Mainstreaming | JOE GOLDBERG

1 7 | L O N E L Y H E A R T

I feel my face sink into a frown. You were bullied? Why?

There's so much I want to ask you and your friend, but Mark returns quickly and you- you start to sing. Your lips quiver as anxiety riddles your body. And though you've layered your face in perfect makeup, I can see hints of blush poking around your cheeks.

I wait, holding onto Evan's promise that you're skilled at this art.

And there you go.

You open your mouth and drive away the darkness in the room with a sorrowful glow. A glimmer of light.

Smoke, velvet, and sweetness bellow out of you. They escape your lips like you've known the words your whole life.

I'm memorized. You've seduced me once again, gliding across the stage with ease. Rising the mike to enchant the audience, and then dropping it by your side to let Peter have his turn.

You dance around each other, though your voice triumphs over his. Soaring and diving. Dipping in and out of emotion.

God, you're beautiful.

"What did I tell you?" Evan blows air through her nose as she leans her chin into the palm of her hand. "A real treat."

All I can do is stare at your friend. Mark stands to his feet, joining the crowd in cheering. You curtsy like a lady and hobble off the stage, Peter on your heels.

Everyone makes busy showering you in compliments, and I'm too embarrassed to say anything. I feel stupid. How could I not know you were so gifted in this way?   

"You guys are too sweet!" Your eyes water. "I was so nervous!"

"Come on, you were great!" Peter has his arms around Sarah, but he can't stop staring at you. "Let me buy you a drink. You've earned it."

You scratch the side of your hair and lean into me. 

"I'll get it." My voice teeters on the edge of a growl. 

Peter nods. "Well, great. I, uh, better get going. We're on at eight. See you there."

He takes my hint and leaves.

Giving me an hour of space, God I need that.

"Evan, let's dance!" 

Wait, where are you going? You grab Evan by the hands and race up the stairs. Mark laughs, mentioning something about being a third wheel and elicits to stay downstairs with his groupies. 

This is worse than the Peach/Beck dynamic. I can't handle losing you. Not again.

I find the two of you in the middle of the dance floor in Purgatory. You grab me and start dancing. Awful, awkward, horrible dancing. But you're not stupid, you know you're terrible and that makes it fun for you, I think.

Evan, on the other hand, is very skill and has full control of her body. She sways and sings, using her hips to lure an audience. You make yourself useful, bringing out smiles and memories for her to enjoy. I realize you're working hard to lift her spirits, but I'm still jealous.

I feel invisible.

And when I'm on the brink of giving up, you turn to me and lift your voice over the music, "This is a great song! I think you'll like it!"

The guitar rift isn't impressive, but then the strings start and I'm captivated. Drums pound away. Bass slips in. A certain darkness underlines everything. You're screaming the lyrics, and it's only when I hear them coming out of your mouth I realize what's happening.