A Moment filled with Trepidation

My face lit by the bulb framed mirror which hung on the neatly painted wall. My virtual reflection faced me back as I stared at my eyes trying to encode my own thoughts. Then, lazily I moved the eyeballs at my bright collar, white and flawless. Pushing my neck a bit higher, I combed my hair again the fiftieth time. Still not satisfied.

Once again I was back at staring my square face. It was best to drop the eyelids and blacken the sight, to stay silent and breathe, to flow serenity and relax. I thrashed my back against the chair on which I sat, leaving all my pressure for the chair to support. There was a continuous hustle and bustle outside the chamber which was designated for me. I knew, dancers would be getting dressed, ballerina’s would be wearing their pointe’s, musician’s gathering their instruments and tightening their guitar strings, actors would be final rehearsing.

What I did not know was about myself. Courage had shrunk and I could not help stop the shivering fingers I had. Performers were joyous and proud for another grand event though they were blind of my thoughts, blind of my feelings. As soon as I drove my mind towards this day, the heart inside gaped to the throat and the acids juiced my stomach. My face would be presented in front of a thousand people, this was my debut day in this grand opera, a day where I could show the people my talents, my skills; this day, I would be recognized as a pianist among great performers in this opera, I would be remembered as a legend, there would be rows of events waiting to set ablaze with my piano tunes, but then I stopped before I could smile because all this was certain if I outclassed here.

All these performers outside are veteran, they are all skilled and polished and they have developed confidence with time. I was new, a flower bud who hasn’t spread its petals yet, who is scared of being harmed by anything. A thousand ladies and gentlemen, rich and well-mannered would be attentively listening to my music, they would be relentlessly searching for mistakes. How would I face them? The spotlights would glamour my face but I would enjoy them until my luck favors me. The hall would be dark and silent, every eye would be on me. Will I stay focused or fall my own tempo? One wrong note would certainly erupt the hall with “ohhhhhh” How will I bear that? How would I remain seated? Well, turning away would finish my career and I laughed. Suddenly, my right leg went mad. It could not halt the shoe from tapping the floor.

Then, not lately, the door knocked and my hair rose and it felt they would break free from my skin, but thanks they didn’t. I raised and trembled past the cupboards and the drawers disgorging the feathery hats, glittering gowns, fur-covered scarfs and a lot more which dazzled my eyes. I pushed the door open and caught five beautifully dressed dancers who, in fact, were to dance behind me as I would play the piano. Their faces were dipped in white powder and bright red blush-on seemed perfect. “It is time, the show is about to start” one of them chuckled in delight. However, I hated her. At that moment, I looked at her with disgust. It was show time. My blood raced inside my head and I felt the heat surrounding me gradually. I closed my door, ignoring whatever the dancers felt of my absurd behavior.

I sat again at the chair and spoke, “It is just a show” but then, another voice within me said, “No it is not a show! It is a nightmare” and then I spoke, “It would be a nightmare if things go wrong, but everything is fine” and again that voice, “Stop telling lies to yourself! You would forget the notes at the end time because it happens!” and I shouted, “I won’t forget! Just stop over-thinking” and I blinked the eyes several times to vanish my thoughts and quickly grabbed the white face powder and wiped it at the cheekbones and neck. I looked dramatic but it would look fine at the stage. Then suddenly, I heard someone speaking on the mic outside. I knew, the show had started and there came once again the trepidation. I felt my eye pads becoming wet and I touched. They were tears. Who asked them to show up? I was agitated. All my makeup was ruined and I screamed inside my heart.

Obviously, with shivering hands I pulled a tissue from the box and cleaned my face to ready it for another makeup layer. Thoughts constantly came and went but one was stuck. What if I forget the notes? I felt awful and was scared. I had done much practice but still remained uncertain. I wanted Mama to come and comfort me, give me hope, hug me and transform my thoughts. I glanced at the clock and I needed to go. I went out and saw Mr. Sturdy, the most famous singer in this opera and he looked at me, “Good luck young man” I stared at him and smiled but controlled my emotions and walked away to the stage which was my fright. The ballerinas were performing as I heard the Sugar plum fairy song being played.

I scratched me fingers together all of a sudden for it was my turn after the ballerinas. Then I said to myself, “I cannot run away from it, today or tomorrow, I have to face the audience. It is just an hour long” I stopped behind the stage wings, shadowed in the dark. I watched the ballerinas going round and round. Few minutes later, they made their way back and my soul unnerved.

My heart missed many beats perhaps and my stomach ached. I heard the presenter speak my name. My feet tried to halt, my mind said ‘no’, but I forced myself dropping each worry. I went forward, away from the shadows, the spotlights fell on my face and I heard the applause.