Take a Bow

“To be honest, I can’t think past the audition. I know you’re going to get in, so when I think about Juilliard, I just assume we’ll be there together. But if not, I’ll be in Boston. Look at me, like I’m just assuming that Berklee will accept me.

“I just need to take things one at a time. First the showcase, then the auditions. You know that I can’t handle too many things at once. I’ve vowed to not turn into a sobbing wreck for the rest of the semester.”

It’s getting late, so I get up to leave. Then a thought comes to me. “Hey, Ethan? If I wrote accompaniments, do you think you and the guys would join me on my song?”

“You know we’d love to.”

It doesn’t feel right to not have them up there with me for my song. Plus, I think adding guitars and a drum would make it a lot stronger. I know that I’d be sad when they left the stage, plus it is one of the last performances we’ll be doing. I want us to do as much together as possible before we all head our separate ways.

I turn around before I head to the door. “I’m going to really miss the band next year.”

“There’s always the summer,” he suggests.

But we both know that with the four of us spread across the country, it is going to be hard to pick up right where we left off. Sure, we’ll probably play together, but it won’t be the same. Nothing will be the same.

I look at Ethan and I know he’s harder on himself than anybody I’ve ever known. He’s so self-critical, and it doesn’t help that Jack teases him all the time, or that I yelled at him. But after The Incident and The Injury, he’s been a lot calmer and hasn’t exhibited his usual self-destructive behavior.

“I’m really proud of you,” I say.

He looks taken aback.

“Really. I know you’ve been through a lot, probably tortured yourself more than you should. But when I think about next year, it will make me sad if we aren’t together. You mean a lot to me. I never would’ve had the courage to do that solo if it wasn’t for you. So I guess I better practice extra hard so I get in.”

“You’re going to get in.”

And the way he says it, it’s like it’s a fact. A done deal.

But when Ethan says things like that to me, I believe him. Not because I have a bloated self-esteem, but because when he says it, I want to believe it.

I want to be that person he thinks I am.

And I thought things were bad before.

After winter break, we come back to the Showcase Stress Tsunami. The tension is palpable.

The four of us have a pact that there will be no talk about the upcoming college auditions until after the showcase. We don’t even have any gigs to distract us. It is all showcase, all the time.

I’m heading to our practice room when I see a very familiar strand of red hair poking out of a mass of two guitars, one oversize backpack, and a puffy winter coat.

“Emme!” I call out.

She turns around and accidentally drops one of her guitars. I pick it up.

“Here, give me that as well.” I take her backpack. “Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

She smiles at me … and my heart melts. Every time.

“Can it be May already?” She picks up her other guitar. “I’m not sure if the guitar should be electric or acoustic for my song…. I keep changing my mind, so I thought I’d bring both. Although maybe I should play the piano instead?”

“You’re not hiding behind the piano on this one.”

She bites her lip. “Yeah, but why do you get to?”

“Because it isn’t my moment.”

She stops walking. “Can we stop referring to the showcase as my moment? Anytime I think about it, I get sick to my stomach.”

I nod. I’d pretty much agree to anything she says. But it will be her moment.

We enter the room and start unpacking our gear. I reach in my pocket and hand her a protein bar.

She waves it away.

“You’ve got to eat something.”

Her stomach pains have gotten worse with the showcase just a week away. She’s hardly been eating and she’s thin enough as is. Not like I should talk, but when I’m nervous, I eat more. Which is probably why I’ve gained so much weight (granted, it was needed) since I’ve been at CPA. Constant nerves.

After she hooks her guitar up, I guide her to a seat.

She looks up at me like she’s waiting for a big lecture. I unwrap the bar and hand it to her. “Please eat something.”

She takes a small bite.

Jack bursts into the room with his arm around Ben. “Guess who got their early acceptance to Oberlin today?”

Emme screams. “Ben, that’s so fantastic!” She gets up and hugs him.

Jack laughs. “Just think about it. A year from now, I’ll be in su

Emme takes one more bite of the protein bar. She looks at it for a couple seconds and runs over to a garbage can to spit it out.

“What, Red, are you sick to your stomach over the thought of being so far away from me? I’d say you should come to LA, but I think you’d probably spontaneously combust if you stepped into the sun.”

I ignore Jack and run over to Emme.

“Sorry, it tastes like chalk.” She hands it back to me. “I’ll be fine … once, um, the auditions are over. I hope.”

She whips out her water bottle and takes a big sip. She turns her attention to Ben. “Ben, you have to tell us everything. What did the letter say? When did you find out?”

Ben hands us a copy of the e-mail he got just a few minutes before. “I had to run to the computer lab to print it out. It seemed like a joke.”

“That’s really great.” I give him a big hug.

I don’t know why I haven’t been stressing about college acceptance as much as everybody else. I mean, let’s face it, I’m never the calm, cool, collected one. I guess I figure that I’ll get in somewhere, although I really want to stay in New York and go to Juilliard with Emme. That’s my dream world. Pretty much everything involving Emme and the future is a dream, one that I know won’t necessarily come true.

I know I want to write songs and I’ll be happy doing it at a prestigious college or for three people at a coffee shop. Not like I don’t think I could learn something at Juilliard or any music college; it just isn’t as important to me as it is to everybody else.

But seeing the look on Ben’s face, I’m thinking that maybe it should be. I’ve never seen him happier. “Thanks,” he says. “It’s like this huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I don’t have to stress about …” He stops himself. Because the three of us still have our auditions and fates to worry about. “Well, we still have the showcase. Are we ready?”

We run through my song a few times; it’s something we’ve been playing for a while now. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from messing up the lyrics twice, but everybody else sounds great.

After we’re all satisfied, our attention turns to Emme’s song. I move my mic stand down several inches so the microphone can reach her.

She tentatively approaches the mic and adjusts it for way longer than she needs to. She finally turns around. “Um, okay. I guess we’ll start. So I was thinking that it would be best for me to start first.” She strums several chords and then nods for the rest of us to join in. We get to the part where she’s supposed to start singing and she simply keeps playing the song. “Obviously I’ll sing here,” she says as she moves closer to the drum kit and farther away from the microphone.

Jack stops drumming. “Red, you’ve got to own the song and the mic. Go all ‘Beat It’ on it!”