A Bird of My Tongue is Better Than a Beast of Yours

Submitted into Contest #50 in response to: Write a story about a person experiencing pre-performance jitters.... view prompt

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Kelly felt the panic rising in her chest. She leaned again the wall and tried to push it down, push it out of her head. She was not going to have a panic attack where everyone would be able to see it and make fun of her. She refused to let it happen or have it be a consideration. She refused that she was going to have something like this defeat her. She thought about the fear Beatrice felt for Benedick in the first scene, that she hid behind jabs and casual talk. She tried to force all her fear into that spot.

She felt her breath quicken and footsteps approaching her corner. She fled out the backdoor, the alarm going off that someone had left out the emergency exit. She heard the distant yells of someone telling someone to alert the school or the authorities - or whoever one contacted in these situations - that there wasn't a problem.

She leaned against the brick wall of the school, feeling the rough red brick dig into her back. It was sore, but it was grounding. In the moment, that's what she needed. It was her first main role and she was terrified she was going to mess something up. She couldn't remember half her blocking; she thought she'd forgotten where she had placed her costume for the quick change; she hadn't wanted her family to come to opening night and yet they had texted her and told her where they were in the audience.

"They made their own choice, you couldn't have stopped them," Kelly muttered.

She knew she was getting the back of her costume dirty, but she couldn't be worried about that. She wanted to get through this. That's all. She wanted her family to leave. She loved them but sometimes they were overpowering and they made decisions like tonight that were right for them and wrong for her.

She gripped the handle and pulled it open. Thankfully there was no one in the stage left wing. She was able to stand there for several moments, looking at the set from the wing, and breathing.

"What was that? Are you okay?" It was Steph, the person Kelly probably should've gone to instead of fleeing, but she couldn't be bothered by it. She had already fled and she was back, even though she still felt a little shaky and fuzzy.

"I will be."

"Do you want me to do anything for you?"

"No, I'm going to be fine."

"Are you sure? You don't look it."

"Yes, thanks."

Kelly could feel Steph staring at her. She knew Steph was trying to figure out if she was lying or not. That was the problem with panicking. People never knew when to stop looking at you, waiting for you to throw up or run away again. Steph might know her well, but she didn't know the story about what had happened the first time Kelly had stood on a stage, and she had no intention of telling Steph what had happened before their performance.

"Then how about we go do this."

Kelly nodded and allowed Steph to pull to her feet. Steph spun her around and brushed at her hair and the back of her costume. Steph fiddled with the bun their costume designer had twisted Kelly's dark hair into.

"She's a horse rider," said Steph, as she pulled a few hairs from the hair style. "Her hair wouldn't be perfect. It would always have a ruffled look to it."

Kelly smiled. She agreed with Steph, but she'd felt too nervous when the costume designer had been doing it to say a word. This is how she would have done it, had she had the opportunity, but the costume designer had particular ideas for how hair should look. Now though, with Steph loosening the style, she felt much more like the Beatrice she wanted to portray.

"You look good," said Steph, standing back and giving her an appraising look. "You look how I imagined it."

"I guess I didn't feel comfortable with it the other way."

Steph nodded. "I could tell. I could've guess what was wrong and I should've said something."

Kelly stopped Steph from moving away. "You couldn't have known all the things going through my head. You don't get to blame yourself for something that was my fault, that I did."

She talked right through the 'places' call. Kelly didn't care. It was important Steph heard this, that she knew it wasn't her fault, that she couldn't have done anything. Kelly hadn't spoken about it. She looked at Steph, who nodded and pushed her to where she would make her entrance.

Standing there, next to Steph, waiting for their Leonato to walk out onto the stage and start talking, taking center stage, like it was his villa in the countryside of Italy. Steph glanced at Kelly nodded and Kelly felt everything Steph felt for her and the relationship they had built between Hero and Beatrice.

As she walked out on stage, she felt the panic melt away. She felt herself focusing in on her lines and blocking. Everything she had forgotten in the midst of her panic flowed back in and she felt brave and grateful and powerful. She could feel Steph watching her instead of 'Leonato' the way the blocking like she should. Kelly had spent enough time with Steph's script that she knew Steph's blocking almost as well as her own, but it was also comforting in a way to be able to look across and see her.

Kelly felt the prickles of panic as she got closer to speaking her first major section, but she breathed and she remembered Steph and when she saw her Benedick entering, it was another wash of relief and she knew she had fought back from something that could have floored her. She knew after the show she was going to be exhausted from the performance and the panic, but it was worth it because of the rush it gave her after the panic had subsided.

*The title is one of Beatrice's lines in William Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing and can be found at I.1.126

July 17, 2020 19:40

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