A/N: In light of the recent AK interviews, I decided to publish this one-shot which I was going to incorporate into another story. AU, of course (clearing throat). I realize it's short, but I hope you enjoy.
Beca was pacing behind the curtains which led to the huge outdoor stage at the festival. Her nerves were on end as she thought about the interviews that were released the day before where she had stepped out on her sexuality. The social media reaction had been bananas. She was thanking her lucky stars that this event was scheduled after the interviews.
The singer and producer knew that her most loyal fans were going to be supportive no matter what the interviews revealed. She chuckled when she thought about what one of her gay boyfriends told her a few weeks ago when she'd been weighing how to handle things. "Oh honey-child, your fans are exactly like your parents and your best friends. They always know before you do. You won't be telling anyone anything about yourself that they don't already know. Everyone around you is just waiting for you to accept yourself."
Regardless of what the members of her closest support system did to reassure her, Beca was still concerned about her reputation and her appeal to the general market. Would her mass appeal wane as the other side of her fan base were repulsed by the singer coming out of the closet in an interview or by the speech she was about to give? So many things were running through her head.
One of the event organizers came back stage to find her. "Ms. Mitchell? How are you doing?" The brunette nervously nodded her head and she bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet. "We are almost ready for you." Sensing the star's nervousness, she added, "It's okay. They already love you. You'll do great!" The singer gave a weak smile.
Beca had been second guessing what she chose to wear to the pride event, but the Atlanta weather was so muggy and miserable that she soon forgot her discomfort at her clothing. Her skin-tight jeans were ripped in all the right places letting air flow to cool off her legs. She had abandoned her trademark flannel over-shirt and decided to wear just a tank top tucked into her jeans. Her black combat boots finished off the ensemble. At the last minute, another organizer tossed her a Love is Louder baseball cap which she slapped on her head before strutting out.
The emcee began his presentation of the next speaker. "Our next guest today doesn't exactly need an introduction. She has released multiple platinum albums and has too many Grammy awards to name. Please put your hands together and help me welcome - the one, the only Beca Mitchell." Of course, the crowd began cheering at the top of their lungs.
She stood at the microphone sheepishly waiting for things to die down before yelling out. "Hey Atlanta! How ya doing?" Beca was feeding off the energy of the crowd and felt much more comfortable than she had just a few minutes ago. Singing in front of lots of people – no problem. Speaking - problem. "Damn people. It's HOT out here today."
Several cat calls and wolf whistles erupted in the crowd. "You're HOT Beca!" Several female voices were ringing out from throughout the audience. Beca's face flushed with embarrassment.
"How about those Braves?" Beca was stumbling as she threw out a sports analogy, not knowing exactly how she wanted to start her speech. She had put a great deal of thought into what she wanted to say but had failed to plan how to start. "I don't know a whole lot about baseball, but I'm throwing out the first pitch tonight – pretty cool, huh? I hope they don't kick me out of the stadium!" She put her fingers on her chin in a thoughtful gesture. "Come to think about it, do I even know how to throw a baseball? Oh well." Laughter spread throughout the crowd.
"But that's not why we are here today. We are here today to talk about us. Our people, your community, our community. I am so glad that I was invited to speak today at this event which coincided with my recent interview. As you know, I've always been tight-lipped about my personal life. Regardless I'm here today, standing before you starting a new chapter in my life."
Beca readjusted the microphone and fiddled with the note cards in front of her. She also had a teleprompter with her speech scrolling across. Honestly she wasn't going to need either since these words were coming from her heart, and she knew them inside and out.
"I offer each of you out there today a challenge. Take a long hard look at your closet door. Do not think that I demand you to out yourself. I know how long it took me to be honest – not only with myself but also with the public. Trust me, I know how difficult it can be – work, family friends… Simply take a look at it, your closet door. Study it. Is your door a metal one? Impenetrable? Unbreakable? Is your door solid wood? Does the wood grain blend in swirling patterns of knots - the deadbolt securely fastened? Is your door hollow? Does it offer you simple protection against friendly thieves? Or will it smash with a simple shoulder push?"
The crowd had grown completely silent, hanging on every word spoken by the singer as she developed the imagery.
"Feel your door - learn the texture - know the smoothness. Lean against it with your head - turn around and rest your back upon it. Let it support you. What's on the other side of that door? What's out there waiting for you? What's out there waiting for your children... for their children?"
She took a deep breath before continuing. Beca stretched out her hand like she was reaching for a door knob. "Then slowly touch the handle. Open the door - carefully and look out. You don't have to walk out of your closet. You are safe inside - because regardless of how thick or thin your door is - it can always be closed. But just look around - as far as you can see - just sit there with the door open."
Beca paused, letting the silence speak volumes. "See - you aren't going to be visible to anyone. To anyone except the person who looks in that door - looks for you - looks to see what you are doing. You know - you can see a lot with that damned door just open."
"With that door open, you can say to your co-worker - to your uncaring cousin..." Beca shook her finger at the crowd like she was scolding someone. "'You know - that comment you made about the dykes walking down the street wasn't very nice. It makes me uncomfortable to be around you if I know you are capable of saying something like that about another human being.'" Many of the audience members awkwardly shifted as they undoubtedly thought of situations in which they had been made uncomfortable by a bigoted friend or family member.
The singer was on a roll, and her voice became stronger, louder. "Who knows - a simple word might be all it takes for that person to take a peek into your closet. Or hey - they might just walk away and leave you alone. That person may still think the horrible thoughts, but at least they will think twice about spouting their bigotry around you anymore. To me, that's a small step forward; I'll take it."
She smiled as she looked across the crowd holding onto her words. Taking the mic out of its holder, she began to walk around the stage again. "You know - if you get comfortable looking out that door, seeing what you can see from the safety of the closet, one day you might decide step out." She acted like she was stepping across an imaginary line. Looking around, a look of awe crossed her face as she moved around the stage, acting out her words. "Wow... You can see soooo much more if you peek out. You can see what's beside you - around you - behind you." "You might decide you like it out there."
Beca settled back in the center of the stage. "I'm not asking you to come out. Lord knows it took me until I turned 33 for myself. I am asking you to just take a look around your closet and see if you're comfortable. Think about if you would really like more room outside... maybe just by looking out an open door - or periodically stepping out."
The crowd was mesmerized by the words spoken by the musician who had just admitted to the world she was a lesbian a few days ago. "I've lost my anger over the situations I faced before coming out." Beca shook her head. "There's no use in permanent anger. I just wish we, as a community, would take the small steps that are laid out for us. Each time we peek out, each time we speak out - we are increasing tolerance. Even if it's just a little - it's better than nothing."
Beca looked around at all of the people at the festival. A true sense of pride filled her chest. "What do you say Atlanta? If ALL of us did just a little - it'd add up to a great big bunch! I'm Beca Mitchell, and I'm proud to say that I'm gay!"
A/N: I wrote the main body of this in the mid-90's when coming out was way more difficult than it is now. However, I know that many still struggle today. I'd definitely love to hear your feedback. All reviews are welcome.