Myka Bering was in New York. The New York. And she had just arrived at Juilliard. She had worked so damn hard to get here, and she was finally going to be a student at one of the most prestigious performing arts schools in the whole country. She couldn't be happier, not even if she tried. Her mom and dad had wanted her to stay in Colorado Springs and help them to run the bookstore, but she had other ideas. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life in Colorado Springs, wondering if she could have been a Broadway star. She didn't care if she failed, she was going to give it everything she had, and if she didn't make it – well, then at least she wouldn't have to regret not ever trying. Myka was smart enough to know that getting a scholarship to Juilliard was not an easy feat, so she knew she had enough talent to make it. She just had to work hard enough to be worthy of these hallowed halls.
She settled herself in her little room in Meredith Willson Residence Hall, looking around at her sparse belongings. It had been a tough day for her. She'd had to make her way alone to New York ("I'm not closing the store to take her to New York so she can waste her time playing at being an actress," her father had yelled, so incredibly supportive as always. But he was nice enough to get her a plane ticket – one way, of course...) and find her way here, to her new school, then talk to lots of new people in order to register and get her keys. People skills were not her strong point. She had mumbled and blushed her way through the whole day. But she was here! She sat on the narrow bed, hugging her knees to her chest, just revelling in finally being away from her father and starting the journey to where she wanted to be - Broadway. She had never been popular at school, but generally escaped being bullied too much by being beneath the notice of the popular girls. She avoided social occasions like the prom, instead working hard on her singing technique, her breathing, or reading about acting techniques, taking every extra class or seminar she could find that was in any way related to musical theatre, singing or acting, all the while watching her younger sister Tracy effortlessly become the Regina George of their high school. Tracy was going to be prom queen, Myka knew it. But she, Myka, the gangly, nerdy older sister, was at Juilliard, and she was going to be on Broadway. She settled herself under the covers quietly, allowing herself the rare treat of reading Jules Verne rather than reading some dry tome on acting technique or a biography of some actor or another that she wanted to emulate. She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.
The first few days on her course were a challenge. There were a lot of people in her class, more than she would have liked. She didn't speak to anyone on the first day, which was filled with introductions to the various parts of the course, but the second day a tall guy with close-shaved hair came to sit by her, introducing himself as Steve Jinks. He was shy too, he told her, so maybe they could be shy together? Myka blushed as she introduced herself, but something about his eyes told her that she could trust him. As it turned out, she and Steve had a lot in common. He was a loner too, and was obsessed with making it as a musical theatre star. Myka was surprised at how easily she could talk to this softly spoken guy. And the best thing was, he told her straight away that he was gay, so not to worry about him trying to hit on her. Myka had just looked at him, open mouthed. She had never met a gay person before (that she knew of) but her surprise was because Steve thought she needed to worry about being hit on by anyone. It hadn't ever happened – she'd literally never been kissed. Steve just smiled at her surprise and somehow she thought he understood that her reaction had nothing to do with him being gay and everything to do with her own insecurity about how she looked, who she was. From then on they were friends.
Somehow, being friends with Steve suddenly meant that she had a gaggle of people surrounding her at lunch and after classes. There was Claudia, a short redhead who was studying guitar and stage management – she couldn't make up her mind between the two, she had said, talking a mile a minute through a mouthful of fries. And there was Pete, a beefy guy who was studying acting and dance. He couldn't sing very well but he was really athletic and despite looking like he might be similar to some of the more unpleasant jocks at her high school, he was really sweet and funny. There was Abigail, an older girl who was really serious about drama and was going to be a real stage actress, doing Chekhov and all that heavy stuff. (Myka liked the idea of those kinds of plays but something in her couldn't get excited about theatre unless someone burst into song at some point. She blamed it on Glee.) She was really pretty with sleek dark hair and knowing eyes. Myka liked Abigail but she made Myka feel a little nervous, like she could see right into her heart. The last member of their little group was Helena Wells. She was from England, had already done some training at one of their performing arts schools but had decided to transfer to the US for some reason. Her accent was wonderful, caressing each word before releasing it into the air like a gift. She had long black hair and eyes that were as dark as Myka had ever seen. She was stunningly beautiful and incredibly charming and, if Myka had her way, she would have avoided the girl like the plague. Helena had all the traits of the mean girls from high school - popularity, confidence, beauty - and Myka had no desire to expose herself to those types again. But if she was to be Steve's friend, that meant being friends with Claudia, which meant Pete, which meant Abigail, and since for some reason Abigail seemed to like Helena, Myka was apparently now part of a group of friends which included a potential mean girl. She didn't know how Steve had even met all these different people, and she was stunned to find herself in this position when she had planned for solitude, which was all she was used to.
