velvet paradise (ftm x fem)

Track 32

ALAIA

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Erin announces, "we're starting the show with a unique twist." She wiggles her soft-angled eyebrows at the zooming camera lens, causing the audience to gasp before breaking into humming murmurs. Eager for the TV host's surprise, her guests lean forward. As Erin's medium-length bob casts a shadow over her face, a suspenseful atmosphere overtakes the studio. Studio lighting accentuates the host's bold, red-lipped grin as she sits in front of a faux backdrop of Atlanta's starry skyline.

Meanwhile, I adjust my slightly uncomfortable earpiece, preparing for our performance. Glancing at Jaire, I catch him altering the strap of his vibrant pastel blue electric guitar; its sheen catches the light. A subtle wink enhances his gentle smile, adding to his charm. A current of adrenaline buzzes within me, mixing jitters and exhilaration.

Behind the keyboard, Drizz emanates confidence, fully prepared for another stellar late-night appearance. Elise hums smoothly, her voice poised like an instrument waiting to be played. Harlem, with his swaying locs, embodies an internal rhythm. Cassie, documenting every instance, captures the momentous occasion with her camcorder. Her arms crossed, Serenity thoroughly discusses with the chief producer, ensuring every detail is meticulously arranged.

Jaire waves in my peripheral vision, commanding my attention. He gestures in sign language, "Don't look so nervous." His palms tremble with an exaggerated flair, emphasizing his playful message.

"I'm not nervous." I motion steadily to prove my point. "I'm taking in the moment. Mind your business."

Erin's voice disrupts our silent banter. "Tonight, we have special guests, my new favorite band, velvet paradise!" The crowd erupts with cheers, causing the floor to vibrate unimaginably. My eyelids expand, meeting Elise's stunned gape. The building pulses eagerly as if The Fugees have reunited and will bless the venue with their greatest hits.

The door shielding the stage rises amidst deafening praise. A striking glow of fluorescent purple lights illuminates the darkened platform, revealing us. After a few moments of applause, the instruments flood the vicinity. The intro to our debut single, "Ready or Not," begins, and our voices blend in a harmonious union. The song carries notes of nostalgia, captivating the spectators with its rich and revitalizing throwback melody.

Positioned in the middle, I bob my head in sync with the sensual tempo, belting out my parts while admiring the sheer talent of my bandmates. Over the past three weeks, society has embraced our tune, and devoted fans showcase their familiarity by passionately singing along. Despite days of practice, the breakup anthem grips my soul, igniting spontaneous vocal improvisations. The band seamlessly complements my additions, their celestial whispers cascading upon the venue like blessings from the heavens.

And then comes Jaire's beloved high note. As he reaches it, women in the crowd spew forth a chorus of tears and chaotic excitement. Amidst the blinding lights, I glimpse an engrossed woman swooning at the nectarous intonation. Her friend catches her, witnessing a mix of astonishment and desire etched on her captivated face. Each time his tone soars to that octave, I fight to suppress the same stimulating reaction within myself. I remind myself to gaze at him respectfully in public, knowing that once we're in the privacy of our hotel room, it'll be a different story altogether.

Once the song crescendos to its finale, the ardor in the studio mounts to unprecedented heights. With a whimsical touch, I cover my ears, relishing the reverberating applause of the thunderous standing ovation. Jaire gracefully places his guitar on its stand and bows to the idolizing crowd. Our eyes meet, intensifying the overwhelming storm of joy swirling through my spirit. I've dreamed of my first official live performance but never imagined being surrounded by these talented individuals, gathering every note and sound.