Page 83 of Lyrebird

The dancers line up around her, stretching their legs up and back behind their earlobes. They pat each other on the backs, on the arses, good luck. The choreographer, Gloria, oversees the routine; she’s dressed in black, heavy black eyeliner and the usual scowl on her face as she throws her eyes over everything and judges, calculates, appraises and adjudicates everything everyone says and does, not just how they dance. She catches Laura looking at her and starts to give her last-minute orders. Her face is all screwed up, twisted, and Laura tries to pay attention but all she hears is the sound of a corkscrew being twisted open, until it pops.

Gloria frowns. Laura’s not sure how to explain herself.

Tommy motions her forward. Laura’s stomach lurches. Everyone looks at her in surprise as she realises the vomiting sound has come from her. That time when she was new to foraging and chose the wrong mushrooms. Tommy looks at her, eyes wide and alarmed, unsure if she’s serious or not, but treating her as if she has actually physically vomited, so convincing was the retching sound. The last time she felt this nervous Solomon had helped her. She recalls the feel of his breath in her ear, his scent so close to her. He’d told her she was beautiful. His presence always calmed her and she longs for him to be here, but knows it was she who walked away from him. It’s her fault he’s not here.

‘Are you okay? Water?’

His pupils are dilated. The panic, the fear, a live fucking show and the star has lost it.

‘I’m fine,’ Laura says shakily.

She follows him to the stage, and as soon as she takes the few steps upward the crowd erupts in applause and cheers. Laura smiles shyly at the reaction, feeling less alone. She waves and takes her place on the stage, standing on the white mark that’s her opening spot. A woman in the front row grins, showing all her teeth, and gives her the thumbs up. Laura smiles. They’re just people. Lots of people. More people in one room than she’s met in her entire life, but it’s never the people she’s worried about – it’s herself.

Tommy counts down to the return of the show. One minute. Dancers take their places, form their dramatic opening positions. Laura’s heart thumps in her chest, so loudly she’s sure the whole room can hear her. Suddenly the crowd explode with laughter and she realises that it was her making the heartbeat sound.

She looks at Jack and he’s grinning. He winks. He looks exhausted as Harriet from make-up powders his face. He looks how Laura feels.

Laura stands in the centre of the enormous stage, the dancers getting in place, the cameras in position while Laura’s VT plays.

‘The last week has changed my life completely. I went from a very quiet life in Cork to suddenly everyone knowing my name.’ Footage of her walking down Grafton Street, then a crowd chasing her. It’s all sped up, as though it’s an old Laurel and Hardy film. Posed, of course. Filmed yesterday – or was it this morning? And then they air the words she was unsure of saying. She had wished to phrase them differently and they had kindly allowed her to, but then they wanted one take to be said and done their way, for them to have. Naturally, that’s the take they use, each sentence sharply edited, her face zoomed in on closer for each one and made more dramatic by a booming drum to emphasise the stakes.

‘I don’t want to go back to being who I was.’ Boom.

‘This is my one chance to shine.’ Boom.

‘The whole world is watching me.’ Boom.

‘I’ll fight for my place in the final.’ Boom.

‘Watch out world.’ Boom.

‘The Lyrebird is coming.’ Boom.

Laura cringes at the sound of her own voice. It sounds as empty as she had felt while saying it. She doesn’t even like that girl. She doesn’t like the girl they’re trying to portray. Doesn’t like the girls like her that are sitting at home, thinking about the one time in their lives that they will have to prove themselves. No such thing exists. Nothing so great ever hinges on one such moment.

Suddenly the music starts, she feels the beat in her chest, the lights go up, the crowd cheer. It’s showtime.

She starts walking. She’s on a treadmill, behind her on the large screen is footage of the woods. It’s animated. And it moves so that she appears to be walking through the forest. Her long blonde hair is tied into two braids that sit on each shoulder tied with two girlish red ribbons. She’s wearing a puffy-shouldered mini dress, a blue-and-white gingham apron and she holds a straw basket. She’s not sure if she’s supposed to be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz or little Red Riding Hood. She didn’t care much when they’d shown her the costume after she’d gotten off her flight from Australia.

She wears white pop socks and red Mary-Jane heels.

The music playing is ‘If You Go Down to the Woods Today’, but a kind of remixed dance version. She makes the sound of her high heels on the ground and the audience laughs. Realistically, she’d told Gloria and anyone who’d listen that her heels would not make such a sound on the earth floor, but they’d explained it was a heightened reality. Laura comes across a house in the woods, it’s made from sweets. She eats some, licks some, making appropriate sounds and the crowd laugh. She makes a knocking sound on the door, the door opens and three sexy female pigs run out, chased by a male wolf. Laura peeks inside, she sees a handsome bear man – a topless male dancer. She tries out the three different men until she finds the one that’s just right. She moves across the stage, making appropriate sound effects that she was told to make, slapstick comedy, ducking and diving in Laurel and Hardy mime, making sounds in all the right places. It is quite the production; wardrobe must have hired out every panto costume going.

After a dance routine where Laura awkwardly tries to keep up with the three sexy pigs, the three hunky bears and the others who are dressed as sexy woodland creatures, Laura ends up with the hunkiest bear of them all. He’s just right. A red heart-shaped spotlight frames them.

StarrQuest special guest judge, drafted in for the semi-finals, star of stage and screen with her own stage school, Lisa Logan is on her feet clapping, hoping she’ll make it to the viral clip which will boost her flagging career. Laura steps on the thumb mark in the centre of the stage and waits for the judges’ feedback.

‘Lyrebird, hi,’ Lisa says excitedly. ‘Out of all the contestants tonight, I, like the rest of the world, was most excited to see what you’d deliver. I must admit, despite your obvious talent, I was confused as to how that would transfer into showbusiness – how can you make sounds viable? Relevant? How can sounds be commercial? But you’ve shown us tonight that it can be done. This is exactly the kind of cabaret/Vegas-style route that you should go down. You’re young, you’re sexy, you’re talented. You have ended this show on a high. Whooo!’ she screams, punching the air. The audience join in.

Lisa Logan gives Lyrebird a gold thumbs up.

Laura is surprised by her excitable reaction. They really see her doing this as a career? Does she even want to do this?

Silence for Jack’s response.

‘Lyrebird,’ he rubs his stubble awkwardly, as if struggling with how to say it. ‘That was awful.’

Boos from the crowd.