Page 29 of Finding Tane
I scanned the crowd, aware I was taking too long to say anything.
I cleared my throat.
“Gidday everyone, my name’s Tane.” There was a smattering of applause.
“Yeah, Tane!” Aster called from the popcorn cart.
I strummed my guitar, then faltered, uncertain, what was I going to sing? I’d made myself a mental playlist but I couldn’t remember any of it now.
Sweat beaded on my forehead as the silence stretched out. How did I used to do this? It was terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
How had I managed all those nights? All those concerts? Had I just been getting drunk before each show? Maybe. There had definitely been some pharmaceutical assistance at times.
Or was there some skill I’d lost? The knack of going out on stage, confident that people wanted to see me, and that I had talent.
I’d lost that knowledge somewhere along the way.
But people were here to be entertained. They hadn’t necessarily come for me, but to see something. I could be that something, couldn’t I?
I caught sight of Dillon. He was smiling at me, confident and proud. He gave me a thumbs up.
Dillon believed in me.
I breathed out. I was going to start withSlice of Heavenby The Herbs and Dave Dobbyn, that was it. A chill, catchy Kiwi song that hopefully, people would sing along with once they caught the chorus.
Strumming the old, familiar tune, I started to sing.
Time slipped away on me and I lost myself in the music. This felt easy. Singing, playing my guitar, and smiling at the crowd who were swaying and clapping in time.
Some of them did learn the chorus and sung along on the second time around. It was a good vibe.
This was why I did it. I’d lost track of it somewhere, somehow along the way, but now it came back to me. This ancient art of music making, of simply raising my voice in song, I felt connected to my ancestors, and to every troubadour and song-writer who’d ever come before me.
I was part of a greater whole. The human need to create, to share, to sing and to dance, for a moment I was a conduit of that once more.
Moving into my second and third songs, some of the New Zealand songs that I knew had charted overseas, and after a couple of Maori waiata, I performed the first song I’d ever got a number one charted position for.Take Me Homehad come from a place of homesickness, and feeling like I didn’t belong, but the song changed during the verses, and became a song of love and hope.
This was what I wanted.
I wanted to make music that made people happy. I didn’t want to make music to make money for someone else, and I didn’t care any more about the charts. I wanted to use my talent to connect.
I finished up the song and was deafened by the force of the applause.
Aster ran up and hugged me tight. He’d got a new binder the day before and he was looking great. I laughed and hugged him with one arm, holding my guitar out of the way.
Dillon gently took the guitar off me and set it aside before hugging me too.
“Your voice is so beautiful Tane, it was like being transported or something.”
Dillon and I hadn’t really spoken about our relationship. We’d slept in the same bed for two weeks but the most we did was peck each other on the cheek or hold hands.
Now that I’d had my epiphany about what I wanted from my music, I knew what I wanted from Dillon too.
Aster moved back and I cupped Dillon’s chin in one hand. “Hey Dill?”
“Yeah?”
“Want to be my boyfriend?”
