Aurie's Last Night

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Aurie’s fingerless gloves exposed bright red, completely numb digits that could barely hold the speaker box she had just unloaded from the beat-up van. Her bandmates weren’t quite as affected by the piercing cold wind blowing in from the harbor. Of course, it didn’t help that Aurie’s stomach was empty. She’d been rationing her limited food supply for over a week, waiting desperately for tonight’s gig (and subsequent payout) so she could replenish her nonexistent pantry. A full belly would have warmed her insides as she hauled the last piece of sound equipment through the backstage door of the club.

The success of tonight’s New Year’s Eve show would determine Aurie’s future as a musician. For months she’d scraped by on meager tips, free beer, and the occasional complimentary dinner provided by the house. But a few days before Christmas, she had been offered a steady job managing a local real estate office in her hometown. If she accepted it, she wouldn’t have to worry about where to find her next meal or where to lay her head at night. But she wouldn’t have much time for her music. She had to decide what she hungered for more, her dream to be a star or a piping hot plate of roasted chicken and creamy whipped potatoes. In the past, it had always been about her music. Tonight, however, she wasn’t so sure.

Her reflection in the backstage mirror taunted her as she applied concealer to cover the dark circles cradling her eyes. The realization that tonight would likely be her last show weighed heavily on her heart as she tried to prepare herself. She hated the idea of abandoning her dream. A lifetime of hard work and dedication had brought her here as the headliner at a well-loved club on the biggest night of entertainment all year. If she gave up now, all her hard work was for nothing. 

Ethan, the bass guitarist, knocked gently on the door and let himself in. He drew his hand through his long, dark mess of unruly hair. His heavy boots clomped as he lumbered across the room and sat beside his lead singer.

Ethan’s eyes avoided hers, which told Aurie there was something wrong. “What is it?” Her impatience kept her from allowing her bandmate, a man of very few words, time to figure out how to say whatever he’d come to tell her.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Liquid Lava, the big club down the street, got a last-minute spot on network television. People are lined up down the block to get in.”

“And here?” she asked.

Ethan dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head. The two were close, and he knew how meaningful tonight’s show was to Aurie’s future. 

With a sigh and a broken smile, she said, “We’d better show ‘em what they’re missing then.” Even though she tried to radiate positive energy, disappointment spread through her ravenous insides like a blanket of January frost.

Ethan squeezed her hand and offered a quick nod of compassion before he left the room.

Gazing back into the mirror, Aurie no longer recognized herself. She saw an office manager staring back at her. The last few remaining rockstar qualities she possessed faded with each passing second.

About an hour later, Aurie and her band entertained a sparse crowd from a small stage. Despite the hunger, exhaustion, and deflated dreams tugging at her gut, she did her utmost to put on the best show she could manage. Focused instead on the people who’d paid money to hear her sing, she emptied herself on that stage for her fans. Her only hope was to spark emotions of anger or peace, angst or loss among anyone who heard her music.

The opening bars of one of her final songs of the night rang out over the crowd, and without warning, something astonishing happened. Aurie rose above the thick layer of hazy smoke and the background chatter. She vividly saw herself down the road at Liquid Lava’s, singing for hundreds of fans swaying and dancing to the melody of her music. The heat and the energy were tangible, as though she was actually there. In her mind, she was there. It was the biggest night of her career. Her comforting vision lasted the entire song but drifted away when the instruments drew quiet again.

Next, the band introduced a new song they’d been working on, and the same thing happened. Only this time Aurie envisioned herself in a state-of-the-art recording studio, laying tracks with her band and a handful of top-notch producers. The excitement of cutting a record, which had always been her dream, drove her to new heights as she performed. It transported her so distinctly that Aurie even held her hands to the sides of her head a couple of times, like touching headphones that rested on her ears. Earlier in the evening, she’d given up on the dream of recording in a studio, thinking she’d never experience the high of it. However, this moment was so real she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her body.

Like before, as soon as the song ended, so did her time in the studio. How had she experienced her dreams so powerfully on her last night as a performer? Whatever it was, she wanted more.

 Chest heaving and head bowed, she prepared to deliver the show's final song. The opening chords blasted from the keyboard. She slowly raised her head to look out over the crowd, her heart pounding and discovered she was no longer in the club with a hundred (or so) fans. She was on a stadium stage performing for a sold-out crowd. 

Aurie poured every ounce of effort, passion, and energy into that one last performance because she knew she’d never be on a stadium tour again. Hell, she knew she wasn’t on one now. But her cunning mind tricked her effortlessly into believing it. Thousands and thousands of cell phone flashlights twinkled all around her like fireflies. Stars dotted the night sky. They looked so close she could reach up and pluck one down. Her voice carried to the heavens above, every note perfectly on pitch.

Then, out of nowhere, a brilliant star shot across the sky. As a child, she learned that a shooting star meant someone was about to enter Heaven. As Aurie closed the show, the realization struck her that maybe the shooting star in her vision wasn’t a sign of a dying person. What if it predicted the death of her dreams instead? Tears gushed uncontrollably from her eyes as she stepped off the stage. The long, icy fingers of failure strummed her backbone, sending a symphony of shivers through her body.

Alone in her dressing room, Aurie crouched on the cold dark floor between two towering cases of liquor and made the most painful phone call of her life. No one would pick up so late on New Year’s Eve. Knowing that, she called anyway. If she didn’t call right away, then she never would. Accepting the office manager position left her lonely and grieving the loss of a lifetime of dreams.

***

Well after the sun came up the next day, an A&R rep from Matchbox Records sat down to enjoy breakfast. Scrolling through social media, he spotted a video clip with a caption that read, “The greatest NYE show that most of us missed.” Captivated by Aurie’s performance, he watched the clip three times. And then he watched it again. He wasn’t the only one. In a mere six hours, the video had gone viral. Without hesitation, he called his assistant to set up a meeting with the girl in the video.