“Yeah, that and a bunch of photos.” I sat on the edge of the bed and put on my socks and shoes before scrolling through the pictures my friend had taken. My makeup actually looked okay, and the wig and dress had photographed well.
I was afraid to watch the video, but curiosity won out so I hit play and braced myself. Not surprisingly, I looked like a deer in headlights as I took the stage. But once the music started, I performed that lip sync exactly like I had all those countless times in my room.
Somehow, I actually looked like I belonged in the spotlight.
After the video ended, I sat there in a daze and tried to process what I’d just seen. If I’d watched a stranger do that exact same performance, my only real feedback would have been to use more of the stage, since I’d barely moved from my starting point. That was a minor flaw though, and one I could easily work on for next time.
Wait… next time?
Okay, so no matter what I’d said about only doing this once, a part of me was already planning my next performance. Well, why not? Tonight I’d learned I was capable of so much more than I’d ever imagined. I could confront my fears. I could do what I’d always dreamed of. This didn’t have to be a one-time thing.
When Devon returned from the bathroom, I looked up at him and said, “I didn’t suck.”
“I tried to tell you that.”
“I thought you were just being nice.”
He crossed the room and crouched down right in front of me. “You were brilliant, Kit. You looked like a star, and you had that audience eating out of the palm of your hand.”
I grabbed Devon in a hug and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Absolutely everything. I never would have scraped up the courage to get on that stage if it wasn’t for you.”
“You deserve all the credit, Kit. Not me.”
“No, we’re definitely a team, and I’m going to want your input for next time.” I sat back and said, “That dress was a good call for tonight, because I was too scared to move anyway. Plus, I wanted my rose gown to have its moment in the spotlight, after all the time and effort I put into it. But I’ll need something lighter for my next performance, so I can dance.”
He looked delighted. “I love the fact that you’re talking about a next time. What song do you think you’ll choose?”
“We can figure that out later.” I got up and took his hand. “Right now, it’s your turn to make your dreams come true.”
12
Devon
If it wasn’t for Kit, I definitely would have backed out of that open mic night. It wasn’t that I was worried about screwing it up. I’d just spent too much time building up the idea of performing in front of an audience, and I’d assigned way too much significance to it.
This could just be a fun, one-time thing. It didn’t have to reframe my entire life. I kept trying to tell myself that as I took the stage with my acoustic guitar.
Ultimately though, I did it for Kit. He was so excited about this that I couldn’t let him down.
I adjusted the mic to the right height and exhaled slowly. When I spotted Kit, who was sitting at a small table in the third row with his friends, he smiled and gave me two thumbs up. I could tell he was nervous for me, but he was trying not to let it show.
I winked at him before turning my attention to the guitar and playing the opening notes to “Alive” by Pearl Jam. Someone in the audience whooped when they recognized the tune. It was a song I’d sung countless times on my own, but performing it for an audience was very different.
There was this incredible give and take, and the energy in that room was intoxicating. We moved like we were all connected somehow, swaying, nodding, singing—all of us brought together by the music. It was beautiful, and powerful, and unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
When I finished and stepped back from the mic, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Their reaction was so big that it was startling. I gave a little wave of acknowledgment and started to leave the stage, but then someone yelled, “Encore,” and the audience turned it into a chant.
I wasn’t sure if doing more than one song was allowed, but when I glanced at the emcee she nodded enthusiastically and gave me a double thumbs up like Kit had.
I hadn’t anticipated that and didn’t know what to do. Should I follow it up with another Pearl Jam song? With something else in the same genre? Or should I do something entirely different?
A bunch of songs came to mind. Too many. My thoughts were scrambled, until I focused on Kit. He was watching me with a hopeful expression. When our eyes met, every other person in that club disappeared, and I had a rare moment of perfect clarity.
He was what truly mattered here. When I asked myself what I wanted to say to him in this moment, one song immediately jumped out at me.
