I stood on the stage in the empty auditorium.
Or rather, almost empty.
Peter occupied a seat about ten rows back, right on the center aisle. He looked excited.
I took a deep breath, holding the microphone in both hands. It wasn’t turned on. Didn’t want to bother whoever else was still in the school at this hour. Being a science and tech school, our drama department was pathetic. The stage and the auditorium were reserved almost exclusively for assemblies. I didn’t have anything to worry about right now. It was probably just the janitorial staff.
But I didn’t need a microphone. Once I wasn’t nervous. I could sing loud enough to be heard in every corner of the room.
Closing my eyes, I tried not to bake under the stage lights, and hit the play button on my speakers.
The opening of the minus track I was singing along with started to play.
Peter whooped supportively.
I smiled and blushed. Of course he was supportive. He was a good kid—and one of the only friends I had. Michelle and Ned, his good friends, were kind of my friends by proxy; but he was really pretty much it for me.
“I’m so tired of being here…” I sang, beginning slow and soft. “Suppressed by all my childish fears… And if you have to leave—I wish that you would just leave! Your presence still lingers here—and it won’t leave me alone!” I took a breath. “These wounds won’t seem to heal… this pain is just too real… there’s just too much that time cannot erase!” I finally opened my eyes, looking out into the vacant seats. Only one of them with a person in it. I tried not to look at Peter. If I did, I’d lose my nerve.
But I snuck a quick peek. He was grinning like a proud parent—weird since he was only a couple months older than me.
“When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears! When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears! And I held your hand through all of these years—but you still have… all of me…”
I looked down at the microphone. My voice still shook. I sounded like a scared kid.
I paused the minus track and shook my head, plopping down on the stage.
Peter appeared at my side in an instant. “What’s wrong? You were doing so well!” he protested.
I sighed. “There’s no way I’m ever going to perform in front of the school. I’m already an outsider and I just… I don’t have the emotion for it. Even if I pulled everything off without a hitch… it’s not like I’m going to suddenly not be a freak to everyone else. They won’t accept me. Heck, the bullying will probably be even worse because no one sings here. That’s not the point of this school. We’re here for science and technology. Not the dramatic arts.”
“Then let’s pick a different song. One that you’ll feel comfortable singing and forget about anyone else in the room.”
“Like what?” I complained.
“What do you sing in front of the mirror with a hairbrush microphone when no one else is home?” he asked.
“I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll—Joan Jett,” I replied.
“Got a minus track for that?”
“No… but I can find one on my phone.”
“Do it. Try it.”
“Pete… why am I even doing this?”
“Because Principal Morita needs something to fill a slot in the assembly and literally no one else wants to fill the space,” he answered.
“Oh right. How could I forget?” I muttered.
“C’mon. You’ll do fine.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Hop up. I’ll stay on the stage this time and run your music. You don’t even have to look at me. Just close your eyes. Anyone past the fourth row isn’t going to be able to tell if they’re opened or closed so it doesn’t matter. Imagine you’re just in front of your mirror with your hairbrush and no one else is home, okay? Just try it.”
I squared my shoulders. “Okay. Let’s try it.”
He pulled up a karaoke track for I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll and played it.
I gripped the microphone. “I saw him dancin’ there by the record machine… I knew he must have been about seventeen… beat was going strong, playin’ my favorite song… and I could tell it wouldn’t be long… till he was with me—yeah me!—and I could tell it wouldn’t be long till he was with me—yeah me!—singin’ I LOVE ROCK ‘N’ ROLL! So put another dime in the jukebox baby!”
I finished the song even when my voice faltered, even when I messed up how many times I repeated the chorus and ended up undershooting and then overshooting.
But I pretended Peter wasn’t there and I wasn’t standing on an otherwise empty stage in an otherwise empty auditorium. I did as he suggested and acted like I was at home, in front of the full-length mirror hanging off my closet door, and just let myself sing my heart out.
Why not? Peter had heard me sing before. He knew I was okay, but really not that good.
Cheers and quiet whoops filled my ears as everyone recognized the song—many of the kids even sang along with the chorus. The music was loud but the microphone was on so my voice wasn’t drowned out.
After the second verse I got up the courage to open my eyes and look out.
Instantly my gaze found Peter—and we locked eyes. I calmed my nerves enough just looking at him that my voice stopped shaking.
The student body clapped to the beat. Some were dancing in their seats, and some had stood up. None of that mattered because Peter was smiling at me, clapping along, and silently reassuring me that everything was fine. I had nothing and no reason to fear. Everyone was enjoying the song and maybe I wouldn’t get made fun of for it. For singing alone on stage in front of literally the whole school.
“I Love Rock ‘N’ Roll—so put another dime in the jukebox baby! I love rock ‘n’ roll—so come on take your time and dance with me!”
It was empowering, listening to everyone sing along.
When the song ended, I got a standing ovation—mostly because some of the kids were already on their feet from dancing around and Peter leapt to his feet to clap wildly. Whistling and applause met my ears. I turned bright red, probably, as I bowed to each of the four sections and ran off the stage.
I handed the microphone to one of the student body officers, grabbed my phone from where it was plugged into the audio system, and snuck back into the auditorium.
I collapsed into the empty seat next to Peter.
He threw his arms around me. “That was amazing! You did great!” he whispered as Principal Morita continued talking about school spirit or something. “Wait a minute—you’re shaking. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied breathlessly. “I just don’t handle performing in front of crowds well. Not when I’m alone. Give my body ten minutes to get over the nerves and I’ll stop.”
Ned leaned forward on Peter’s other side and patted my knee. “Great job!” he hissed.
“Thanks!”
