Stretched shadows and bold colors painted its sky, Twilight hues painted the sky of Harmony Grove. I sat down on the cool grass, guitar on my lap. Its gentle weight whispered reassurance, though my thoughts did not whisper calm.
"I've seen it a thousand times, when you look lost in thought." Although expected, Emily's presence always shocked me.
I fingered the strings idly and responded, "I guess I am, a little." One note after another rang out, like a question I hadn't answered.
"Everything okay? "Since the last time we talked, you've been kind of...quiet."
I looked at the horizon before I looked at her. "Have you ever felt that the world was spinning too quickly than you could handle?"
Almost drowned in the crisp rustle of the grass was Emily's sigh, as she dropped onto the grass beside me. "Yeah, all the time. But I don't let it stop me. Not usually."
I murmured, my voice barely above the rustle of the leaves, "it's not that simple." "The big thing I want is the Harmony Showdown, but every time I think about actually doing it, I get nervous."
She believed, unfailingly, that it was a chance to prove to everyone just what you were made of.
I shook my head slowly. Or a chance to mess up publicly. There's always that."
"You haven't ever failed at anything until you let fear make your decision for you." They were words firm, a bind to keep me on the ground.
How could I describe this storm within, this thought of standing in those lights, the audience a sea of eyes, waiting, judging? Just imagining it caused my pulse to quicken.
"Maybe you're not," Emily said, "but I don't care. But what if you are?"
I could feel the staleness of her reply take root in my chest, minding its own business, refusing to be freed. I began tracing the frets of my guitar wishing for solace.
She continued, "Mr. Thompson seems to think that you're ready."
I said, "Mr. Thompson sees something in me that may not even exist."
"No, he sees what everyone else someday will," she corrected. You just need to believe it."
"Easier said than done." I spoke.
"That may be true, but let me ask you this: What's the worst that could happen?"
"The worst?" Hands still on the strings, I stopped. They would see me for what I am, everyone would. "A scared girl pretending to be something more she's not. And the best?"
I hesitated, "Maybe, just maybe, I'd prove myself wrong."
"Exactly." She relaxed her voice, "Don't let others categorize you."
"They always do, my limp, the bullies."
"Let this be something different then." October twentieth: Lily Bennett redefines herself. You know, you owe it to yourself."
Emily's firm belief pushed me a little further out of myself doubt. But I was still insecure, a shadow that would not release me. "Suppose I come and crash? What if my voice betrays me?"
You pick yourself up and try again." Lily," she rumbled. 'Life is all about the music of second chances.'
I looked up, but the stubborn horizon still wouldn't give me answers. The world seemed to be waiting on a decision I had to make alone. "Second chances, I like that," I say.
She stood up, brushing grass off her jeans. "Thanks, I do too."
I just blurted out, 'I don't want to be afraid.' It was a confession.
She offered her hand. "Then don't be. Take your stage back from your fears."
It was the kind of silence that unfurled between us. Silence that comes from friendship, not judgment. "I'll think about it. That's a start."
Emily's smile was warm like the light of the sun shining through a stubborn cloud. "That's all I'm asking for."
The park hummed softly, filling the spaces between the conversations, and the spaces between thought and decision. I could sense it in the air; gentle changes waiting to come into completion. "Remember, you're not the only one in this. I'll be as close to the front row as I can get and cheering my lungs out."
"Thanks." The gratitude welled up, but I didn't know how to express it.
The quiet was cut through by the sound of approaching footsteps before she could respond. From the park's shadowed edges came a figure.
Mr. Thompson tapping rhythmically against the path, we were joined by Thompson, a smile upon his face. "Evening, you two. What's the discussion under the stars?
"Lily was just talking about the Harmony Showdown," turning her smile conspiratorial toward him, Emily said.
Mr. Thompson sat down on a nearby bench: "Ah, the big decision." You know, Lily, the joy of music has nothing to do with the notes you play, but with the life you breathe into them.
I nodded. My resolve felt thin.
"Why can't you think of the showdown without feeling inside like your insides are tied in knots?" Mr. Thompson had a keen, perceptive, gaze.
"I said because it feels like diving into an ocean without knowing if I can swim. Words tumbling out in a disjointed rush."
"Yeah, but you just already have a lifeboat," he said. "Your music itself. The rest," he continues, "comes down to paddling along and relying on your rhythm."
"But stakes are high."
For anything worthwhile, they are. Risks are not a test of your strength, but your heart. Isn't it all about finding? He pointed out that that was 'finding out just what you're made of,' a gentle nudge rather than a push.
Silence was more supportive now than words, Emily watched me. She tried to lighten the mood, "You know, Mr. Thompson, you could have a knack for inspiring mentor thing."
"I have some years and many stories up my sleeve, young miss," he said. His wink was playful, but his eyes went back to me, waiting for a response.
I breathed steady, searching for the courage I didn't know how to find. "I want to believe you both. I really do. Wanting is not the same as doing. Miles apart."
Emily countered, "They aren't as far apart as you think."
"I don't know, what should I play for the audition?" I asked both of them, seeing their reactions.
Emily answered without missing a beat, "Your own song."
"Your truth, something that carries your truth," Mr. Thompson nodded.
"I'm still writing it," I conceded, the unspeaking business still hovering between us.
He murmured, resolving, acceptance in his words. "Complete your song, Lily. Let it take you to wherever you need to be."
I sighed, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. "Alright, alright." "I'll have to do some soul searching."
Come on you dime and bring to life with your guitar." Lily, this isn't perfection, its connection. That's where music lives."
A notch of clarity peeked through the gaps of my hesitation; the veil lifted. I promised myself, or I think I promised them, 'I'll finish it.'"
Her smile was fierce with approval. "We'll be here, every step of the way," they said.
With the steady grace of a musician only, Mr. Thompson stood, leaning on his cane. Emily's faith is something that is pretty rare." You will hold onto it, like your confidence."
I nodded, and watched him begin to stroll back, not hurrying to leave me and Emily in the park's embrace. The night was comforting; it hummed with possibilities, the winds seemed to lull more than trees, whispering prods of dreams untraveled. Maybe they were already singing their soft lullaby; the silent promises of what could be.
"Think you'll sleep tonight?" I felt the churning within me, and Emily asked.
I laughed, my tension dissipating by degrees, "I doubt it."
I know you're going to rock it, regardless of sleep, though, well." 'Believe in yourself as we believe in you.'"
Above us was the sky, now a blanket of scattered stars, and generations of witness to our growing resolve. I found myself whispering a vow to their persistent twinkle: finish the song. I would like them to tell my journey through their chords and verses—a melody of courage, fear and self-discovery. The Harmony Showdown gave me a stage, but the music sough promises to me from a distance.
I affirmed, the decision crystallized. "The showdown it is."
A declaration of support broke the night's stillness from Emily's cheer.