Corpus Civilization

Australia

Mia Bennell strode passionately along the waterfront at her side, enjoying the way the gentle sea draft carried her brown, curly tresses gently off her shoulders.

With authority, her black high heels clicked down the welcoming, beige pathway leading to her destination. She was headed for the grand opera house in Sydney, Australia, and not for the first time. The Sydney Opera House was familiar to her, a kind of escape for her to enjoy various immaculate performances from singing showcases to avant-garde dance acts. Since childhood, Mia had worshipped the grounds of the vast opera house now looming above her with its magnificent, white shells.

Upon second glance, the Australian opera house seemed to reach skyward to the heavens, singing a heavenly melody on its foundations. The entire architectural feat never failed to impress her small-town roots. Even though she'd been here countless times prior to tonight, Mia felt uncanny jamais vu when she glanced up at the building. A structure as glamorous as it was formidable was bound to instill in all its guests immense awe and the gnawing urge to be included in the festivities inside.

"Mia Bennell! So great to see you! Are you ready for your performance?"

A middle-aged, salt-and-pepper haired woman extended an enthusiastic hand out to Mia the moment she stepped through the doors marked 'Performers Entrance.' This was her first time pushing open those doors, and she would be lying if she said doing so didn't make her entire body flush through with nervous anticipation of the coming night.

"Yes, I think I'm ready." Mia politely answered the woman who she assumed was a staff member and returned the handshake.

A newcomer in the opera scene, Mia Bennell was as used to being treated like a celebrity as she was to singing in front of thousands of people. Tonight she would be experiencing a lot of firsts. Scary firsts.

"Great! Right this way then." The kind lady motioned for Mia to follow her along a vermillion carpeted path. Mia noted with wonder the proliferating scents of treated wood, light cleaner, and palpable excitement. The air inside buzzed with healthy anticipation, which didn't seem to go missed on the faces of people she walked past. Mia caught several lopsided smile-winces of performance anxiety, which didn't serve to aid her thumping heart in any positive way. As she passed, she clutched at the edge of the sleek black purse containing all her vocal remedies, from vocal spray to a picture of her late mother.

'Mum would be happy that I'm finally performing here, just as I promised her.' Mia thought with a pang of sadness. In her heart, Mia held her mother's presence close. In Janice Bennell was her pillar of strength that she would need to lean on heavily tonight.

"Just this way, Mia." The woman motioned her through a doorway that led into what appeared to be some kind of large practice room. Lining the walls were polished music stands, chalkboards, music cases stacked on top of red cushioned chairs, and several photographs of the Sydney opera house that looked to be historical in nature.

A few other performers for tonight's showcase eyed her strangely as she strode by, and a handful appeared to recognize her. One young man wearing an azure suit with a matching tie waved at her and grinned. It took her a few seconds to realize that the man waving at her was the male opera singer performing directly before her act. Meekly, she raised a hand at the man named Joshua Hermsan, feeling slightly better about herself in the presence of another amateur.

"Here you are! You're very own, private practice room." The woman held an arm through the entryway of a nicely furnished dressing room illuminated by golden lights. Mia nearly gasped at the aesthetic quality of her very own dressing room, but swallowed the urge to. If she wanted to make a good impression for other opera performances, she needed to act mature, poised.

"Thank you so much!" Mia walked into the room, suddenly aware of the clock hanging on the side wall. "Oh, excuse me. What time do I need to leave this room to check in backstage?"

The woman lifted her eyebrows in a way that told Mia she was confused. "Didn't you...oh wait! That's right. You're a last-minute fill-in, of course, you wouldn't have been told the time. You didn't attend rehearsal."

"Right." Mia chuckled nervously, the statement doing nothing to mitigate her nerves.

The woman continued. "Be backstage at least thirty minutes before your allotted performance time. That way the director has a little buffering time in case something comes up."

Mia nodded at the words, picturing the newbie opera singers getting cold feet in their practice rooms and then tapping out at the last second. Likely not a typical occurrence for practiced singers, but not entirely unfounded. Being inside such a formidable place—with the daunting task of singing to thousands of pairs of eyes...

Mia jumped as the door to her room closed loudly. She quickly brushed off her fright by vocalizing a few scales into the soundproof room. A lofty, lighted mirror with a matching red velvet bench drew her to the end of the room. Mia plopped down on the padded bench as she sang without reservation, watching her reflection in the mirror closely. She could not have picked a better outfit for her debut night as an opera singer.

'Mum would love this.' She thought as she belted out higher and higher pitches in front of the mirror. 'If only Mum could be here. She'd have died to see me perform at the place she met Dad.'

Mia's hands traced the chic black lace sleeves of her evening gown with fevered excitement. Her black heels clicked together under the velvet bench, eager to get some of her jitters out. As she sang, her hands flowed with her breath, drawing forth with oxygen the emotion she needed to soak in every vowel.

She, Mia Bennell, was going to stand before a vast sea of people in under an hour, sharing her talent with every listening ear inside the splendorous golden auditorium of the opera house. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. If she could pull this off, this would be the best day of her life, hands down. She only needed to maintain her composure until she was off of the stage. Then she would cheer and scream and fall apart with joy.

Minutes passed in her performance stupor. Before Mia knew it, she was staring at a clock that read thirty-five minutes to eight o'clock, when she was set to be on stage.

"Okay, okay." Mia began to pace the room. Her reflection filled her with unease, creating an anxious doppelganger that couldn't comfort her with its wide, brown eyes. "Okay, I'll be fine. You'll be fine, Mia. You'll be fine."

Five minutes passed in a flash. Mia did a final breathing practice to settle her worst nerves and lifted her chin. This was it. This was the moment.

When Mia opened the door that would launch her into a new professionalism of her career, her mother's spirit cheered her on vivaciously, then and for years to come.

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By Izzy