CHAPTER 3
"Settle down, settle down, I SAID SETTLE… Down."
Miss Russell was shouting at the crowd of students who had filled the hall ready for the auditions of the official Glee club and become a bit unruly. There are two School halls. The one where 'The Crew' rehearse was really used as a gym, but before the school was extended it was the hall, and has always been know as just that. The one we were in now for the Glee auditions was known by the students as 'the other hall.'
It had been constructed as part of the large expansion of the school a few years ago. It was vast and held about 1200 people. The seating was layered as you would find in a cinema or theatre. We even had a balcony. We had all the gadgets, lighting and sound system. The focus of the room being a massive stage that swept in a curve around the bottom end of the room. There was a pit for the orchestra or band. Dressing rooms off to one side and a wardrobe/prop room on the other. Steps led down front the centre of the stage and at each wing. Everything was dark cherry wood, including the parquet floor. The walls were deep red and adorned with posters from past school productions. It had a magical feeling to it. I loved it in here. I spent hours on that stage pretending I was someone I wasn't.
I sit uncomfortably in the play directors seat a few rows in from the front, it has a desk built in. Normally the drama teacher or miss Russell, would sit here and shout at us to stop fidgeting during school plays and feed lines to those who forgot.
How many times had I sat at the back wishing I was centre stage with the lucky ones? As if my day dream had sprung legs and walked into the hall, in came the "lucky ones." 'The Crew.' Led by my super model worthy sister. Shrugging her blonde locks from her immaculate made up face, I frowned. Wriggling further down in my seat trying to go un noticed. Why did she get all that? I'm here with my olive skin, too-dark brown eyes and thick mane of brown hair. Just the word 'brown,' is boring. We try to dress it up, saying brunette is better, but its just, brown!
I had gone home crying to my mum one night when I was little, complaining that at school all the little blonde kids had got to be 'angels and stars' in the school nativity and I was stuck at the back in the choir as usual. My mum had tried to tell me that I was going to be a 'star' one day and I could sing like an 'angel', but really, at seven years old, I just wanted a piece of a tinsel in my hair!
It wasn't that I was ungrateful. I wasn't bad looking, just not on their scale. But my 'thing' was my music. I knew deep down that I did have a 'gift', my voice was above most others. I could hit the top notes with the best of them. I never really tried either, it just came natural. Miss Russell was helping me nurture it and use it to its full potential. Breathing techniques and the like. When I was shut away at home in the comfort of my room, a mirror as my audience, and a hair brush as my microphone. I felt like I could make it one day. But on stage, that was a problem. A BIG problem.
I was proper full on shitting myself, terrified of it.
The wanting to be famous and have everyone look at me, was definitely in my sisters genes, not mine. I was more than happy to blend in the back ground. I endured, and enjoyed choir, when we were all dressed the same, stood as one big group, I could let myself relax. I was camouflaged by the others. Even when I had a solo, I was never centre stage alone, I was just one of the team. But here I was about to have to face my fear, at the request of my favourite teacher. It had to be in front of Lizzie and Louisa, didn't it?
Miss Russell catches my eye, silently telling me its time. I take some long deep breaths. I have my music clutched in my hand. I know this song inside out. I'd practiced it so many times before I even knew there was a Glee club. This was easy.
Nothing to worry about.
I'm fine.
So, why won't my legs work? I'm am trying my best to stand right now and they just wont cooperate. I know miss Russell is eager to get things underway. We had interest from over fifty people wanting to audition. Time was moving on. I had to make my way to the stage and kick things off. Or be a laughing stock. I was team captain after all. How was I supposed to lead others when I couldn't convince my own legs to follow my plan? Without thinking I jumped, literally jumped, to my feet and hurried towards the stage. Feeling eyes burning into the back of my head. Anxiously looking around me seeing people without actually looking at them.
And ... oh yes, as if it couldn't get any worse ... as I climb the stairs to the stage to, as miss Russell puts its, 'show them what we need', in walks Fred, Harry and James. I catch his eye for a second and he smiles, before slipping into a seat beside Louisa. I reluctantly give my piece of music to the teaching assistant roped into playing the piano and step in front of the microphone, constantly repeating my mantra, 'they're not there, there's no one there, only you, only you.'
But its no good. My hands are already shaking, sweating. I'm wiping them on my jeans trying to calm down, blowing out long breaths, my chest heaving. It's as if I can hear them already heckling. 'Look at the state of her!' 'What is she doing up there?' 'Who does she think she is?' 'I bet she sounds terrible!' 'I bet she forgets her words!' Oh God Oh God OH GOD! What if I do sound terrible? What if I did forget the words? I need to get out of here. But now everyone's looking at me, if I turn and run now might it be even worse. I look for my support.
Miss Russell, stood in her normal position at the back of the hall, to make sure she can hear us, talks over the whispers that have begun since I took to the stage, no one really knows I can sing. I'm just one of the choir that occasionally gets a solo. I scan the audience looking for a friendly face. I finally rest upon Harriet Smith. My best friend since nursery, always smiling, always there for me. Medium height and build, with short glossy black hair she wore in a 'Chicago' style bob that suited her no end, and made her green eyes stand out. My dad always referred to her as being 'as average as her name'. My mum would always reprimand him for that, she loved Harriet, and when she passed away, Harriet was there for me when no one else was.
Lizzie being the older sister should really have stepped up and took care of my little sister Mary and I, but no, she was a daddy's girl. After herself, she had to make sure he was okay. Mary and I were a distant third. I don't know why she's here now, I can tell by miss Russell's smile she's under the misapprehension she's here to support me. On cue, she's on her phone, her eyes glued to its screen rather than the stage where her little sister is performing to a hall full of judging peers. Miss Russell has noticed, her face now scowling.
I steady myself knowing that if I don't quieten down my breathing, the audience won't be able to hear my singing over the sound of it thudding.
Maybe that would be a good thing?
I catch miss Russell's eye and I know I have to do this, I need to do this. I can do this.
The first few notes of the piano fill the hall and as every one quietens down, I take a deep breath in, open my mouth and begin to sing.
I've picked an Adele number that I knew I'd rocked at home. Hoping it didn't sound as bad as it did in my head. Through out the song I have my vision on a loop, a circuit I know is safe and will keep my mind occupied on something other than the sheer horror of what I am doing. I look at miss Russell smiling proudly, then to Harriett's cheerful grin, then to Lizzie, although she doesn't look up at me it works just the same, then to the fire exit in the back left corner, and back to miss Russell again. This can work. I already half way through, it's working.
I manage to relax myself long enough to think about the words;
"….I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before. Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all. You never know if you never try…."
My hands slide up and down the microphone stand. I even manage to soften enough to sway slightly from my 'Beefeater' like pose.
I finish.
There's silence.
No booing or heckling, no hurtful remarks, just silence. I scan the audience looking for some sort indication I didn't blow it. I find myself locked with a pair of gorgeous blue green eyes smiling and suddenly, I feel like I nailed it.
Lizzie and Louisa are already getting up to leave.
I stand for a moment not sure what to do next, then Miss Russell, obviously noticing my distress, takes to the stage, giving me a quick wink, takes the microphone from my shaking hands and announces,
"something like that, is what I'm looking for."
