Page 59 of Midnightsong
The thought of a live show looming over her head, one where thousands of people would tune in, made her quake in her loafers and all her memorized points fled, like a school of fish scattering when a shark, or person, was in the vicinity.
She already hated public speaking when she had time to thoroughly prepare and rehearse her speech over multiple weeks.
But going on live television with a week to prepare? What if she bombed it? Couldn’t find her words? Sat there like a grinning fool with an empty cavern for a mind? An opportunity like this might not come around again.
“Nervous?” the makeup artist asked, dabbing her forehead before applying primer.
“My drenched face gives it away?” A high-pitched chuckle escaped her.
He let out a lighthearted laugh. “It’s normal. My boyfriend is an actor, and he still gets nervous before getting on that stage, and he’s been doing it for ten years. Just go out there and have fun. You’ll do great.”
His pep talk settled her, and she did several rounds of box breathing before they called her on set.
Here went nothing.
“Before I let you go, Angie, thank you so much for coming on with us today,” the news host said, her smile as bright and wide as it was when Angie first sat in front of her fifteen minutes ago. “Are there any last words you’d like our audience to know?”
After a rough start where Angie fumbled, she had succeeded in shoving down her fight or flight response and allowed herself to lightly tap her fingers on her lap to manage her anxiety. “I hope this can be a positive step forward for treating the merfolk the way they deserve. They’re not animals for us to use and discard as we please, not that it’s right to treat animals that way, either.” A hard swallow, and her next words tumbled out before she could stop them. “You should see their world. It’s gorgeous and there’s so much we can learn from them. They love so deeply. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Even when our people were fighting, I never felt safer than when I was with my Mer-Prince.”
Before he betrayed your trust, a niggling voice whispered in the back of her head.
“That’s beautiful.” The news host’s eyes were misty.
Angie shook Kaden out of her thoughts. “Anyway, as both a human being and a friend of the mer, I will continue my efforts to raise awareness and hopefully make progress in promoting peace toward our species.” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat, making a conscious effort to sit straight and look confident.
Applause rippled through the audience, and the news host stood to shake Angie’s hand, thanking her again before the producers cut the cameras.
Angie stopped by her apartment after the segment to change out of her blazer and slacks, donning a comfortable long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans.
She texted her friends and family the good news of her relatively successful interview before her gaze fell to her top cabinet, housing her seaflute.
On instinct, she wanted to pull it out and tell Kaden, but stopped halfway reaching for the cabinet handle, her hand floating in midair.
The thought of hearing his voice sent a gut punch to her abdomen and created a dull ache in her chest—a painful reminder he had lied to her.
Still, she wanted to get a message to the Mer-King and Mer-Queen, and she flipped through her notepad to where she had written down Serapha, Varin, and Cassia’s names in Renyuhua, which Kaden had given to her in case of emergency, and he had given them Angie’s.
With a careful hand, she wrote Cassia’s name over the seaflute’s body. “Queen Cassia, are you there? It’s Angie.”
Silence for a torturous minute.
“Angie?” Cassia’s melodic voice filtered through, even and calm, like the Mer-Queen herself. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m okay. Um, I’m calling because I spoke to–” She paused. How would she describe a news show to the mer? “I went on an interview and talked to them about mer rights. And some humans are open to peace with you.”
“Oh?”
“I’m going to try and get an audience with our leaders next. Would you consider speaking with our leaders, and hopefully moving forward to find answers together?” She sucked in her breath, anticipating Cassia’s answer.
“Hmm,” the Mer-Queen murmured. “Meet Varin and I when the tides shift to low suntide. We’ll wait for you in the throne room. I will send Calora to meet you at the surface and escort you. She just got back.”
That meant she had until early tomorrow morning, and Angie checked her schedule quickly. Tomorrow, she had afternoon classes only, and if she could be back from meeting Cassia by eleven a.m., she would make her first class. She already missed one class today; she couldn’t miss another tomorrow. “Yes, I’ll meet her at the shore.”
“Very well. I’ll see you then.” Cassia went silent on her end, and about to put her seaflute away, another voice came through.
Kaden.
Scorching tears burned the backs of her eyelids, but she wiped them away before they could fall.
