Page 27 of Reaching Avery
“It’s my treat,” I said, getting the impression money was the issue. “It can either be a celebration of an amazing audition, or a pick-me-up after I bomb it.”
“Thanks. Sounds fun,” Avery said with a small smile. “And you’ll do great.”
The auditorium doors opened, and I jumped at the sudden sound. Peter came walking out, giving me a smug grin. His small frame, perfectly styled auburn hair, andgreater than thoustrut only added to his obvious arrogance.
“Your turn, jock boy,” he said in a honeyed voice. “Fat chance of toppingthatperformance.”
Since he was in choir instead of drama, I didn’t know him thatwell, but from his attitude, I was glad for that.
“Er, thanks,” I said, ignoring his jabs. I didn’t want to sink to his level. “Awesome job in there.”
“I know,” he said before giving me the up-down. Of course, his gaze landed on the book in my hands. “You’re seriously doing a song fromLes Mis? How convenient, seeing as your audition will reflect the musical. Miserable.”
Without another word, he turned his back to me and left.
“He is a total diva,” Sarah stated the obvious and looked at me. “Ignore him. He’s just trying to throw you off your game.”
The doors creaked opened and Mr. Lee appeared. “Hey, guys. Mav, you ready?”
For some reason, I looked at Avery, and he offered me an encouraging smile. I tried to take from that confidence. Sarah gave me a quick hug before stepping back and putting her hands to her mouth in an excited way as she bounced.
I nodded to Mr. Lee and walked inside, fighting the jelly feeling in my legs.
The room was quiet as I neared the stage, the only sounds being my footsteps and the slight scraping of chairs as the judges shifted in their seats. My head buzzed as I ran through the lyrics, and I said a silent prayer that I wouldn’t forget any of the words.
Adrenaline made my body tremble a bit, and it reminded me of how I felt before a big game. The roar of the crowd usually helped pump me up, but in that auditorium, there was no chanting crowd or cheerleaders; there was only the racing of my heart and the soft exhales escaping my lips.
“Good afternoon,” I said once I took my spot on the stage. The lights were dimmed in the audience, but I could see the judges in the center, surrounded by all the empty chairs. “I’m Maverick, and I’m auditioning for the role of the Beast.”
Mrs. Higgins, the choir teacher, had a kind of intimidating quality to her. She was in her mid-forties, and had one of those faces where she always looked like she was mad, even when she was just sitting there.
“What are you singing today?” Mr. Lopez, the band director, asked, nodding to the book I held.
That’s when an idea struck me. When it came to vocal talent, Peter beat me. And while “Stars,” the song I’d originally picked, was pretty and showed a good vocal range, I was certain it would fall flat compared to the one that came before it.
Sometimes an amazing vocal performance wasn’tjusthow high you could sing or how long you could hold out said high notes… sometimes it was purely emotional. Something that grips your heart, keeps you on the edge of your seat, and makes youfeel.
“I’ll be singing “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” fromLes Miserables,” I answered before walking over to the pianist and handing her the songbook.
This song was one that hit me right in the chest, and it was the one part while watching the movie that really made me tear up. It took place after a battle, when a guy’s friends had all died, and he’s looking at the places they used to sit and talk, knowing they’d never do so again and questioning what their sacrifice was for.
I might not have been the best singer, but I hoped my emotional performance could score me some extra points.
“Begin when you’re ready,” Mrs. Higgins said, her face expressionless.
The first few measures of the song were vocal only, and the piano would come in afterward, softly.
One moment passed, then another, as I steadied my nerves and deeply inhaled and exhaled. I looked up and focused on the back of the auditorium, seeing a light come through the slightly ajar door.
Sarah and Avery must’ve been on the other side, waiting. Listening.
I pictured them there, and the image gave me confidence, knowing I had their support even though I couldn’t see them. My hands shook, as did my breaths, but I mustered up courage, and tried to put myself in the headspace of the song.
And then I started singing.
As the beginning words escaped my lips, it was so quiet I was sure they could hear the frantic beating of my heart. But something kind of magical happened. Once the piano came in, I relaxed a considerable amount.
War. Men dying for a cause they believed in, but one that shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. The pain that’s left behind from the survivors and loved ones. I put myself in that mindset and not only sang the words, but Ifeltthem deep in my soul.
