G'day!
Welcome to the second instalment of this story, Anything But Mine.
I hope you're all going well amongst the crazy world we live in. Every day could be our last, so make sure you remind your siblings how ugly they are. Nah, kidding. Well, you can if you want. Now... when I published the first chapter for this story, I mentioned that this story was long overdue...well, I can say the same about this chapter. Hell, it has taken seven months. Then again, it did kinda hit the back shelf for the last couple of months while I was completing chapter 8 for Eye of the Tiger. With the completion of that chapter, I could allocate some time back to this story. When I'm working on this stories, I like to alternate days. One day I'll work on Eye of the Tiger, the next day I'll work on this story. That way, I'm doing something different every day. It keeps the mind from becoming bogged down in a particular chapter of either work.
This chapter is, I guess you could call it part two of the prologue. It also contains personal reflections, but also some insights into what to expect later on in the story, too... so hope you enjoy those segments. Something I'd like to mention before we get further into this story - I have next to zero knowledge about musical instruments and song writing. I don't do either, so the content in this story is written based on the very basic research I've done. So, if you are musically educated and spot something that isn't correct, do not hesitate to let me know. And I'm more than happy for you to explain, in however much detail you like, why it's incorrect. I'm more than happy to adjust whatever the context is to make it correct. Other than that, don't really have much else to say without spoiling the chapter, so, rather than dribble on about something random, let's get into the story. But first...
A special thanks to Starless Echoes for leaving a review on the previous chapter. Hopefully you remember what that chapter contained. To everyone else, thank you for taking the time to read my works. I highly encourage you to leave a review. Reviews are an extremely helpful guide for me to understand how these chapters are being perceived. Without reviews, I'm working off my own judgement, and while I do my best to make sure these chapters are of the highest quality that I can produce, getting feedback is invaluable. I'm not asking for long essay-like reviews. If there's something you liked about a chapter, let me know. If you think something could be improved on, let me know. The only way I'll know is if you tell me. If you'd rather send me a PM, that is also fine. My PMs are open anytime. All reviews (or PMs) are welcomed (as long as they're acceptable), whether it's positive feedback or constructive criticism. Your reviews will help shape this story, so don't be afraid to share your thoughts. I'll respect the time you take to leave a review.
Anyway, I think that's enough dribble for now. You've waited many months for this chapter...
Disclaimer 1: All characters used in this story are property of DreamWorks (the settings are AU).
Disclaimer 2: All songs used in this story are recorded by Kenny Chesney (yes... songs. Meaning more than one song may be involved in this story...)
Without further ado, I proudly present to you... Anything But Mine - chapter 2!
Please Read, Review & Enjoy!
Anything But Mine - Chapter 2
The last few weeks of Po's degree flew by faster than a tracer bullet, and while they were to most important, and stressful, weeks of Po's life, it surprised him when he made it through to the other side. Sure, it is frightening knowing the fate of your degree, and future, depends on how you utilise the time you're given to complete those exams. However, Po's determination to complete his degree overshadowed the intimidating exams that stood between him and freedom. After preparing and sitting through many exams, one would think they would become accustomed to them, and the stress they inflicted upon you, but every time, no matter the topic, the mind plays tricks on you. When exam day arrives, your anxiety skyrockets to overwhelming levels, almost making you forget everything you had studied.
Despite the nerve-wrecking challenges Po faced with each exam, he survived, and could now enjoy life after university. Although, Po couldn't enjoy the freedom too much. He hadn't received his results yet. Anyone who has waited for their results to be released would understand how anxious the mind becomes. It creates all these far-fetched scenarios, making your anxiety worse as each day passes. Sometimes you feel confident in yourself, then ten minutes later, you're wondering whether anything you wrote in the exam was correct. The best thing you can do after any exam is to leave. Get yourself something to eat and let your mind relax for a bit. You don't wanna be bringing any unnecessary stress upon yourself.
Since completing his exams a few weeks ago, Po had been checking his emails daily, hoping his results had been published, but every time he checked, there was nothing. Now, Po is an extremely patient fella, but this was pushing his patience to the limit. He was dying to know whether he had passed, but he couldn't do anything to rush the results. All he could do was wait. One evening, Po was in his room, strumming his guitar, when he received a notification on his phone. It was from his campus. They had released the results. Not wanting to wait another minute, Po threw his guitar onto his bed and rushed over to his laptop, but something stopped him from opening the email from his university.
This was the moment he had been waiting for, but was he ready to see his results? Not really, but he wanted to end the misery. After staring at his laptop for five minutes, too anxious to open the email, a burst of confidence arose from nowhere, taking over his bodily functions. Without thinking, his right index finger clicked on the mouse, which opened the email. What he saw shocked him so much he nearly jumped out of his pants. He couldn't believe it. Surely someone had made a mistake. How could he have received such scores? It stunned him. Po was expecting scores somewhere around the seventy to seventy-five mark, but never did he expect to receive anything like this. For both exams, too!
