The lights were bright, almost blinding, as I sat in the front row of the audience, waiting for my turn. My palms were slick with sweat, and I kept fidgeting with the hem of my tight, ridiculous red dress. The fabric clung to me like a second skin, and every time I moved, I felt like I was about to spill out of it. The makeshift stage in front of us was set up for the so-called "talent show," and the air was thick with nervous energy.
There were hundreds of people in the audience, most of them company employees—some of the interns, but a lot of higher-ups too. My stomach churned at the thought of all those eyes on me, watching, judging. Karen had really done it this time. She'd turned a normal work event into a circus.One by one, the other interns took their turns on stage. Some of the performances were actually pretty decent. The first guy, Ben, stood on stage in his silver dress, trying to crack jokes and make light of the situation with some stand-up comedy. To his credit, he got a few laughs. The crowd was in a decent mood, probably because they didn't have to wear what we were wearing."Y'know," Ben said, pausing for effect, "I always wondered what it'd be like to wear something this tight. Now I know I'm never gonna make it as a drag queen. Or a stripper."That earned a few more laughs, but his nervous energy was clear. He was uncomfortable, but he was playing it off well enough. When he finished, there was polite applause, and he walked off stage with a relieved look on his face.Next up was a girl named Brittney, who performed a song. She had a good voice, I'll give her that. But the whole thing felt weird, watching her belt out a pop tune in a tiny, sequined dress that she clearly didn't want to be wearing. The audience clapped politely, but it was obvious no one was paying attention to the talent—they were too busy gawking at the outfits.After Amanda came Jason. He was juggling. Actual fking juggling. He was in his blue dress, tossing three oranges in the air with shaky hands. I could tell he was nervous as hell. His face was flushed, his movements stiff, but he managed to pull it off without dropping anything. The applause was a little louder for him, probably because people were starting to get into the wackiness of the performances. Still, it felt hollow."Nice job, man," I muttered as Jason sat back down next to me, wiping the sweat off his forehead."Thanks," he said, his voice low. "I just want to GTFO of here."I nodded in agreement, my own nerves fraying with every second. We were all in this together, but it still felt like every man for himself. No one wanted to be the one who didn't stand out. No one wanted to be the one who flopped.Then it was Dave's turn. The guy who had been so eager to climb the corporate ladder. He strutted up to the stage in his neon-green dress, his confidence radiating like a beacon. He was grinning like he'd already won. The guy was too comfortable in his skin, too okay with this whole fucking nightmare of an event."Ladies and gentlemen," Dave announced, holding up a microphone like he was about to perform in a Vegas show. "Tonight, I'm going to give you a performance that'll blow your minds!"The crowd leaned forward in their seats, a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Dave was clearly about to put on a show.He launched into a full-blown dance routine, complete with spins, twirls, and dramatic poses. It was... impressive, I guess. He could actually dance, which only made me feel worse about what was coming next for me. But the whole time, his dress swished around him, barely covering anything, and the crowd loved it. People were cheering, laughing, and clapping along with the beat. It was like he was playing to the crowd's thirst for spectacle, and they were eating it up."Jesus," Jason muttered next to me, shaking his head. "The guy's really going for it, huh?""Yeah," I muttered, feeling my throat tighten as I watched Dave prance around the stage like he was auditioning for a Broadway show. "He's fucking loving this."By the time Dave finished, the applause was deafening. He took an exaggerated bow, flashing that stupid grin, like he'd already secured his spot in the company. I could see Karen off to the side, nodding with approval. That twisted smile of hers was back. She was enjoying this—watching us all jump through her hoops like trained animals.As Dave walked off stage, he strutted past us, glancing down with that same smug grin. "Top that, boys."Jason just rolled his eyes, but I could feel the tension rising in me. My stomach was in knots. My turn was coming up, and I wasn't sure how the hell I was supposed to follow that. I didn't have a dance routine. I didn't have some flashy act to wow the crowd. I was just trying to survive this, but now it felt like surviving wasn't enough. Not when people like Dave were putting on a full-blown performance and making the rest of us look like amateurs."Fk," I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair. "This is so messed up.""You'll be fine, man," Jason said, trying to sound reassuring, but I could hear the doubt in his voice. "Just get through it."I nodded, but I wasn't sure I believed him. The pressure was suffocating, and with every passing second, the weight of all those eyes in the audience pressed down on me. Hundreds of people were out there, watching, waiting to see what I'd do. The higher-ups were watching too, and Karen had made it clear that this was our shot to stand out. To prove we had what it took to make it in this company.But I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all wrong. That this wasn't about talent or standing out. This was about seeing how far they could push us, how much bullshit we were willing to put up with to get ahead.I glanced at the stage, watching as the next person got ready to perform. My time was coming soon, and I wasn't sure I was ready for what came next."Fk," I whispered again, staring at the floor, trying to calm my racing heart. There was no way out of this now.***My name was called, and I felt a wave of cold sweat break out on my forehead. Shit, here we go. My legs felt like they were made of lead as I stood up, adjusting the tight red dress that clung to my body like a fucking joke. I walked toward the stage, trying to ignore the hundreds of eyes watching me, judging me.The lights felt ten times brighter now that I was actually up there. The crowd looked like a blur of faces, but I could still hear the murmurs and snickers. My heart pounded in my chest like it was trying to break free, but there was no turning back now. I had chosen to sing Maroon 5's Sugar for some reason that seemed good at the time. Now, I wasn't so sure.I grabbed the mic, feeling the sweat in my palms, and took a deep breath. "Alright... let's do this."The instrumental started, and I immediately felt the tension ratchet up inside me. I cleared my throat and started singing, my voice a little shaky at first but manageable."I'm hurting, baby, I'm broken down.I need your loving, loving, I need it now..."
