Bloom

Part 5

The music flowed quickly and powerfully as Agatha pushed down the piano keys. The audience looked tensed, some gripping their armchairs. One of the judges wiped the sweat off his forehead when Agatha slammed her fingers on the sharp notes and sang the crescendo.

Her melody, her playing, her posture... they were all perfect. But there was one thing that she failed: the competition's theme. Her lyrics were about growth and strength, all right, but it sounded so greedy if grasped well.

She didn't understand resilience because she had never experienced it. She had been living all her life with ease—always getting what she wanted, always demanding more, always pushing anybody down who got in her way—and her song was all about that.

The final note came with a loud bang. The audience's applause was almost too deafening. Agatha made a smug smile before leaving the spotlight to welcome the praises of several people here backstage. Someone made a remark about her lyrics, but she made a face and spat, "So what, loser? Didn't you hear the audience outside? They like it."

I rolled my eyes, mentally telling her to shut up. Watch out, Agatha. The people you call "losers" may end up bagging the first prize. Karma slaps harder than you do.

A few more contestants performed their songs. They were incredibly good that I bet the judges would have a hard time picking the winners. There was one boy who played the ukulele. I thought at first that his show would be unexciting, but I was wrong. He performed like a champ. His singing and playing were so rich and playful that it even made the audience clap with the beat. He was much better than Agatha was, and I hoped he would win.

Then—the moment came. The host called for me, and some of the contestants patted me on the back for good luck. The flashing lights almost blinded me as I walked toward the center of the stage with Chad following behind.

People from my school cheered. I spotted my family in the third row; they were grinning so wide I thought their jaws would break. Meanwhile, Lily, who was dressed in her dance costume, was sitting with her family in the other row, and she was waving her digital camera in the air.

Chad pulled up a stool and sat next to my spot, resting his guitar on his lap. As I adjust the microphone for him, he mouthed, "You can do it."

I smiled at him and returned to face the crowd. Apprehension threatened to block my throat, but one glance at his leather bracelet around my wrist made it go away. Grasping the microphone, I breathed deeply. This is it. I had to prove that I was not afraid.

I gave Chad a nod of my head, and he began strumming the introduction. After a few chords, the first verse escaped my lips with softness and ease like the summer wind. A smile formed on my face, and I stared at the crowd, mustering my energy for the next verse.

I sang again, my voice blending with strums. I tapped my foot to the beat. The strumming went louder, and the chorus came with a rich explosion of melodies. I began walking and waving my hand around, singing out loud the lyrics that I had worked so hard on. The stage was mine. I didn't care if I looked like a crazy performer. I was having fun, and that's what mattered the most.

The audience clapped to the rhythm of the song. Their happiness and my happiness coalesced in my chest, and my eyes became misty with tears again. I felt like I was flying. Agatha was sitting among the audience, her arms crossed tight over her chest. She looked mad, and I loved it.

When Chad strummed the final notes, I raised my head to the spotlight for everyone to see my face. My chest was heaving with every heavy breath. I was sweating.

It's over. Finally.

The crowd applauded. And it was not just ordinary applause. It was piercing, followed by energetic hoots and yells. My mouth hung open. People were clapping for me! They liked my performance! A single tear escaped from the corner of my eye, and I wiped it.

"Thank you," I said over the microphone, my words coming out in a tremble.

The clapping and cheers dissolved when Chad and I returned backstage.

"You did it! I'm so proud of you!" he said, beaming at me. He had his arms spread out that I thought he was going to hug me.

My cheeks flushed, and I tried to hide it by lowering my head. "You did great, too," I told him. "Um, I'm going to sit with my parents."

He nodded. "Yeah, sure. See you later."

On the way to the third row, several people congratulated me. Blushing with pleasure, I smiled and said meek thanks. I still wasn't used to strangers complimenting me.

My younger brother and sister rushed to hug me, but since they were so little, they could only manage to wrap their arms around my waist.

"You should've done flips and moonwalk up there," my brother said.

I laughed, brushing his head. "Next time, Jakey."

"Honey, you were so beautiful up there," Mom said as she and Dad gave me another hug. "We're very proud of you."

I smiled and melted into their arms. I was proud of myself, too.