He didn't know what to think. These were very unexpected results, but they were scores he'll accept with his arms wide open, before running off into the distance… just in case someone had made a mistake. No way did he want these scores taken away from him. Not when he sat there, staring right at them. Though he still doubted whether it was true, no matter how many times he opened and closed the email, his results never changed. These results guaranteed the completion of his degree, bringing much welcomed relief to Po's mind. He had done it. After four intense years, he could let his mind relax. However, that didn't last long. No sooner after realising he had completed his degree, his mind turned straight onto his upcoming trip.
Now that he had received his results, passed his exams, and completed his degree, nothing stood between him and Myrtle Beach. Well, except hundreds of miles of land, but you get the gist. The only thing Po could think about now was Myrtle Beach. He could almost smell the ocean. Feel the sand beneath his feet. Hear the cries from the car-
"What are you grinning so widely about, son?"
Po snapped his head to where his father's voice had come from. "Huh?" While he was daydreaming about Myrtle Beach, Po had somehow found his way to the kitchen, where Mr Ping was currently preparing dinner. Though the beaming smile on Po's face had morphed into a confused expression, Mr Ping could see the excitement flooding Po's eyes.
"What's got you all excited? You've been nothing but stressed for the past six weeks."
"Oh, I finally got my results, Dad!"
Mr Ping looked at Po with a raised eyebrow, waiting for his son to elaborate, but nothing followed. "Aaand? How did you do?"
An enormous grin redeveloped on Po's face as he struggled to contain his excitement. "You wouldn't believe it, Dad! I scored over ninety percent for both exams! How insanely awesome is that?!"
Mr Ping's eyes widened, both astonished and proud of his son's results. "That's wonderful, Po! Oh, I'm so proud of you, son!"
Po's smile grew a little wider, chuffed at his father's response. "Thanks, Dad. I wasn't expecting anything like that, but it's such a relief. I've finally finished my degree."
Mr Ping resumed chopping the various vegetables required for their dinner. "No wonder you're grinning from ear-to-ear. You've done extremely well, son. It is almost impossible to believe you've finished your degree."
Po chuckled, with his grin somehow widening even more. "Yeah, I know. Those four years flew by so fast, but now I can look forward to Myrtle Beach. WOOHOO!"
"Settle down, Po. We have to prepare for your graduation, but first, let's get dinner finished, shall we? Then we can celebrate you completing your degree."
"Okay, Dad." Po joined his father in the kitchen, helping him prepare dinner. On the menu tonight was spicy tofu stir-fry. Not their most popular dish, but one that attracted plenty of attention from their customers. While preparing dinner, Po acted in pilot mode, preparing the vegetables for the stir-fry as his father watched over the large wok that rested on the hot stovetop. His mind wondered elsewhere, thinking about Myrtle Beach. He had heard so many wonderful things about Myrtle Beach, and while he knows it won't disappoint him, he hoped there wouldn't be any issues during his trip. Being his first solo trip, Po didn't know what to expect, which wasn't a terrible thing, but if something went wrong, his lack of experience would leave him a little stuck for solutions.
That didn't mean Po wasn't excited about going to Myrtle Beach. He was beyond ecstatic about going away, especially to a place he had heard so many wonderful things about, yet had never seen it for himself, but if something went wrong, it'd be more bad luck than anything else. He couldn't let those scenarios intimidate him, though. This was something Po had planned to do to celebrate finishing his degree. Sure, he could spend some time working on his music, but he felt the need to have a break from everything. After the trip, it would be almost two months since he last looked at his music, and that would be more than enough time to rejuvenate himself.
The one thing Po is slowly adjusting to is the amount of spare time he now has on his hands. When you're studying, you don't realise how much time you're dedicating to your studies until you're not studying. You get some idea during the breaks, but that's short-lived. Once you complete a degree, you gain all this extra time, and you're unsure how to use it. One minute, it's twenty minutes past midnight as you're sitting in your room, cramming as much information as you can into your memory. Not the most effective way to study, but you still do it. The next thing you know, you're standing on some random stage, facing hundreds of people, after receiving your degree testimonial.
Inside that folder contains documents which summarise what you have dedicated the past few years of your life towards. Sometimes, the achievements you have accomplished don't hit you straight away, and while the blinding lights shining into your eyes don't help, when it hits, it hits hard. After spending the past few years of your life stressing through hundreds of hours of intense study, it takes time to adapt to the sudden changes. It feels strange. You feel like there's something you should be doing, which forces you to become unnecessarily stressed when there's nothing to be stressed about. Life after university is different. There's a different stress to adulthood. The one thing that doesn't change, though, is how fast life passes when you're not thinking about it.
As Po stood on that stage, looking out into the theatre, full of family members from his fellow graduates, the moment he saw his father in the audience carrying the biggest smile he had ever seen from his father, he knew to treasure this moment. That this was something he'll never experience again. He had to cherish, enjoy, and live in the moment, because when he leaves that theatre tonight, he's walking into the next phase of his life. A phase full of unknowns, but a crucial time of his life. It is a time where establishing stability strengthens the foundations of his life. Without that stability, life can fall apart, leaving you lost searching for the right direction. A different type of stress comes into life.