So far, so good. I kept my voice steady, trying not to focus on how ridiculous I felt standing there in this stupid dress, singing like this was some sort of normal performance."When I'm without you, I'm something weak.You got me begging, begging, I'm on my knees."
The crowd seemed quiet, some people watching intently, while others exchanged glances and smirked. I could see Karen in the front row, her arms crossed, watching me like a hawk. My nerves were getting the better of me, but I pushed through, trying to focus on the lyrics and not the hundreds of people in the audience."I don't wanna be needing your love.I just wanna be deep in your love.
And it's killing me when you're away."
Then, it happened. I hit a note wrong. Really fucking wrong. It came out sharp, way too high, and my voice cracked like I was going through puberty all over again. I immediately froze, the sound echoing in the mic for everyone to hear.The crowd burst into laughter.My face went bright red, and I could feel the heat creeping up from my neck to my ears. I stuttered, trying to pick up where I left off, but the laughter kept growing, rolling through the audience like a wave. My heart was racing, and I felt like I could fucking die right there on stage."Oh shit..." I muttered under my breath, gripping the mic harder, my hand trembling. I could barely hear myself over the sound of people laughing, and it felt like the world was closing in on me. Fk, fk, fk...I forced myself to keep going, though. I had to finish this. No matter how embarrassed I was, no matter how much I wanted to run off stage and never come back, I couldn't stop now."Ooh baby, 'cause I really don't care where you are,I just wanna be there where you are,
And I gotta get one little taste."
My voice steadied again, but the laughter hadn't completely died down. I could see people whispering to each other, some with grins plastered on their faces, others just shaking their heads. But I pushed through. I had to."Sugar, yes, please,Won't you come and put it down on me?"
The lyrics felt heavier now, like every word was drenched in humiliation. But I kept my voice strong, finishing the song as smoothly as I could, even though my throat felt tight, and my heart was pounding so hard it hurt."Right here, 'cause I needLittle love and little sympathy."
I was almost at the end now. I could feel the relief building, knowing I was about to get off this fucking stage."Yeah, you show me good loving, make it alright.Need a little sweetness in my life.
Sugar, yes, please,
Won't you come and put it down on me?"
I belted out the final note, making sure not to screw it up this time. The laughter had mostly faded, but the damage was done. I felt like every single pair of eyes in that room had seen me mess up, had seen me standing there, vulnerable, exposed.There was polite applause—nothing like what Dave got for his over-the-top dance routine. I could barely hear it over the sound of blood rushing in my ears, my heartbeat pounding against my ribcage. I didn't bother looking at the crowd again. I didn't need to see the looks on their faces.As soon as the last note faded, I turned and practically ran off the stage, my face still burning with embarrassment. I ducked behind the curtain, breathing hard like I'd just run a marathon. My hands were still shaking, and I could feel the sting of humiliation crawling over my skin."Fuck," I whispered to myself, leaning against the wall backstage. I felt like I was going to throw up.Jason was waiting for me just offstage. "You did fine, man," he said, trying to sound supportive, but the look in his eyes told me he knew what had happened. "That note was just one mistake. The rest was good.""Yeah, sure," I muttered, still catching my breath. "Tell that to the crowd."Jason shook his head. "They're assholes. Don't let it get to you."But it had gotten to me. The laughter, the stares, the way Karen had looked at me like I was some fking joke—it was all sitting heavy in my gut like a lead weight. I had just sung in front of the entire company in a tight dress, fucked up, and gotten laughed at for it. This was supposed to be my shot to stand out, to impress the higher-ups, and I'd blown it.As I stood there, trying to compose myself, I could still hear the crowd outside, the applause for the next performer echoing through the walls. My chance was over, and all I had left was the lingering sting of embarrassment.I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and forget this whole damn day ever happened. But I knew I couldn't. Not yet. Not with Karen watching.Q: Do you have stage fright?