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Looking up, my eyes widen. The entire theater is silent. My eyes meet Dena’s, and she jumps up and down with a smile and a giant thumbs up.
“Please, please tell me you can sing!” the director begs, dropping to his knees in supplication.
I giggle at his hysterics, and I can tell why he’s the director of this club.
“Umm maybe you can tell me if you think I can?” I ask, and he nods.
“Fair enough!” he exclaims, and the piano begins to play.
Oh shit. He means right now.
I grab the song piece from behind my lines and look over it.
Seeing that the piano bar is ending, I take a big breath and go for it. I haven’t sung in ages outside of the radio in the car, but in high school I drove to school with Lyra, and I didn’t want to open myself to ridicule. She’s already ruined so many things for me, I was afraid she would ruin this too.
As the song ends, I glance up. Everyone stares at me, I bite my lip, shifting my weight on my feet.
Frank stomps up the aisle aggressively, pointing at me. “You said you could maybe sing, you lied,” he says, and I stare at him as if I’m a deer in the headlights. “Has no one ever told you how well you sing?”
I shake my head, and the silence breaks. People cheer and clap, and I cover my mouth as I start to cry. This wasn’t the reaction I thought I’d get. Maybe I thought I would be booed off the stage?
And then I remember:
I am loved.
I am special.
There’s no one in the world like me because I’m me.
My self esteem is still so low, but I’m working on it. Dena runs on stage as I cry and jumps on me as she hugs me.
“You were fucking amazing, beautiful. We’ll have to remind you of it often, okay?” she says in my ear, and I nod, unable to talk from the emotion and adrenaline crashing in my body.
Today is teaching me that the words people have made me believe aren’t true. I am worthy of friends, trying new experiences, and doing the things that make me happy.
Dena walks me off stage, and someone hands her a soda. Popping the top, she hands it to me.
“We’re theater people,” she explains as I take a sip. “Big emotions, adrenaline crashing, and bursting into tears when you’re fucking amazing are all par for the course. Let’s go find the professor.”
We walk down the stairs, and the professor is talking to his assistants. “Ah, there you are. Doing alright?” he asks kindly.
This is so different from the man who was just boisterously yelling, but again my father is the same way, so I nod.
“Yes, this all,” I wave my hand around, “was a lot. I’ve never auditioned for anything before,” I explain.
Frank rolls his eyes next to him. “You should. You have the role, you just need to accept it. We’ll work together in rehearsals and have fun.”
“Will you be my Violet?” Professor Pales asks, grabbing my hand, and I can’t help but giggle.
“Yes. Please. I would very much like to be,” I tell him.
“Thank God, because I can’t see Violet as anyone else now,” he says, and I grin, taking another sip of soda to help with the shakiness I’m starting to feel. “You’ve had an exciting introduction to Drama Club,” he laughs. “Go grab something to eat, and I’ll see you at the next meet up.”
Dena and I start to walk out, and she bites her lip.
“So, I was trying to ask you this before, but I keep getting interrupted. So now that there’s no one around, can we maybe go on a date?” Dena asks, saying everything so quickly as if she’s nervous to ask.
Who could ever be nervous of me?