You don't stress about today or tomorrow, but where you want your life to be in five or ten years, and how to get there. The future may be a mystery, but what you do today shapes the future you live. Sometimes it requires years of hard work and unbroken dedication to achieve your dreams, but if you put in the effort, the effort shouldn't go to waste. Everything you do needs to have a purpose. It doesn't matter how trivial it seems. If you're doing something that will positively influence your life or other people's lives, then it is worth the time and effort. That's why Po loves music. It is why he's desperate to find that breakthrough, not only to kick start his career in the music industry, but to bring joy to people through his music.
As an artist, you want people to experience what you have experienced or feel the emotions that you're feeling when you create songs. There's nothing more important about song writing than letting the emotions shine through. Whether it is sad or happy emotions depends on the experience a song writer has gone through, and how they want to portray those experiences during a song. If those emotions can be expressed, people will understand the emotions and meaning behind a song, allowing them to connect with the lyrics that are being sung. When you're at a live concert, everyone that's there is there for the same reason you are. You all share this powerful connection.
Natural disasters and wars bring people together in times of need, but music (and sports) brings people together in times of celebrations. It brings people together because they care about the songs, the music, the connection, and there's nothing else in the world that does that. The next time you attend a live concert, and you're amongst the audience bellowing out the lyrics to your favourite songs, take a moment to stand back and listen. Listen to the power and energy our voices create when they combine. It's mesmerising. There's nothing more powerful than hearing thousands of people singing together. You get goosebumps from listening to it. Nothing else in the world does that.
As Po laid in his bed thinking about the power music possessed, he wasn't planning to take his guitar with him to Myrtle Beach, but who was he kidding? His guitar was everything to him, and while he didn't plan to play it the entire time, it couldn't hurt bringing along. Besides, an idea can come from anywhere, and the last thing he wanted was to let those ideas slip through his mind. Every thought could be the beginning of his breakthrough, so having his guitar could become handy on a rainy day or whenever. There was one problem, though. To pack his guitar with his luggage, he'd have to get out of bed, but he was waaaaaaaaaaaaay too comfortable to move a muscle.
He knew he'd forget to bring his guitar if he didn't place it with his other stuff now. After expelling a long sigh, Po got out of bed, placing his guitar next to his travel gear, before returning to bed. Now all he had to do was fall asleep. Was he looking forward to waking up at four in the morning? No, but the excitement about starting his trip countered those thoughts. Although, the excitement was also keeping him awake. He just needed to clear his mind, allow his body to relax and drift off to sleep…
The last of daylight faded behind the ocean, allowing the artificial lights from the beachside festivals and carnival rides to display their true luminescent spectacle. Anyone not used to the flashing bright neon lights would become susceptible to dizziness, feeling like you've entered another dimension. Especially if you've grown up away from all the city lights where your eyes aren't used to such things. That can amplify the effects they have on you, making you feel nauseous, which was the current state of Po's mind. His vision was a blur and the screams coming from the crowd of people he found himself amongst weren't helping his state of mind. Po doesn't have issues with large swaths of people, but right now, he needed to get away from everything and regain his composure before he threw up.
After meandering his way through the crowd, he found himself on a moonlit beach. While walking further away from all the lights and screams, an epiphany crossed his mind, stopping him in his tracks. Well, several things crossed his mind. To start, where the hell was he? Po turned around, looking at where he had just come from. The sight before his eyes left him confused, but somewhat amazed. He didn't know what to think. Carnival rides and other amusement parks lined the entire beach. The place he had just come from appears to have been in front of a stage. Was he at a concert? But nobody was on stage. Perhaps it had ended, explaining the screaming crowds.
Confused and slightly disorientated, not knowing where he was, Po turned around, seeing nothing but the moonlit ocean for as far as his eyes could see. He was in a strange place, somewhere, presumably, miles from home, but after staring out into the glistening waters of the ocean, he knew he was on the coast of somewhere beautiful. What coast that was remained unknown, but its beauty made Po want to explore it, hoping to find some clarity on his location. Despite having walked about a hundred metres from the beachside concert, if that's what it was, the carnivals illuminated the beach, providing him with enough light to scan his surroundings. Perhaps the lights had gotten to him more than he thought.
Po still had no idea where he was, but as he scanned his surroundings, one place popped into his mind. He had seen this setting many times before. Here he stood, facing a long, never-ending beach with carnival rides all along the beachfront. Po may have never been to this place before, but somehow, he found himself on a beach, observing a seaside amusement park in full operation. It wasn't just any beach, though. He was standing on Myrtle Beach. How he had gotten here was another question needing answers, but with his bearings gaining some senses, Po became less paranoid, and more captivated by the sights before him. He had always wanted to be here, and despite the astonishing sights that laid before his very own two eyes, Po couldn't help but wonder if he had gone insane.
"PO!" a voice called out, making Po jump six feet into the air. It wasn't his father's voice, nor a voice he recognised. The voice sounded… feminine? Curious to know who this voice belonged to, Po turned around, but the sight he saw nearly made his jaw drop to the sand. A female, looking of similar age to Po, came running over to him, wearing a tropical dress, with orange as the dominant colour. Though her attire made her look impeccably cute, that wasn't what caused Po to almost lose control of his jaw. The full moon's reflective light shined down on her vibrant orange hair, with dark streaks running through it, making her hair appear on fire as she approached Po. "What are you doing way down here?" Po's lack of response caused the girl to become concerned. "What's wrong? You look like something has spooked you."
