The Love Song

My Life

My hands cling to the microphone stand in front of me. I stare out at the blurred mess of people, who all gaze at me expectantly. My heart pounds in my chest, but that is one of the things I love most about preforming; the adrenalin that comes along with all eyes on me. The feeling of excitement as my feet hit the stage, and the sound of my three inch heels tapping the floor. The way my flowing, glittering, sparkling dress sways around my thighs. It's a feeling that I yearn for. For that one fleeting moment of amazing.

My vibrant red lips form a sneaky smile as I stare back out at the audience. A piano starts to play and I sing out the tune I know so well. The audience is mesmerized. This is my favorite part. They're jaws almost seem to drop as my voice explodes from my body. It comes from deep within my soul; song is a part of me. I give a quick wink to the audience, to no one in particular, but it adds to my performance. Every single person watching feels as if my words are relevant to them, and only them. This is preforming. This is my life.

I step of the stage with a shuddering applause, and tuck behind the curtain. My manager, Lauren, greets me with a small nod of the head and I follow her outside.  She is dressed less extravagant than I am, but her posture and attitude make her appear to be a queen. Her skinny black jeans cling to her slender body while her black hair is pulled into a slick ponytail. We rush into her car, and drive away before she says anything to me at all.

"Well done." She says simply. I stare at the road ahead of us, the highway curving into the vibrant city. It's late at night, but the city glows.

I stare at the bright lights that shine as we cross the bridge over the river to get home. Lauren pulls up in my driveway and turns the engine off, and turns to face me, her green eyes look concerned.

"You sure you're okay? You know I hate you being alone all the time." She says, chewing her lip.

"I'm fine, really, Lauren. I've told you." I respond as I open the door to get out.

"Gabrielle, really. Please just call if you need anything, and be careful." I nod, but after I turn away I roll my eyes. I'm 18 years old. I don't need a babysitter.

I rush up the long driveway and unlock the front door. I step inside my house, adoring the sound of my heels on the shiny hardwood floors. I dump my keys into the basket and rush up to my bedroom to change.

I've lived alone for about five months now. My dad died then, and because I was eighteen, I was on my own. My mother had died a year prior to that in a car crash, but my dad committed the cowardly act of suicide.

I'd escaped into my music to deal with the grief. My parents were both musicians, and always wished they'd acted with their talents. So when they had me, their only daughter, they wasted no time in signing me up for vocal lessons, and every opportunity possible for me to get out there. I'm glad; I'd never be where I was without them.

My eyes tear up at the thought of my parents. I quickly start to hum to myself, something that has always kept me calm. When I was in the first grade, my mother scolded me for not making my bed like I was asked, and I started to cry. She felt bad and started humming, and I instantly felt better. I've been using the system for years.

I pull out a pair of sweats and a loose top, then take of my shoes and dress. It clings to my small frame, and I'm grateful to be free of it. The loss of my heels brings me down to my five foot five height, and I slip on my comfy clothes. I wash my face free of the layers of makeup, and rip my blonde hair from its restraints. My blue eyes look tired and sullen.

I'll never forget how I got here. My career is only blossoming, I'm still only preforming in town. But we're trying.

I auditioned for the local talent show a few months back, and everyone fell in love with my story and my voice. I will never forget the moment when the words "Congratulations, Gabrielle Goodwin, you are the winner!"

The contest seemed superficial to me, but I needed to do something. I'd been sitting at home crying for days, so I took a chance, and I succeeded.

That's how I met Lauren. She was a big time lover of the show and called me when I won. I'd scored a manager, and $1OO OOO. It was time for my career to begin.

I'd adopted the stage name of Coral, and moved into my own house. I dropped out of college; I lost my old life and started a new one. The only reminders of my past are my best friends; Aoife and Georgia. They've been with me all the way.

I was still struggling with everything new. The constant care I had to take with what I posted, what I wore, where I went. Everything I did could come back to bite me. According to Lauren, dating was a certain no-no, until I was for sure secured a solid career. Because mine was still blossoming, I had to be extremly careful. 

But sometimes, I just didn't want to be careful. I wanted to run reckless and free, and find someone who could love me, things that other girls my age did. I'd had to give up far too much for this lifestyle, and I hoped it was worth it.