This is an essay that I wrote for my midyears. Felt like posting it because I can. Enjoy!
This is also written in Kendall's point of view.
James has never been one to be intrigued busy the music industry. He had always been an athlete, constantly taking part in hockey matches outside school or volunteering at the neighborhood hockey rink, instructing hockey to juniors. Nobody took him seriously when he announced that he was trying out singing. Everybody close to James knew about his hockey incident when he was eleven. James had been to the frozen pond during the winter all alone, wanting to put his scoring skills to the test. His carelessness of not checking the ice for weak spots had him drowning seconds after setting foot on the solid water body.
Because of his duration in the ice water, James suffered from asthma. He was resilient, though. He got more active in hockey so he could strengthen his lungs. It wasn't that we had no faith in him as a singer, it was his choice of music. He wanted to be able to express himself through long notes and upbeat rhythms. I was worried he wouldn't be able to do it. It only made him even more motivated. Even though he had been turned down several times, his will to succeed never faded.
That ray of hope always shone in his hazel orbs, not once turning dull, not even after yet another phone call of rejection. He had totally abandoned his hockey career and focused solely on making music and writing musicals. Everybody questioned his sudden change of ambition but he never let a single hint escape.
After almost two years of nothing but phone calls of bad news, I told him to give up. As sad as it was, I lost faith in him. He went berserk. The vivid image of betrayal in his green-brown irises boring deep into mine haunts me till this day. It broke our friendship apart. It wasn't until he had landed his first role that I called him.
I had called to congratulate him but what I got was unexpected. He was willing to rekindle our friendship. It was only then that I realized how much he treasured our friendship. I was here to watch him play a minor role. As the scene played out on stage, I vowed to stay by him.
And stay I did.
I was there when he landed his first lead role, I was there when his written musical was chosen and I was there, watching him direct his very own show. I decided to go backstage after the show to congratulate him but I found something else.
He was talking to himself. I inched closer to eavesdrop and found out that he was holding a photograph of his late mother. I remember his words vividly.
"I did it mum. I proved them wrong," he whispered.
At that moment, I realized two things; Broadway was the only connection between James and his mother, and he didn't just treasure our friendship; he valued those closest to him.
I am proud to say, James' success was not only career-wise. He succeeded in spreading what he loved. Now, as I get ready for my first performance with my other friends directed by him, I glance over to see James doing his pre-show ritual. My heart warms up as he whispers, "Wish me luck," to a framed photograph of the woman that started it all. Just then, the booming of thunderous applause, muffled by the curtains, rings throughout the room as the red velvet fabric rises up.
Showtime.
And there we go.
Don't expect any updates anytime soon because I'm stuck. I'm planning to write at least three chapters ahead before I update.
Till then, much to all of you from Singapore! -heart-
Xoxo, Sasha.