Despite the girl showing concern for Po, he remained confused, wondering how she knew him. "Umm… do I know you?"
The girl crossed her arms, raising her eyebrow while looking at Po, unamused. "Don't be silly, Po. You know who I am." HIs confused face didn't change, though, making the girl become impatient, grabbing onto his arm, and pulling him away from the ocean. "Come on, Po. We don't have time to mess around now. The contest is about to start." This caused Po to stop in his tracks, unsure about the girl's intentions. As a result, the girl lost her grip on his arm, making her look back at Po, frowning in confusion at his unusual behaviour. "What is going on with you? You're acting like you don't know me. I'm Tigress… remember? Would have thought you'd know me by now."
Po didn't know what to say, but her name brought some weird déjà vu feeling to him. Like he had heard that name before, yet couldn't figure out from where. Whatever was happening, Po didn't want to make this Tigress girl become impatient with him. She was being kind and showing concern for him. Few girls have acted this way towards Po; he didn't want to ruin that. "Sorry. I guess I just needed some fresh air. All the people and lights were getting a little too much for me."
Tigress glanced at Po, showing the smallest of smiles. "Hope you're prepared to get back amongst them, then."
Po looked at Tigress, confused. "What? Why? What do you mean?"
Her smile grew a little wider, amused at his continued confusion. "You don't recall wanting to enter the contest?"
"Ahhhh… what contest?"
Po's response caused Tigress to sigh. "Those lights really have gotten to you, haven't they? They're having a singing contest at the Seaside Pavilion. Do you not want to partake in it anymore?"
"I mean… any singing contest is fun, but I'm not prepared."
Tigress placed her hand on Po's left shoulder. "You'll be fine."
"How do you know?"
The smile on Tigress' face turned into more of a smirk. "You know why. Now, come on!"
"I do? WOAH!"
Tigress grabbed Po's hand and ran back towards the Seaside Pavilion, dragging Po with her. Everything was happening faster than Po could comprehend. He was still trying to figure out how this Tigress person knew him. She looked awfully familiar, but he couldn't understand why she looked so familiar. Perhaps he had met her before, but where, he didn't know. At this point, there wasn't much he did know. Apart from the fact this girl was dragging him somewhere. He found it difficult to understand how someone of such beauty could be comfortable being this close to him. Not that Po had a problem with Tigress' friendliness. It was just rare for a female to be this touchy with him. She didn't seem tentative about grabbing his hand before, but Po wasn't going to complain.
He welcomed the attention with open arms. The next thing Po knew, he found himself standing alongside Tigress, in some area where a dozen other people had congregated. "This is where people are signing up for the contest," Tigress said, gaining Po's attention. "We'll have to wait in line, but it shouldn't take too long." Despite having stopped running, that didn't stop Tigress from holding Po's hand. He was starting to think this girl was a little more than just a friend, given how content she was with holding his hand, but he didn't want to let his thoughts get carried away. There were several things going through his head, but his curiosity made him wonder what this contest was all about, and why Tigress seemed so assertive about him partaking in it.
While zoned out, letting these thoughts run wild in his head, he felt himself being pulled along, snapping his attention back to reality. By now, they had reached the front of the line, with Tigress leading him up to two gentlemen, looking in their early forties, who were sitting at a table. On the table, there was a pile of papers, some clipboards, and pens. "Hello! Welcome to the Seaside Pavilion Sing-Song Contest. My name is Archer Easton, and this is my co-producer, Kirk Millward. Are you both interested in joining?"
"My friend would like to audition for the contest, Mr Easton."
Mr Easton glanced between the couple, wondering whether the girl had misused the term 'friend' given they were holding hands. He didn't let this stray thought distract him from smiling, though. "Excellent! And what is your name, young man?"
"Ah…" Po glanced at Tigress, who held a soft smile, before shifting his eyes to Mr Easton. "I'm Po."
"Po?" Po nodded to Mr Easton, before Mr Easton looked at Tigress. "And what is your name, young lady?"
"Tigress."
"Well, it is a delight to have you both here, Po and Tigress, and a delight to have you join the contest, Po. Do you sing much?"
"Ah, a little bit."
Tigress huffed at Po's comment, gaining the attention of all three males. "Apologies, Mr Easton. He's always underselling himself. Po has an amazing voice, but has struggled to find opportunities. This is the opportunity he needs to put himself out there and be heard."
"Your friend is right," Mr Millward said, speaking for the first time. "You must seize every opportunity life presents you, because when those opportunities disappear, you never know when the next one will arise."
"Indeed," Mr Easton said, agreeing with his co-producer. "This is an opportunity for you to show the world what you are capable of doing. So, are you interested in joining, Po?"
It may not have seemed like much, but to Po, it was the support he needed to feel confident enough to give this contest a red-hot crack. "Alright… I'll sign up then."
