Your head rested on your arms. The contrast between the rough mesh of your gloves and the warmth of your soft skin was comforting. You couldn't help but almost fall asleep. Your eyes were closed. A nanosecond from sleeping.
The bell went off. Please no... Just five more minutes. You weren't ready to make a fool of yourself. Your heart raced.
You stood in front of the entire high school. Seeing the pervious acts made you sure that if you didn't squeak or lose your voice you should be okay. Your friends were sitting in the middle of the bleechers in the gym. You asked them to so you could focus on them while making it seem like you were focusing on everyone else.
The music began. You clutched the microphone with one hand and held your elbow with the other. As you waited for the into to end and the singing part to begin you looked at everyone else. Noticing everyone was staring at you.
Desere, with her fake silverish-blue hair, was staring at you. Her eyes pierced through your confidence.
But then you noticed your friends. They were staring at you to. It wasn't a scowl like Deseree. They were all encouraging you. They all wanted you to win that gift certificate. They wanted you to share it with them. Those kind, selfish bastards. Well, you weren't going to let them down.
You took deep breaths before starting. You couldn't back out now.
You sang a song your mom would sing you before bed. You never really knew why.But when you woke up in the middle of the night you could still hear the song. It wasn't your mother's voice. It sounded even more youthful, yet it also had more sorrow.
You sang it as you remembered it. The words held out. The high, but not to high, pitch.
rain clouds come to play again,
has no one told you she's not breathing?
hello i'm your mind giving you someone to talk to
hello--"
You didn't even have to think about it. You refused to join choir. They sang such lame songs. "No thanks."
The sophomore talent show ended and you won. Fifty bucks to Best Buy. Kick ass!
You got in the limo waiting for you thirty minutes after school ended. You didn't like that people knew what your family was like. So they owned a very successful company? No reason to freak out.
"Ms. McAllister? Do you want to change before the audition?" Derryks asked. Derryks was your limo driver. Well, the family's. But your parents worked at home and didn't really need to go out much. The limo was pretty much yours.
"Sure. I don't care." You really didn't. You just wanted it to be over with. You didn't like singing really. Well, you did. Just not if front of people. You didn't know what scared you most. The fact that they may not like your singing. Or that they may like your voice and harrass you to sing for a record lable.
You were going to start in five minutes. A long, strapless, black dress flowed from your chest. A black rose vine necklace went half way down to meet the dress. Your hair pulled into a bun, with it still flowing from it.
As you thought of the song. Remembering it's lyrics you realized. You contridicted yourself. When you dressed "hardcore" you sang soft, sorrowful songs. When you dressed delicately you would sing loud, infuriated music.
Today was no exception. It was a song off one of your mom's C.D.s. By a band called Garbage. You'd scream it loud and with enough fury to take down the wall of China when you got in a fight with Todd.
You held the microphone in your right hand; your fingers were wrapped tightly around it, as if you might drop it. Your left hand held the cord that fell from the microphone.
You lowered your head. You wanted to surprise them. You wanted to make them think you were just an innocent little girl who wanted to be a singer when she grew up. You were no little girl. As the into started you lifted your head to meet the awaiting eyes of your audience. Your eye brows leaned in to show anger and you kicked off your shoes so you could give the people waiting the proper performance.
You practiced it before you came on. You didn't want to get sued for hitting someone with a shoe. That's just stupid. The shoes flew right above a person in the back hitting the wall behind them.
Your voice started soft, singing the lines,
"I'm no barbie doll,
I'm not your baby girl,
I've done ugly things and I have made mistakes,
And I am not as pretty as those girls in magazines,
I am rotten to my core if they're to be believed,
So what if I'm no baby bird hanging upon your every word?
Nothing ever smells of roses that rises out of mud."
It was soft. But you didn't need to understand the lyrics to know it really wasn't as innocent as it appeared.
With a louder, harder voice you jumped in the air while singing the chorus.
Why do you love me!?
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy!
Why do you love me!?
Why do you love me!?
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy!
Why do you love me!?
Why do you love me!?
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy!
Why do you love me!?
Why do you love me--"
Everyone clapped. Everyone. Even the guy who you almost died by shoe assault clapped for you.
You didn't stay after. You were so out of energy you didn't know how much longer you could stand.
Future parts probably won't have musical references (maybe one or two).
Rate and message. I finished the character profiles... and I added a chat box where you can add messages. Please rate. I'll write more frequently if I can get more people to rate, and rate high. If you want you can AIM me. Behindyourback72 is my screen name.
