Page 10 of The Night the Stars Went Dark

Aspen

I sighed as I stretched my arms above my head. My back hurt, my neck hurt, everything hurt. I rubbed my eyes before slowly standing to pace the tiny room. I’d been locked in this practice room for the last eight hours. It wasn’t much bigger than a closet. All four walls were painted white. A florescent light glared from the ceiling. The gray carpet softened the echo. It was supposed to be a place to escape, but on days like today it felt like a prison. I frowned as I stared at the piece of sheet music sitting on the stand. The edges were crinkled from me holding it to make notes. Pencil marks adorned every possible place they’d fit, and there were a few water stains from tears during the first couple of practices. This piece was my albatross.

I called my dad last night just to hear his voice. I needed him to tell me I could do this. I was not only playing this piece for my senior showcase but auditioning for the New York Symphony with it. It took him a good hour to calm me down. “What if they say no?” I whispered as I stared out the window at the dark sky. It was a clear night and the sky was peppered with twinkling stars.

“Then you try again.” Dad seemed so sure. “Did I ever tell you about the first time someone told me no?” He chuckled a little as if remembering brought back a fond memory, which I thought was odd.

“No,” I murmured.

“Your mom and I had been dating for a few months and instead of practicing, I was hanging out with her. My parents kept warning me that I needed to stay focused and get my head out of the clouds. When I went to my audition, I completely forgot what I was doing. I stumbled so many times that they told me to leave and come back when I was ready. It took me a year tobe ready. I came back and got the job.” I could the hear the smile in his voice.

“Were your parents upset?” I nibbled my lip.

“No.” He laughed.

“Were you?” I cringed. I knew I’d be mad at myself if I screwed this up.

“No,” He laughed again. “I got your mom out of it. We got married and she made me promise that I’d practice every day no matter what. She pushed me to be better, and I could never repay her for that.” His voice drifted off as the memory engulfed him. I knew talking about Mom was hard for him, but he’d never really shared these stories with me.

“Thanks.” I sat up and moved closer to the window. It was the only view of the outside in my tiny apartment.

“You’re welcome. Penny, I know you can do this.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I disconnected the call.

Now I’m just trying to muster that feeling again. I sat back down on the bench, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started to play. The first half always went smooth, it was the ending that I kept screwing up. I stared down at the notes on the page and my fingers tried to remember which keys to tap away on.You are good enoughkept floating through my head. Just as I was coming to the last line, there was a knock at the door.

I jolted, causing my hands to slip and bang against the keys. I growled in frustration. I’d booked the room for the entire day. No one should be bothering me.

I punched the bench beside my hips before turning to glare at the wooden door behind me. The small window near the top was difficult to see out of. The knock came again and I stood, trying to keep my anger in check as I took the three steps I needed to reach the knob. I yanked open the door, prepared to give the interrupter a piece of my mind, when Bryson’s outline appeared.

“Oh good, you’re on a break.” He held up a paper bag. “I brought dinner.”

“I’m not on a break. I’m trying to get this ending right.” I scowled. “I’m not hungry.”

“I was here this morning when you disappeared into this cave. You haven’t come out. You need to eat.” He shook his head. “Just look at you.”

I stared down at my sweatpants and baggy shirt. My hair was twisted up on top of my head. I’m sure I had circles under my eyes. I was a mess. I knew that, but I wasn’t perfect yet.

“Come.” He reached for my elbow to pull me into the hallway.

“But…” I pointed to the keyboard with my music.

“It’ll be fine. You need to eat.” He led and I followed. I wasn’t sure where we were going, but when he heaved the heavy steel door open and sunlight hit my face, I squinted. “I come up here when I need to escape the pressure. You can see everything.” He spun in a circle before reaching in his backpack and producing a towel. “Sit.”

“I used to do this at home. Best view in the city.” I crossed my legs before leaning back on my arms and staring up at the sky. The roof was the best place to hide from the world. The sun was a golden orange slowly sinking behind trees on the far side of campus. The sky was turning beautiful shades of purple and pink. Bryson handed me a burger wrapped in foil that he’d grabbed at one of the campus eateries. There were fries in the bag, and a chocolate shake. “This gets you a pass.” I held up the shake and sipped.

“Aw, thanks.” He laughed as he took a bite of his burger. “You do know that there is a such thing as practicing too much, right? You have to give your brain a break.”

“I have to be perfect,” I murmured. “If I’m not, what was all this for?”

“You met me.” He pointed to his chest. “No really, think about who you were four years ago, and who you are now. Are they the same person?” He waited and I slowly shook my head.

“Guess not.” I shrugged as I popped a fry in my mouth.

“Would you have sung at an open mic four years ago? What about Vivaldi. Would you have been playing that four years ago? You’re not the same person, and perfection doesn’t mean success. You’re stupid good, and if a symphony doesn’t want you, then it’s their loss.” He leaned over and knocked his shoulder against mine. “Tell me I’m right.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“You’re right.” I blinked a few times to keep the tears from falling. I don’t know if they were from stress or happiness.

---