Motivation of Memories: The Second Book of the Labors of Love Series

Sound Check

Genevieve's POV

It's the big day. The day of the concert, the day of my trial, the day that changes everything. If all is well I'll leave Cincinnati feeling better about my place here if not... I may need to reconsider some things. Feeling more excited than nervous, I glide off the bus with the rest of the band. We're lead through back doors down brick hallways until we arrive at two doors. The men split from the women and we all enter the dressing rooms. Us girls spend time picking out vanities and laying out our products.

I set out all my makeup, my curling irons, and my outfit. My hair is already straightened but I thought I'd bring my irons in case I need a touch up. A knock on the door tells us our time is up and we need to head to the stage. I grab my water bottle, following everyone down the long hallways. We arrive at a stage door and I can feel the change in floor as I pass through the doorway. The click clack of feet in linoleum is very different than the soft steps taken in Marley. I lag behind the others as I admire the equipment backstage. Lights and pulleys and levers near walls are all I can see in the darkness. Is it usually this dark backstage? I search for a memory of dark spaces before performances but my attention shifts as I step through the curtains.

The stage is massive. Bigger than any stage I've ever been on. Everyone takes time to set up their instruments. I find my place off to the right and see my tambourines sitting on a stool next to my mic. The bright lights call me forward passed the band, passed Prince's microphone. I stop just shy of the edge, barely out of its hot gaze. That's when I notice the thousands of seats and it all sinks in. My first real performance. We've done smaller gigs and even a smaller tour but the venue has never been this big. I try counting all the rows and get lost once I notice the balcony. I've performed before but never for thousands. Hundreds? Sure. A single thousand? Maybe. But thousands? Multiple thousands? Maybe even more than ten thousand? What will I do?

I take a deep breath and start to feel a familiar tightness in my chest. I step back from the edge as the thoughts begin to swarm. Two hands hold my arms as I stumble into someone.

"We're about to start, mama. Why don't you change your shoes and stretch a little?" I blink rapidly, bringing myself back to the moment. I quickly change my shoes and begin to stretch. I keep my eyes closed to keep myself from staring out into the void of the audience.

Around me people begin to warm up their voices and their instruments. Solfège and scales fill the space and begin to occupy my mind. I hold my tambourine tightly, hitting it on my hip nervously. I know the sound is probably annoying but I needed something to do with my hands.

"Alright we're gonna test everybody's microphones starting with the mics for the instruments. When I call you or your instrument play for about 10 seconds. I'll adjust it and you'll play again. Let me know if you can't hear yourself in the monitors. Starting with you Prince." Prince plays for a moment, stopping after a little while. "Alright go for two." He plays some more. This time it comes across a lot smoother and a lot more even. "Sounds good on our end. What about for you?"

"Turn it up a little in the left monitor." He says pointing. This goes on for a while. We make it through everyone's instruments without any issues even my tambourine.

"Alright now I want everyone to sing into the microphone. Sing the chorus of a song. I'll tell you when to stop." They make it through everybody fine then it's my turn. "Alright go for Genevieve." In that moment my mouth gets dry. I swallow hard attempting to bring the moisture back to my mouth. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and begin to sing the first thing that comes to mind, Darling Nicki. I sing the first verse and nearly collapse when feedback enter through the monitors. I step back as they adjust something trying to regain my calm after the shock. "Sorry about that. Try again." I sing a little bit he tells me to stop. "Can you hear her in the monitors?" Everyone says yes
"Jim, how does she sound in the crowd?"

"I can't hear her, Mitch. Bring her up."

"Alright, Genevieve. Go for two. Start back at the beginning of the song to give me more time to work it out." I sing into the microphone and that feeling returns to my chest. I close my eyes and try to focus using the words of the song to regulate my breathing. "Keep going almost got it." I repeat the chorus hoping this will be enough time for them to fix whatever's happening. Finally I receive the seal of approval and we move.

"Alright y'all. Remember your transitions, remember your footing, and practice like it's the real thing." Prince offers sternly into the microphone and I hone in. Practice like it's the real thing. "Fink gimme that intro."

Each song goes by quickly, faster than they ever did in rehearsal. So fast I feel like I'm out of breath and it's not just from the dancing. Everyone keeps telling me I did great but I don't know what I did. It's like I wasn't there. I still don't feel like I'm here in this space as I try to stand and walk back to the dressing room. We all talk for a while until it's time to start getting dressed. I got through the motions of getting ready. Makeup, clothes, hair. The other girls walk to the bus to get a few items they forgot. Finally feeling a little less restrained, I take a moment for myself. I lay down on the couch in the dressing room and try to breathe. I try to hum softly to myself but I can't even muster enough breath to hum. I've got 2 hours to get myself together or I'm going to let everyone down. I begin to go through my mental list of things to do when my nerves get bad. Hastily, I stand up grab a water from the table across the room. I sip it slowly but it doesn't help. It only makes me feel full. So I step into the center of the room and begin to stretch. I'm glad the others went back to the bus to get a few things. I really need this space. I stretch, I do jumping jacks, I do planks, I do push ups, nothing helps and now there are two different fires burning in my chest. I gasp for air and begin pacing the room as my chest tightens and my breath quickens. Impulsively I walk into the hallway and knock in the guy's door.

"Oh hey, G..."

"Where is he?" I gasp cutting Dez off.

"He's not in here check the stage." I walk briskly through the long hallways and the walls feel like they're closing in. I start sprinting trying to keep them from crushing me. I nearly pass the stage door but I grab the handle and attempt to twist it. The sweat on my hands makes it hard to open. I grip it with the sleeve of my jacket and yank it open with all the strength I have. I dodge the people backstage and burst through the curtain and see a familiar frame.

Prince's POV

I look over and see Genevieve practically wheezing. She's sweating and her body looks like it's crumbling. Her eyes are a new shade of brown. An urgent and terrified shade. She's opens her mouth to say something and it gets caught in her throat. Her jaw quivers and she tried to force it out. I put down my guitar and hurry over to her. She falls into me as soon as I'm in arms reach.
I catch her and help her walk off stage not wanting her to be under these stage lights. A few people who saw the ordeal have grabbed a chair and a fan. I sit down first and pull her into my lap.

"I-I-I-I...", she repeats on loop, her body shaking in my arms. I look down her and tears fall down her face as she struggles to get her words out.

"Shhhhh, baby. Baby, it's okay. Breathe. Breathe." I hold her tighter and rest my forehead on hers before whispering softly. "I already know what you're thinking. It's a big stage, and a big audience, and Cavallo is gonna be here and what if you blow it? I saw it on your face when you walked to the end of the stage." I stroke her hair gently. Shaky breaths leave her trembling mouth but her heart beat is slowing. "It's not going to happen and I tell you why. You're the hardest working person in this band. You started these dances the week you got the job and have been perfecting them since. You weren't all there earlier and you still did great. Imagine what the show will be if you're present. You've made it so far, baby. It's all working out. You got this."

"I... I just want this so bad." She whispers still crying softly.

"I know and it's all going to work out. Do you believe me?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to get some air before you help me get ready?"

"What do you need help with?"

"My eyeliner."

"Okay."

"Okay. Let's go get some air."