Overrated | The Voice France / MIKA & OC

3.1 - Knockouts. Song

Accidentally make your biggest dream come true - check.

So, yeah. I'm in Team Mika. I'm going to meet him every week, and he's going to teach me to sing. I still can't believe it. Life can't be that good.
And of course, my mind decided to fix this and threw me a problem, so things won't seem perfect:
Now that I'm in Team Mika, I will have to work twice as hard to impress my coach, and if I fail, the price for it won't be just elimination - it will be overwhelming, crashing frustration that will tie me up to the thought of being a loser forever. I'm darn serious now. It's the worst you can wish to your enemy - let down the one you respect and admire the most.
So, yeah, these are my thoughts at the moment. They're not healthy, I'm aware of it, but subconscious is very hard to fight, unfortunately. And yes, I'm overcomplicating things again. I have to do something about it, I know, but..

- Hey! - a voice from behind interrupts my self-digging. I quickly put off headphones, sit straight and look over back of the couch.

I'm in one of the shooting scenes, used for coaching. The door was opened, so I just walked in and had been lying peacefully on the couch, picking a song for the Knockouts and imagining myself as a judge at the X Factor, until this 25-something tall guy walked in.

- You're not supposed to be here, mademoiselle, - the guy says, crossing arms on his chest. I climb down on the floor and adjust my shirt.

- I'm sorry. I was told that we can go wherever the door is opened.

- Ah, you're from The Voice, - he nods, - Beatrice, am I right?

- It's Alice, actually.

- Team Mika, exactly. My bad. These studios are being prepared for Live shows, so no visitors, ok?

- As you say, - I walk to the door. This guy is quite young. I wonder who is he.

- Are you an intern? - I ask. He laughs.

- I'm a producer. My name is Luck Castel.

His name sounds familiar. Right, Emily told me about him yesterday.

- Wait, you're the new creative producer of live shows on The Voice?

- Yes, I am. New stage - new producers, y'know. Make sure you win the Knockouts, 'cause this year's shows will be epic!

He locks the door. Before he leaves, he turns around and points behind my back:

- There's an opened room there. It has a grand piano.

- Thanks! - I shout after him.

I follow his words and find a room which looks like Team Mika's coaching room from the previous season. I sit by the piano. Where was I interrupted?

Oh yeah. I was auditioning Elton John with Your Song.

It seems like the deeper I am in this TV madness, the more pressure I feel. At this point I would already have some fans and I can't disappoint them. I have to be very good, better than before. And what's worse - now it's Mika who counts on me, you know? I have to pick something special to impress him.

So I decide that Elton is too trivial, besides it's a little bit too high for me.

So, what will be my song?

I look at the keyboard.

I wish I could just take my phone and pick a random piece. No, I have to pretend to be an expert or I will disappoint my coach. You might guess, with every minute of these searches I feel a little more stupid...

...A little more scared...

Wait a second...

...Every minute more unprepared...

This song, I almost forgot about it.

It's called Slow Show. I discovered it several years ago, between my usual Mika crushes, and I was in love with it. I loved the lyrics, for they were simple yet so powerful they made me cry the first time I heard it. At that time, on the peak of my social anxiety, I could relate to almost every line of it.

I play the chords and start murmuring to myself, more loud and confident with every line.

This song is, like, perfect for me right now! It's simple, touching, by a talented yet not very popular band (seems to match Mika's tastes), and what's most important, I feel good singing it. So, by the time I play the last chords, I know this is the song.

I sit in silence for several seconds, enjoying satisfaction, then I hear a sigh.

- Who's there? - I ask, and see a hand waving from the back of the couch.

- Me.