Everyone expected the newest season of the hit singing competition, "The Voice," to be even better than before. Teenage girls took down their posters of season seven winner, Craig Wayne Boyd, that were plastered on bedroom walls and locker doors in preparation for the upcoming season. (This way they could make room for the next dreamy winner of season eight.)

Adult viewers, on the other hand, bought bulk packages of popcorn to last them the entire season. You needed something to gnaw on other than your fingernails when the elimination rounds start.

Aspiring singers got tickets to the live show to see the contestants in person, wondering if that'll be them someday, singing on stage and working with some of the most top-notch artists in the music industry. The judges prepared for yet another tiring season of "The Voice" and welcomed Christina Aguilera back into the family.

The contestants, however, were all over the place.

Some were excited to be getting to perform in front of Adam Levine, who was pronounced the sexiest man alive in 2013. Many girls (and some boys) dressed to impress him, in hopes that they could win his heart.

Many were happy just to have gotten a spot on the show. Ask the thousands of people who tried out at open call auditions; they'd tell you that getting in was no easy feat. You'd have to have the right amount of raw talent and luck to get in, which were things a good handful of them didn't have.

And of course, there was the 99% of contestants that were sweating head-to-toe from the pressure. Charity Parker would get tremors every so often just thinking about the upcoming competition.

"Stop shaking," Her mother, Anne, said in the car that day, "You're gonna freak 'em out, making them think you're having a seizure."

Charity wrapped her knit sweater closer around her waist. "Ma, you know I can't help it," She replied, "I'm just so damn nervous."

Anne sighed and rolled her eyes as she took a left turn. "You gonna be just fine. I mean, you got the jitters just before open calls and you ended up getting into the show, right? This isn't any different. I mean, yes you're going to be in front of celebrities and such, but don't scare yourself over it. They're people, too." She squeezed her daughter's shoulder before positioning her hands back on the wheel. "Sometimes you just have to let things work out on their own, you know?"

Charity thought about the previous open call audition weeks earlier. She was glad that there wouldn't be any celebrity judges at the audition, just some producers deciding if she was good enough to officially audition for the show. But it still didn't ease off the major anxiety Charity had right before her audition, given she was so scared she would mess up a line or go off pitch. When she got a phone call half a month later saying that she got in, Charity had to replay the message multiple times just to see if it was a mistake or not.

"I know mama," Charity said, so quiet that the bacteria on her tongue couldn't even hear. She looked out the car window at the rolling hills speeding by, avoiding the clock to the left of her in fear that they were closer to the filming studio than expected.

Anne stayed silent, keeping her eyes zeroed on the fat yellow line in the middle of the road. She wasn't going to have this conversation again with her daughter, not after the millionth time she complained about being scared. The first two or three times were understandable, but that had gotten to be too much. It sounded awful coming from a mother's mouth, but sometimes Anne just wanted her daughter to buck up and hold her head high like all the other girls.

Years of silence filled the car for the remaining twenty minutes. Charity knew that putting on some Carrie Underwood music would only make the shaking worse, as any sort of music was a reminder of her upcoming auditions. Even her IPhone was turned off for once, which was a big deal in the Parker household. It was only a matter of time until she looked up to find the car parked in the studios main parking lot.

Anne turned off the engine, letting it die out and become silent. She grabbed her purse and stepped out to hold the door open for Charity.

"You coming?"

Anne stood next to the car, poking her head through the open door. Now that the engine was completely stopped, the only sound was the gum snapping around her yellowed teeth. Charity glanced away from her mother and curled up in the seat like a three year old throwing a tantrum.

"C'mon, Charity," Anne said, throwing her hands down, "Do I need to lift you outta there and carry you in over my shoulder? I will if you don't get out in the next ten seconds. 1… 2… 3…"

Charity stayed in a ball as her mother counted. She felt ridiculous, being treated like a baby and all. Popular people at her school like Jenna Mays probably didn't have their parents threaten to carry them around. You might as well have given Charity a diaper and a baby bonnet in that moment, because she sure was asking for it.

Anne got to ten and her daughter still hadn't budged. She was still sitting there, silent. Anne slipped herself back into the driver's seat, ready to drive off. She knew this would scare Charity into going.

"Okay, fine then. I'll just drive us home and tell them you were too much of a baby to show up. Do you want that?" Anne jingled her keys around for dramatization.

Charity untangled herself from her mess of limbs and pushed the car door open. "Fine."

She slammed the car door so hard that the entire minivan nearly shook itself to death. From inside, her mother gave her a dirty look crawling out. She had that face on that told you to prepare for an old-fashioned, butt-whipping scolding.

Charity stormed off towards the main entrance, hoping her mom would follow. She walked a few meters, letting her angry footsteps echo across the pavement. After a few seconds or so, she realized that Anne wasn't leaving her spot in the parking lot.

Charity whipped her head towards her mom, who was standing right next to the car. She had her arms crossed in a knot and her mouth was pressed into a ruler straight line. This couldn't be good.

"C'mon ma!" Charity yelled, "We're gonna be late!"

Anne ignored her daughter's directions, answering with only a loud snap of chewing gum, which she knew bothered Charity.

Charity stomped towards Anne, taking long strides that matched the pace of a car cruising down the highway. Her mom didn't even budge when she saw her daughter charging. She just stood there, chomping on her Wrigley's.

"What has gotten into you?" Charity said. "Quit acting like you're four, we gonna be late!"

Anne still didn't move. Instead, she calmly took her daughters hand and pulled her over to the side. "What has gotten into you?" She hissed, "Please, act your age for once. If you can't handle this show then I'll yank you right out of it!"

Charity gritted her teeth. "It doesn't matter now," She said, "I can't be late to this. We can talk later." She turned on her heel and headed towards the big steel doors ahead that had been daunting her for minutes. Charity thought she was finally getting away, until she felt a sharp tug on her wrist. She tried to free herself, but the hand was too strong.

"Charity Anna Parker," Anne said. "I'm warning you-,"

She stopped when she noticed the tears in her daughter's eyes. It wasn't so subtle at first, but when you get a good look, you could see the tears yearning to spill over. Like water threatening to splash out of an overfilled pool.

Anne wasn't sure if Charity was faking it or not, given that this wouldn't been the first time she brought on phony tears. However, just to be safe, she cooled her voice down a notch, letting the poisonous words fall down her throat. After all, Charity was under a monstrous load of pressure.

"Look," Anne said with a sigh, "Just take a deep breath. It will be okay, Charity. I just ask of one thing from you."

"What is it mama?"

"You go in there, and you give it your damned all."