"Excellent! That's what we like to hear." Mr Easton gathered a clipboard, a copy of the registration papers, and a pen before handing them to Po. "This is the application form you must complete to partake in this contest. It's not too complicated, but to summarise, signing the form declares your permission for us to record your performance, and to make you aware that other members of the public may record and post your performance on social media. The rest details how the contest will operate, and other fine print information we're legally obliged to document. Be aware that there is a fifty-dollar entry fee for this contest. If that is of no concern, have a read through the application form, and if you're happy to partake in this contest, complete the form on the last page and return it to us before nine PM. Do you have any questions?"
"Ah…"
"How will you determine the order of contestants, Mr Easton?" Tigress asked, while Po tried processing everything he had just been told.
"Excellent question. The order is determined by the order in which contestants sign up. So, for your friend, Po, if he were to enter the contest now, he would be the eleventh contestant. Given registrations are open for another half an hour, we may get a few more contestants signing up. However, there is nobody lined up behind you, so you may be the last to sign up. Anything else you'd like to know?"
Tigress glanced back at Po, making him glance at her, before looking at Mr Easton. "Can… are we allowed to perform any song?"
"Absolutely! That is explained in the form, but you can perform any song of your choice. It can even be an original if you write your own songs. Every year we hear a few originals. It's a fantastic way to showcase your own style of music, too. And, on top of that, the winner, in addition to receiving a prize of one-thousand dollars, will have their performance sent to Blackbird Studio."
Po's jaw dropped wide open hearing this. "Blackbird Studio? In Nashville?"
Mr Easton smiled. "Yep! That's the one. If you're lucky enough, they may even contact you about a potential record deal."
"WOW! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Po turned and grabbed Tigress by her shoulders, shaking her with excitement. "How crazy would-"
"Po, focus!"
"-that be, Tigress?"
"PO!"
"Blackbird Studio is just-"
Tigress swung both her arms around Po's arms, forcing him to lose his grip on her shoulders, allowing Tigress to grab both of Po's wrists and gain control of Po. "Settle down, Po! You need to stay focused!"
"Sorry! Sorry!" Tigress released Po's arms, reverting her attention back to Mr Millward and Mr Easton, who held subtle amused smiles, having witnessed the exchange in front of them. "It's just, you have no idea how awesome landing a recording contract with Blackbird Studios would be. Well, you probably do, but-"
"Po!" Tigress glanced at Po, making him quieten down from his enthusiastic ramblings, before looking back at the two gentlemen. "Apologies for disrupting you, Mr Easton. He loses his concentration when he becomes distracted."
"Hey! I do not!" Once again, Tigress glanced at Po, this time with a slight smirk, noticing the unamused expression on his face.
"No need to apologise," Mr Easton said, gaining the attention of Po and Tigress. "It's wonderful to see you know the legacy Blackbird Studio holds, Po. Now, we better give you enough time to read and sign the form. If you have any concerns, please do not hesitate to ask us, but if not, best of luck."
"Thank you," Po said, before he and Tigress walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Po attached the form to the clipboard and held it so both he and Tigress could read it. The application form was only two pages, with the first page detailing the terms and conditions of participating in the contest, while the second page was the actual application form where Po would need to fill in with his details. After reading through the application, Po offered it to Tigress. "Do you wanna have a read before I sign it? You know, to make sure everything seems legit and all?"
Tigress took the application from Po. Even though she had been reading it while sitting next to Po, having a closer inspection of the terms and conditions would allow her to identify anything worthy of raising with either Mr Millward or Mr Easton. However, despite her interrogative eyes examining the form, nothing seemed fraudulent or suspicious about how this contest would be operated. "Everything appears fine, Po," Tigress said, handing the form back to Po, so he could start filling it in with his details. "Have you thought about what you're going to sing? You need to specify in the form."
Po had begun filling in the form when the question caused him to stop writing and look at Tigress. "Ahh… no, I haven't. I dunno. Is there a song you'd like me to sing?"
"Why not a song of your own? Like Mr Easton said, show the world who you are."
Po rested his chin on his balled fist. "Yeah… maybe I should." Silence took over their conversation as Po stared into space, contemplating what song of his he should play. Not only just play, but show to the world. Nobody, apart from a few selected people, had heard his songs. He didn't know whether to play an upbeat song or a more meaningful song, but whatever song he chose had to touch the lives of those who would witness this song tonight. This was his chance to showcase his talents. There was no other option. He had to go all in and play his best song. With that in mind, Po looked at Tigress. "I know what to play." A subtle smile formed in the corner of his mouth. "But I'm gonna need my guitar." Writing as fast as he could, Po finished filling out the forming before standing up. "I'll hand this in, then go get my guitar before the contest starts."
Before Po could take a step, Tigress snatched the application from Po's hand, making him frown in confusion. "I'll hand in your application, Po." Tigress stood up, making herself eye-level with Po. "You get your guitar. Quick!"
- {Fifteen Minutes Later} -
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Mr Easton said, gathering the attention of everyone in the backstage area. "Welcome to the Seaside Pavilion's Annual Sing-Song Contest. My name is Archer Easton. I am the manager of this event, and will control everything that happens on stage tonight. This is my assistant manager, Kirk Millward. He will manage the backstage, so if you have any concerns, he is the man you should go to. It is an absolute pleasure to have you here tonight, partaking in this wonderful event. We have eleven amazing contestants here tonight, and if we can offer you any advice, every year somebody wins this contest. You decide if you want to be that person. Go out there and give it everything you've got because there's nothing to lose. But, most importantly, have fun. Let's get this party started. Best of luck, everyone!"
