the last song

Here we go.

I stepped on the stage. Bright lights flared from above. Random notes were hit by the percussion and string people as they tried to get their instruments in tune. The hosts to my left prattled on about something as they took a swig from their bottles.

The floor was a hustle. The crowd drank and cheered and clapped and moved around like we were having one big party on a Friday night. Save that it's Monday; like it would stop the people in the bar from having a good time.

Somewhere in the sea of indistinguishable faces are my friends. They're the reason why I'm here. Partly, anyway. I couldn't find them though, even if I wanted to; and really I wanted to. But that's how it is – while I stand front and center, up for everyone to gawk at, the audience is nothing but a landscape of loud silhouette.

But it's alright. The darkness is rather helpful in shaking off the jitters. Not that I have one. On the contrary, I'm rather anxious to have a go at this.

Don't get me wrong, I do experience stage fright but it is usually tempered by my shameless desire for the limelight. Yes, I have a Rachel Berry complex. As she once said, "I need applause to live." I’m pretty sure she stole that line from me.

Tonight, under these circumstances, that statement applies literally. I fear for my performance. I am a lot fidgety about my voice.

See, two weeks prior, I had a Glee-oke at home. I must have had an overdose of serotonin and delusion because I overly enjoyed the Defying Gravity number. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I had to sing it over and over and over again, not completely oblivious to the gradually increasing strain on my throat whenever I hit the last few gravity-defying notes. The day after, my voice cracked. By Friday, I had a videoke party with my friends. It was then that I realized that I can no longer sing to save my life. I have lost the one thing I can’t live without – my voice.

On top of that, I am to perform a song that I'm not exactly prepared for.

There was a microsecond of silence, and then the opening chords of the song were strummed by the lead guitarist. I took one last sweep of the room to locate my guaranteed life source but to no avail.

"Huh huh huh hu-uh huh..." The hosts-cum-back-vocals started.

I took the mic, closed my eyes and ad-libbed, "hmmm hmm hmm" all the while praying that my voice won't fail me this one time.

I opened my eyes, slowly for the dramatics, and embraced my audience.

The things we do... I thought to myself before singing,

"So true, funny how it seems..."