"So, Myka, I believe you are taking the same classes I am." The smooth voice that interrupted her musings was close to her ear and she jumped approximately four feet in the air before blushing and staring at her feet fixedly.
"Um, I guess?" she said. She had noticed Helena on the first day. The raven haired girl always sat in the back row, looking bored with all of the lectures they attended, but there was something arresting about the way she sat, toying with a pencil or a pen languorously.
"Do you do that a lot?" asked Helena.
"Do what?" Myka asked, confused and blushing even more fiercely.
"Blush when someone talks to you? Jump in the air?" Helena was smiling, trying to catch Myka's eye.
"Um, I don't know about the blushing, but I'm sorry I jumped. I was just thinking, I guess." She sneaked a quick look at the other girl and then hid her face again in her hair. Helena was smiling at her softly, a little puzzled at her reaction.
"Well, you are a fascinating creature, Myka Bering. I shall have to keep my eye on you." And with that, she was gone. But from then on, she kept her promise. She watched. Myka could always feel those dark eyes on her, like she was trying to figure out a puzzle that fascinated her.
The first three months at Juilliard went by in a blur. Myka had never been so tired. Or so happy. She had met new people, was studying hard and doing well in every class, and best of all, she got to sing her heart out every day. Her singing teacher, Ms Vanessa Calder, was an older lady who was a retired actress. By retired, she always said, she meant that she was too old to be the leading lady, and too young to be the mother of the leading lady. She was blonde and classically beautiful and effortlessly graceful. Myka thought Vanessa was one of the most amazing people she'd ever met. She had played every role Myka had ever dreamed of, and her singing voice was one of the most beautiful things Myka had ever heard. She had a way of always making Myka feel safe, and she clearly cared deeply about all of her students and their development. Myka had never learned so much about her voice from any of her teachers, and Vanessa made her feel confident about her singing in a way that she never had before.
It was at a Christmas carol service at a nearby church that Myka first realised how much trouble she was in. She loved the feeling of Christmas services, she didn't mind what denomination they were, and had made her way out quietly that evening without telling anyone. She didn't think Steve or Pete or the others would be interested in going, so she kept it to herself. She didn't particularly think of herself as religious, but there was just such a sense of magic in the candlelight of the church, the sound of the organ, and the raising of so many voices in shared song. And it was a shared song that would be her undoing. Her favourite carol was "O Holy Night," because the harmonies were so beautiful, so deep and vibrant. The song began on the church organ that night, and a female voice came on the first line, "O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining." Myka had her eyes closed. She had sung this part many times in the past at her local church. The voice that she heard that day was quite unlike her own light (but strong) soprano, however. It was rich and strong, full somehow of promises, with an intense quality that made Myka's hair stand on end. She somehow knew who that voice belonged to, and she was terrified to open her eyes to confirm the fact. Something told her that when her eyes met the eyes of the mystery singer, her future would be forever changed. She was right. When the choir swelled on the gorgeous harmonies of the last chorus and the voice hit the top note on the words "Behold your King," Myka couldn't bear it any more. She opened her tear-filled eyes and saw the woman standing in a circle of candlelight in front of the church choir, flames reflected in her dark eyes. It was Helena. Myka shivered. She fled the carol service as soon as the last note faded. She felt Helena's eyes follow her to the door. She never thought she would actually be pleased to be going back to Colorado Springs.