The next hour was a bit of a blue for Po as he waited in the backstage area with Tigress. Though they continued with their small talk about anything and everything, Po was just trying not to wet himself from nervousness. Knowing he was the last performer brought some mixed feelings. By going last, he could see what the other contestants were like; what kind of competition he was up against, but that only amplified his nervousness. There had been some incredible performances so far, which made him doubt whether he could match them, let alone surpass their performances. No matter how hard he tried to shut those thoughts away and calm himself down, his nerves were running at an all-time high.
The last time he was this stressed about anything was the day of his exams. Perhaps it was the magnitude of the situation he was facing that caused his stress to skyrocket. With his exams, they were extremely important, for passing them allowed him to complete his degree, thus open the door onto the next stage of his life. The same could be said about this contest. A door of opportunities awaited him. It wasn't the monetary prize that planted itself in the back of Po's mind. If he somehow won the contest, he knew who deserved that, and it wasn't him. To be honest, he couldn't have cared less about the thousand-dollar prize. That's not what he wanted. To have the chance of signing a recording contract with Blackbird Studio was the greatest prize on offer.
He has never wanted nothing more than that. This was the greatest opportunity he had to stick his foot in a door, and kick start a career he had dreamed about since his pre-teen days. He had to take this opportunity with both hands and give it his all. Whatever happened in the next half an hour could determine whether his dreams become reality or whether he goes back to the drawing boards. "You ready, Po?" Tigress asked, snapping Po from his internal thoughts, causing him to look at Tigress.
"Huh?"
"The tenth performer just finished. You're next."
"Oh." The realisation that he was next caused some nerves in his body to return. "Hopefully, I don't stuff up and make a fool of myself."
"You'll do fine." Tigress grabbed Po's hand before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on his right cheek, much to Po's surprise. "Just believe in yourself. Now, go show them how awesome you are."
"Mr Po?" someone called out, gaining Po's attention. It was Mr Millward, who stood by the opened backstage door. "The stage is all yours."
Po took a deep breath, looking back at Tigress. "Guess it's time to bring the awesomeness to this show." Tigress smiled in response, squeezing Po's hand, before letting go, allowing Po to make his way through the backstage area onto the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" the onstage speakers, voiced by Mr Millward backstage, blared out into the audience. "It is time for our last performance of the night. Please give this young man from east Tennessee a warm welcome. It's Po Ping!"
The next thing Po knew, there he stood, facing hundreds of strangers. His nerves were difficult to control backstage, but now they were almost impossible to control. This was, by far, the biggest crowd he had ever performed in front of in his entire life. That wasn't a terrible thing, but it wasn't helping his nerves. There had to be over a thousand people in the crowd; all of which were about to witness the beginning of something special. As the lights on the stage lowered, Po closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, regaining control of his nerves, before opening his eyes and positioned himself, ready to begin his song. With his guitar in hand, Po began playing the slow ballad intro to his song, playing the same chords twice before leading into the first line of the song…
!BEEP! !BEEP! !BEEP! !BEEP!
Po's eyes snapped open, startled by the sudden unexpected beeping noise, but soon gathered his senses, realising it was the alarm on his phone. He reached over and turned the alarm off, regretting doing so as the bright lights omitted from his phone burned his tired eyes. As a result, he squinted his eyes, giving them time to adjust to the brightness, allowing him to see the time displayed on the screen. It was four in the morning. A fatigued sigh expelled from Po's nostrils, placing his phone back on the side table before lying back down on his bed, closing his eyes. The second he closed his eyes, his brain flashed back to the dream. Po couldn't tell whether it was a dream or something more, but it felt so real. Yet, here he laid in his bed. Or so he assumed.
While Po tried racking his brain around the dream, his eyes snapped open again, realising the chords he had played in the dream were not from his songs. They weren't from any song that he knew. As far as he knew, his dream had made them up. He was disappointed his dream hadn't given him some lyrics to work with, but there was something about the sound of the intro that he liked. It had the potential to be turned into something, but Po would need to think of some lyrics. Something that told a story people could relate to. That was something he would need to think about, but making note of these chords was the first step. Once he knew what the chords were, he could incorporate some lyrics into the song.
Even though his dream had given him little to work with, sometimes the smallest ideas can turn into the biggest hits. Sometimes they don't, but every song starts from nothing. Po became so engrossed in the memory of his dream, he didn't realise he had closed his eyes until he jerked awake, startled by a falling sensation. Now he was wide awake, and sore, after the involuntary twitch caused him to twist his back in an awkward position. Remembering why he had woken up at four in the morning, Po turned on his bedside light, mainly to ensure he didn't fall asleep again. After stretching out his arms, then placing them behind his kidneys to stretch his back, he stood up and grabbed his music notebook before making his way to the kitchen.
