I'm Sorry, Water?

“I’m sorry,” Jessica Truelove said, to the girl who shot by without stopping. “I’m sorry,” she tried again, but the man didn’t break stride. “Hello,” Jessica said, changing tactic, to no avail. “Could I please have a glass of water?” she whispered to no one in particular. Maybe if the air knew she desperately wanted some water it would appear. Like all these people it would jump forth from nooks and crannies, from behind curtains and closed doors. The people kept appearing, but not a glass of water came.

The producer, as the girl had introduced herself, told Jessica she needed to stand right there and wasn't allowed to move from her spot. ‘For no reason,’ she had said, followed by some ludicrous examples. Of course, Jessica would move if there was a fire, wouldn’t she? The producer girl, who was much younger than Jessica, was very persuasive. She talked like a Tommy gun and from the moment she had come to pick Jessica up at the front desk she never stopped moving. They talked while they walked; ‘You won’t need any props, correct?’ Uh-huh. ‘No special lighting, yes?’ Uh-huh.

“And no song?” The producer girl stopped a second for that question, looked Jessica in the eye for the first time. What was that tone? ‘No song?’ Slightly tilting her head, raising her eyebrow.

“Uh, oh, no. See I —”

“Okay,” and producer girl moved on.

The building was like a maze, narrow hall into wide-open office space, down stairwell, into studio, through curtains, into narrow hall, and on, and on. “It says your name is Jessica Truelove?” See, there it was again. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s —”

“Come along.”

Jessica wasn’t going crazy, right? This girl was having an attitude. No, ‘truelove’ isn’t my real name, little bitch. You try getting on a talent show, or actually anything, with a name like ‘Dziechciowski’. That’s what Jessica was thinking of saying. And she waited to get it out, but her mouth went dry and the moment passed. To say anything after the moment passed, that was social suicide with these little shits. Jessica knew as much from having a couple of younger cousins. Pff, they should see Jessica now. Would piss their extra, extra small, bulimic pants with glee. ‘Oh my god, you’re really doing that?’ And now here was another one of them putting Jessica in her spot.

“Could I have some water?”

“…not for an earthquake, not —”

“Okay, but some —”

“…even, like, for the end of the world. Okay?”

“Yeah, but —”

“Okay.” producer girl said, already getting up to speed, moving passed Jessica and off into one of the curtains. Gone, taken hostage by red velour. And so Jessica was left to stand alone, while around her people worked like ants.

From her spot, she could see across the stage into the wings on the other side. Over there was an equally jittered shape staring out onto the stage. Her mirror image, with a similar pretty dress, equally crafted hairdo, and the same fake smile hiding a whopper of a panic attack. The woman was called then by a voice on stage. She stumbled forward, caught herself, and butterflied onto the podium with such sudden grace it made Jessica shake. The woman introduced herself so whimsical it made the entire building shake with the crowd’s laughter. Oh god, Jessica thought, she would be on after this woman, who had now broken into song. Her voice was angelic, of course it was, and everyone was silent. She dipped to low notes, soared over high ones, all underscored by the full orchestra on her backing track. Jessica didn’t have a backing song like that, why did Jessica opt-out of a song, oh dear god.

As Aretha’s reincarnated soul finished her performance, Jessica closed her mouth only to find an ounce of heavy-grained sand had replaced her tongue. It sloshed around her mouth and she felt her chest tighten. She would be next, after this. Without a glass of water, she wouldn’t even make it through the first verse. All those people would be looking at her flopping her tongue around the stage like a caught fish. So many people. And, oh god, oh god, oh god, them. Jessica swerved around, ready to throw up, trying to find someone to clamp onto for a glass of water or a gun. Her mind looked for someone to blame. Why was she here, who did this to her, what cruelty!

“I’m sorry,” the words barely came out and nobody listened. “I’m sorry,” again, but louder now. Still, people shot by, and no one paid Jessica any attention. Out on stage, she heard the jury heap praise onto Mariah’s long lost child. Suddenly, an explosion went off and for a second Jessica thought God himself had come to save her. She looked back and saw golden confetti raining down from the sky. Oh fuck. She focused again on her task at hand, this had bought her some time. Backstage people had come to a standstill, looking at a big screen, smiling. There was a family, crying. This was Jessica’s moment and she took a step, head spinning to find a bathroom.

“Please wait there,” producer girl called from the smiling crowd. Everyone looked at Jessica and in the blink of an eye they looked as they had before; annoyed with everything. 

“Could I have a —”

The crowd dispersed, scurrying into whatever crevice they could find. They did this on purpose. How could she, would she, should she…thoughts stacked on top of each other in her head. On stage, she heard an animated voice sing some more praise about Whitney’s successor to the throne, before segueing into a prolonged ‘and now’ as Jessica’s heart gave out. She wasn’t even sure she remembered what song she was singing, or how she would make it onto the stage. She looked down and found she still had legs, that was a comfort. Then Jessica blacked out for a second until she was shaken awake by the crowd laughing. Was she on the stage already? Maybe she was, how did she get there?

“My name is Jessica Truelove,” she said, trying to keep her voice straight. The light dazzled her and she couldn’t see anything. She didn’t hear anything either but decided to continue. 

“I’m here to sing a cappella for you,” and tried to give a big smile. Jessica waited for a voice to tell her she could start. The ground was still solid below her, the sun would keep shining whatever happened, today would pass by. These were thoughts that kept Jessica sane, for the moment. The voice remained silent. Was she expected to just go for it? She opened her mouth. A hand grabbed Jessica’s shoulder from behind. They came to take her away before she had even started.

“Oh girl, you sound like you could use some water,” a voice said. Jessica swerved around and found a smile beaming at her.

“Wha—”

“Babe, we’re in commercials. Relax, come with me.”