Setting: Sometime after Violet sings the sing at the open mike night.
Rating: G
Language: Other than English… About nil.
Sex: In this? Heck nah! It's a short POV piece. Where could I possibly fit it in? Besides, you folks should know I'm pretty much anti-smut.
Disclaimer: I don't... oh forget it! You folks should know quite well I don't own 'Coyote Ugly' or anything associated with it… if you don't, you're a freaking moron.
It Wasn't the Lights
It wasn't the lights. It wasn't the lights that gave me the courage to sing that night. It was him. When I went to sing the song I just couldn't do it. When I went to sing y song, I couldn't. I felt all the symptoms that I had told Kevin about the night he had had wanted to hear me sing start to rise up… and, for the record, I think a few new ones cropped up, too. I looked into that crowd and I felt my heart beat-no, pound- so hard in my chest that I thought it would break my ribs. To add more to that, the lights were glaring down on me. I was sweaty, dizzy, and my vision was getting all blurry and fuzzy. But the topper was that I thought that the one thing that would have made it all bearable was gone. Really, despite my history of stage fright, I could have sung with almost no problems if I knew he was there. But, at the moment, I thought he was gone.
I heard the intro to my song play and I knew they were waiting for me to start singing. I couldn't breathe, my throat was tightening up on me, and I missed my mark. I heard it start again, and again and again and again. I opened my mouth to sing. But it was too dry, my through was too tight and I couldn't breathe. I couldn't sing. Then the lights went off. I looked instinctively over to the stage wings and there was Kevin, standing next to the light switch, smiling. I saw him there and I suddenly knew that he wasn't gone after all. That gave me the courage to sing. It was like it was just the two of us, him and me, all alone in the dark. He gave me the courage to sing, Kevin, not the lights. He stood there with that same charming smile of his that had won me over, and it was like my stage fright left me. Everything was suddenly all right again. He was there. Kevin was there and I could sing because of it, so I did. I began to sing, a bit softly at first, and then my voice gathered up some bass. The lights went up, and the band started playing as I continued to sing. Everything seemed perfect. I was singing with almost no fear at all. I looked into the faces of my audience and I wasn't afraid.
I owe Kevin so much. He pretty much saved my career that night. He also gave me his support and, best of all, his love. He was there, he saved me, and he loved me, and that's why I could sing. It was Kevin, it wasn't the lights.