Before he could function, his body needed its daily morning dose of caffeine. That being in the form of coffee. The only problem was the coffee machine in the kitchen made some noise. Okay, it made a lot of noise. You think the crinkling of a chip packet at some ridiculous time of night is bad? This coffee machine was ten times worse. Why their coffee machine made so much noise was something Po couldn't answer, but the coffee it produced nullified the noisy hassle that was required. It was only a nuisance when Po was awake before his father, which was rare, but when it occurred, it was one of those situations where he needed a coffee, but knew he would wake up his father.
He thought about using the coffee machine in the restaurant, which was adjoined to their house, to avoid disturbing his father, but decided against it. Given he planned to leave at five, in fifty minutes, there wasn't enough time to open the restaurant, start and pre-clean the coffee machine, prepare the coffee, clean and turn off the machine, and lock the restaurant again. Then, in addition to that, he needed time to pack his car. The only thing Po could do, which he does every time he uses the coffee machine in the kitchen, was to close the hallway door and hope it would muffle some of the noise, thus not wake up his father at this hour.
As Po shuffled around the kitchen, preparing the coffee machine, his mind drifted back to the dream. There were several things about the dream that were difficult for Po to comprehend. One, he couldn't understand how the dream had selected Myrtle Beach, a place he had never seen in real life as the setting. Sure, he had seen countless photos and videos of it, and it had been on the back of his mind for several months, but it felt so real. Like the dream was derived from a memory, not a fantasy. The second thing Po struggled to understand was the girl who was involved in his dream. He had never known anyone named Tigress, that he could remember, but there was something about her which reminded him of someone, but he couldn't figure out who.
Those two things aside, what leeched itself upon Po's mind the most was the contest. The fact his dream had made up this song, well, it at least gave Po a sample of the intro, burned in the back of his mind. He had to make notes of the chords he played before they became a distant memory. It's not every day you dream of a song which gives you the feeling of being something with exciting potential. While the coffee machine prepared his coffee, Po opened his notebook to a new page, and stared at the blank page, trying to figure out how to go about this. What troubled Po about the dream was he never glanced down at the guitar. That meant he never got a visual cue of the chords he played.
Whenever he plays the guitar, he rarely looks down, but when he's creating new songs, he does it more often than songs he has mastered. However, without that visualisation of the chords he played, he has to guess the chords. He may have mastered the guitar many years ago, but it is almost impossible to guess the chords without sitting down and tinkering with his guitar. Obviously, at four-twenty in the morning, that was something he couldn't do, unless he wanted to interrupt his father's sleep, which, of course, he didn't wish to do. In saying that, the more the intro kept playing over and over in his head, the more confident Po became in figuring them out. He knew what it should sound like. His next assignment was to figure out how to get the sound playing through his head on paper.
Once he had the right chords, then he could shift his focus to incorporating some lyrics to match the music. That'll take time, but when these seedlings are nurtured in the right way, the finished product will feel a whole lot more rewarding. However, to finish a project, one must start it, and that was something Po was struggling to do. The songs Po has created ever since he started writing songs have either been derived from a random thought or while he was playing with his guitar. Because of that, when a song came to mind, he could write it down, whether it was musical notes or lyrics, as it happened in his conscious state. This was different. He dreamt it, not lived it.
What he knows is the intro appeared to have used the same chords twice, but during the intro, he picked at the strings rather than used a strumming pattern. When you're using a strumming pattern while playing the guitar, you're striking multiple strings with the one motion to create a generic chord note. Whereas, picking at the strings isolates each note, allowing you to create an acute sound. Now, Po can identify any note that's played with a strumming pattern, but when notes are being picked, that makes it far tougher to pinpoint the correct chord and string played. Something made him feel like the chords he played were the A-chord, E-chord, and B-chord, but he wouldn't be certain without fiddling with his guitar.
DING!
The noise from the coffee machine caused Po to look up, seeing his coffee was ready. He'll have to look at these chords later when he can practice with his guitar. Po went over and grabbed his coffee, bringing it over and placing it down on the kitchen bench before going to the pantry to get the chocolate dustings. He always enjoys adding a small sprinkle of chocolate powder on top of his coffee. Its sweetness stops him from needing sugar. Whether it is healthier than adding sugar is an argument we won't cross today. After adding the chocolate powder on top of his coffee, Po took a sip and released a muted, but satisfied sigh, feeling the hot coffee warm the inside of his body. Now that he had made his coffee, Po grabbed a damp cloth and began cleaning it, ready for his father to use whenever he woke up.
"Thought I heard some noise coming from the kitchen."
"DAD!" Po looked to his right, surprised to see his father awake this early. "What are you doing up? Did the coffee machine wake you up? I tried muffling out the noise by closing the door."
"Oh no. I had my alarm set for four-fifteen."
"What? Why?"
"You think I wasn't going to wish my son the best on his trip?"
"Oh… um, do you wanna coffee, Dad? I was gonna clean the coffee machine, but won't if you want one."
"That'd be lovely, thanks, Po. Just the usual." While Po prepared his father's flat white, Mr Ping walked over to the kitchen bench and noticed Po's musical notebook was wide open on a blank page. "What are you doing with this, son?"
