the concert will be this easy.