by Emma Halley

Created on: October 07, 2010

The first few bars of the song fill the auditorium, and a lull falls over the audience. They stop and stare, eager with anticipation of her next move as she stands centre stage, bathed in the white glow of the spotlight. The tension builds almost to a crescendo, and every person in the room visibly inhales.

She opens her mouth to sing. This is her moment. This is the first day of the rest of her life. She ignores the fact that she can no longer feel her legs, that her stomach in twisted into a knot so tight she’s not sure she’ll be able to eat for a week. She concentrates on the headlines in tomorrow’s press “The Next Big Thing” and “Show’s New Girl Wows Crowds” 

But wait, what’s going on? The crowd are shifting uncomfortably in their seats, mumbling and looking confused. The music has trailed off and she is vividly aware that there is a distinct silence. It takes only a second to realise that the silence is emanating from herself.  She is standing in the centre of the stage, in front of some fifteen hundred people. She is supposed to be belting out the first verse and chorus of the song that will make her a star. What’s happening? Somewhere between her knotted stomach and her blood-red lipstick the song is strangled, refusing to budge from its terrified corner somewhere inside her. 

The music starts again. She takes a sharp breath and tries to force the words, pushing any sound she can find from deep within her. What is the first word? Damnit, she can’t remember the lyrics, now what? God no. Please not here. Please not now. This was supposed to be her big break, her chance to step out from her role as understudy and prove to the world that she was worthy of their applause. As the music fades yet again into background, she is aware of another sound rising up from the crowd. Little chuckles. Little giggles of embarrassing amusement start to bubble up from the muted mumblings. Red hot humiliation stings her cheeks and the knot in her stomach doubles in size. 

As the seconds tick by she is aware of something happening in the wings. Oh no. The stage manager and nearly half the cast, it seems, are waving frantically, some telling her to get off the stage, some telling her she can do it.  She feels her legs dissolve beneath her. The light around the edge of the vast auditorium is fading from her view.

In a moment of misguided clarity she feels her legs begin to move. With no conscious control over her actions, she turns on her heel and slams past the gathering group of cast members. They call her name in shouted whispers and look to one another in shock. In the frenzy of her escape she pays little regard to the cheer that goes up from the crowd as she disappears into the wings.  Past the stage crew, through the dressing room, down the corridor, out of the emergency exit and into the side street.

The cold night hits her like a brick wall as her lungs suddenly begin to work. Sucking in the cool damp air as if they have been starved. She presses her hands on her knees and feels hot, wet tears run down her flushed cheeks. 

In the bustling, noisy, city street the group of theatre-goers, night-clubbers, socialites and tourists go about their business. No one notices the petite blonde, in what looks like a costume from one of the local shows. She steps out from behind one of the theatres, her pretty face soaked with tears, and disappears into the crowd.

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