The Golden Gates

3

— Be ready in five minutes. Go right to the stage after you change, sing what you know, guys will help, — Jasen headed for the door. I don't understand what he's talking about.

— Stage?! 

But I was ignored. I looked at the dress, at the mirror, and the dress again. I couldn't breathe. My hands were shaking, meanwhile the walls were shrinking and growing on a dime. I don't have time to panic. With my eyes closed, I counted to 10 and took a deep breath. It is what it is. When I went into the hall, I corrected the front strands of my hair. The musicians had already settled down on the stage. The closer I got, the more my knees trembled. The stairs ran out.

— Do you know "Wonderwall" by Oasis? — I turned to the band.

— Good choice, — said the guy, taking his guitar.

— Is it okay if I don't introduce myself? — I asked timidly.

This was my insparation for the next part

— it's all right, chill, — the pianist smiled, trying to cheer me up. Spoiler: she failed. I squeezed my lips together and turned to the audience. Time stopped for a second. Feeling my legs collapse, I took a microphone with one hand, and a stance with another. Deafening silence. Thank God no one noticed me. I pray to save my face tonight. The first chords filled the space. My eyes shut. The melody leads me like a wave, directing my head from side to side. My throat is dry, I can't do it. My heart is pounding too loud. But the words themselves came out of my chest. My hands became unbearably heavy but in a moment the earth was gone from beneath my feet. I float above the soft fluffy clouds. The wings carry me in an unknown direction. It feels like I can do anything I want now. There was a flame inside me, hot blood spilled through my veins. Fear vanished, I opened my eyes. Everyone looked at me. Jason showed me two thumbs with a happy face. It made me smile. Music has taken hold of me, of every cell of my body, of my consciousness. The left hand was drawing mysterious patterns in the air, like a poisonous cobra to the sound of a flute, like a quiet surf rolling on the shore. A thoughtful guitar sounds like a mountain stream running down rocks. And an encouraged piano responds to her as if an waterfall had collapsed from a top of the mountain. The louder the music became, the more my muscles strained. I stand at the edge of the cliff. Both hands clenched into fists, asking "You're gonna be the one that saves me?" Step into the abyss. "And after all", the hand slid down the black fabric to the thigh, "You're my wonderwall..." The white-headed eagle picked me up a few inches from the ground and soared me up into the sky. We flew over the hills, impassable thickets, emerald carpets and endless rivers. I gripped the microphone on the last line tightly. When the guests applauded, the feeling of euphoria gripped me completely. An employee came running from the hall and asked him to perform "Can't take my eyes off you". Without thinking, I nodded to the group. My voice started whirring, and then Jasen showed up and pointed at his watch.

— That's enough for today, — I just realized I was singing for almost two hours. After thanking the audience and the band, I hurried to the boy waiting for me.
— How do you feel? — he asked.
— I can't believe I did it! It was awesome! No! It was divine! — I was practically screaming, almost hanging onto Jasen. He didn't hesitate and put his arms around my waist.
— Thank you very much! — Noticing what I had just done, I let go of his neck.
— Thank you, show was great, you've definitely never performed anywhere before? — If I'd known in advance, I never would have dared to go on stage.
— Well, there were a couple of open mics but nothing special, — I said smiling, — Glad you liked it, — I didn't expect this confidence from myself.
— In case you hadn't noticed.
— Really? — But we didn't have time to finish the conversation.
— You look stunning in that dress, — said the tall and beautiful brown hair lady.
— I can't argue, — said Jasen, and took me to my dressing room.
— Thank you very much, — I hope she heard me, — You didn't let me speak to this lovely girl, — I made a discontented remark.
— Didn't you recognize her? — The guy was surprised.
— No, who is she?
— You really don't know Candice Cowbell? One of the most famous models in California but with an ambiguous reputation. If I were you, I'd stay away from her, — I'm not surprised she's a model, but I wasn't going to make friends wirh her, so Jasen was worried without the reason, — and there's one more rule, he said, facing me, don't tell anyone your real name. Take a stage name, — I didn't get his point, and I didn't really want to get into it.
— Okay, well, thanks for the advice, — Jasen is going to go out. I have absolutely no strength to change. Singing is so exhausting apperently.
— I suggest to celebrate your debut, — he said.
— No, no, thanks, I think we can do it another time, I desperatly need some sleep. I have to be at work tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. — I said as soon as we went outside. I wouldn't have come anyway.