"Hmm?" Po peered over his shoulder, seeing his father looking at his notebook. "Oh… I had this crazy dream where I somehow played this song I've never written before, so I was writing it down."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah… it was kinda weird, actually. I've never dreamt of a new song before."
Mr Ping examined Po's notebook, noticing there was hardly anything written on the open page. "There's not much written here, Po. You should write down what you remember before you forget it. These ideas are all worth exploring."
"I know. I'm trying, but that's the problem."
"You don't remember it?"
"No, I remember what it sounded like. It's just… it's difficult to explain." Po brought his father's coffee over to him before returning to the coffee machine to clean it. "Like, in the dream, I only played the intro without singing anything. And because I picked at the strings without looking at them, instead of doing some strumming pattern, that makes it so much harder to figure out the exact chords I played."
"Hmm… well, I'm sure you'll figure it all out, son. If you feel that this has potential, nurture it as best you can so it develops into the song you want." While Mr Ping was saying this, Po finished cleaning the coffee machine before walking over to the kitchen bench to finish his coffee with his father. If you're wondering, Po made himself a cappuccino.
"Yeah, I know. It'll be easier to tinker with my guitar to get the right chords. I've only written what I think the chords were… which is better than nothing, I suppose."
"I thought you weren't taking your guitar with you? Did you change your mind?"
Po couldn't help but smile at his father's question. "Ah yeah… I decided last night it couldn't hurt to bring along."
"I knew you'd change your mind. Are you all packed and ready to go?"
"Nah, I still gotta pack the car." Po took his phone out of his pocket and pressed the home button, lightening up the screen. His eyes went wide, seeing it was four-forty-four. "Jeepers! I better get packed! Gotta leave in fifteen minutes. You finished with your coffee, Dad?"
"I'll wash the mugs, Po. You better get yourself ready."
"Thanks, Dad!" Po handed his cup to his father, before scrambling back to his bedroom, grabbing his car keys and two luggage bags. On his second trip, he grabbed his boogieboard and guitar, carefully placing his beloved guitar on the floor behind the front seats to ensure it wouldn't move around and become squashed or damaged during the drive. For the last time, Po went back into his room, quintuple checking he had packed everything he needed.
"Have you got everything, son?" his father asked for the millionth time as they proceeded to leave the house.
"Yes, Dad."
"Are you taking enough clothes?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Warm clothes?"
"Yes, Dad. I packed a jumper and a few pairs of jeans."
"Swimmers?"
"Yep."
"You got all your toiletry stuff?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Toothpaste?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Toothbrush?"
"Yep… all in the one bag."
"Soap and shampoo?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Deodorant?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Towel?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Got your wallet, ID, and phone?"
Po tapped on both his pockets. Phone in his left pocket. Wallet, with his ID inside, in his right pocket. "Yep. Got em all."
"Got your car keys?"
"In my right pocket, too."
"You have cash on you? Some places don't accept card."
"Yep, got some cash in my wallet."
"Did you pack your guitar?"
"Of course. Couldn't forget that."
"What about some-"
"Dad… I've got everything."
The father and son now stood outside, next to Po's car, as dawn quickly approached their town. "I know. I'm just making sure you haven't forgotten anything."
"If I forget something, I can just buy it when I get to Myrtle Beach. Don't think I've forgotten anything, though."
"What about fuel? You got a full tank?"
"I'll fill up before leaving town." Po looked down at his watch, making him widen his eyes. "Jeepers! It's nearly five o'clock. I better get going, Dad."
"Okay, son." Mr Ping hugged Po. "Have a safe drive and remember to keep me informed on how your travels are going whenever you stop."
"Yeah, will do, Dad." For the record, Po planned to stop at Covington for breakfast and Oak Grove for lunch, before making the final segment to Myrtle Beach. Based on his plan, he should arrive at Myrtle Beach sometime between four-and-five o'clock in the evening. They separated from the hug as Po hopped in and started his car, winding down the window to his father. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks."
"Take care, son! And most importantly, have fun."
"I sure will, Dad. Can't wait to get there."
"No doubt you're keen to get there, but don't rush, Po. It won't be going anywhere."
"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'll take my time. Alright, I better get going. See you in a few weeks, Dad!"
"Bye, son!"
And with that, Po reversed his Land Cruiser out of the driveway and begun his long, awaited journey to Myrtle Beach as the first signs of light appeared behind the eastern mountains. This is where his journey begins. A journey that will change Po's life forever. It's the trip of a lifetime, and one he'll never forget.
[End Notes]
That concludes the end of this chapter. What did you think? Are you excited for what's to come? Lemme know in the reviews (or PM me if you want).
As I mentioned in the foot notes of the previous chapter, there is no schedule for when chapters will be released, but will push myself to get these chapters out asap. I'd like to finish this story before the end of the decade. Now... in continuation with the game (if anyone actually wants to play), there were five Kenny Chesney songs referenced throughout this chapter. Can you spot them all? I'll actually be quite amazed if anyone spots them all, given some of them are quite hidden, and lesser known songs of his.
Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. Hope you're excited for what's to come.
Until next time, take care and stay safe!
Footrot Flats :)