Page 39 of Serenade Me

“No, I.. I can’t. I’ve…I gotta go,” she says, sounding louder, more panicked. But she doesn’t move.

“You can do this. It’s just like any other time you’ve played. Ignore the crowd, it’s just you and your harp.”

“I-I can’t. Oh my god, what am I going here? I’ve got to go! Get me off the stage, Marius,” her voice trembles with every word. She sounds so, so terrified. What is happening to her? Lucky for her, or us, stage fright I understand intimately. And the last thing that will help right now, is extra pressure. I lean closer, but make sure not to touch her.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. You don’t have to play. I’m right here. But let’s try this, okay? Let’s just sit here for a minute, and if… when you feel ready to, just jump in, whatever you want, we’ll work around you. We do this all the time,” I say hoping it’s reassuring her.

“Marius. I just can’t.” She turns to me for the first time. Her eyes are frantic, panicked.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, I’m here, we’re going to get you through this,” I say and crouch down next to her, so I can look up into her eyes. “Just put your hands in your lap, and take a deep breath.” I coach her, keeping an ear out on what’s going on with the guys. Everything sounds great, not like we practiced, but hopefully the audience won’t really know the difference at this point.

She does as I say, and I see her shoulder rise and fall, the breath filling and emptying in her lungs. “Do you feel a little bit calmer?”

She takes another breath and nods her head slightly.

“Ok, good. Just keep breathing, that’s the most important thing.” I watch her for chest expand and deflate for a few seconds. “Now, in your mind, just play through those first few notes, can you hear them?”

“No.” She shakes her head immediately, her shoulders tensing.

“Anca. Don’t fight it. Clear your mind, just ignore everything. It’s just you and me here. Don’t give a fuck about the band or any of those people out there. Now try again. Visualize those first few notes. Can you hear them?”

There’s a pause, but something shifts in the air, an acquiescence. “Y-yes.”

“Play them over again. Louder. Stronger.”

“Okay.”

“Excellent, you’re doing so great. Now, when you’re ready, put your hands on the your harp, close your eyes and just feel the strings and the wood and the neck of your harp.”

Her fingers twitch in her lap and then I watch her light them, reaching for her instrument. She runs her fingers over her it, her eyes still closed. I see her hands relax from their rigid state, to soften and caress her harp. I know what that’s like, how that familiarity can change everything.

“How do you feel?” I prompt her.

“Okay.”

“You ready?”

She says nothing.

I ask her again, “Are you ready, Anca? You can do this. I believe in you.”

Her chest rises and I hear a whoosh of air.

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

I gesture my head to Brad who’s been watching and he wanders over to Seb, I can just his lips moving and suddenly the music pulls back, and they return to variation of the initial opening loop. They play it once, and I wait. But she doesn’t come in. I nod again to Jez who starts again.

“Come on, I’ll come in with you, okay?”

She nods.

One, two, three, four.

I pull my bow and play the first refrain of her entry. There’s a soft plucking from her harp, and I can see her fingers moving. I don’t stop just yet, playing along with her, letting my viola lead her and the sound from harp grows louder.

Louder and stronger with each note. Soon, the volume from her harp matches mine and I stop playing her melody and let my viola fade away.

The crowd catches on to the new sound, cheering her on.

I see a twitch at the corner of her mouth, and her breath grow shallow and her foot tap in time with the beat. It’s the same thing I’ve seen over and over again with my bandmates, when it stops becoming about us playing the music and letting the music travel through us.

She’s okay now.

I wander over to the guys, letting her shine center stage. Jez gives me a nod and I smile back.

Whatever happened, he knows.

And now he knows I know too.