I was just wondering if you were going to try out for the showdown." Emily said, 'Typical crush stuff, you know, no one was fooled but you."
I felt my cheeks flush up, the sort that felt warm and faithless. "Ethan barely knows I exist."
"You're wrong about that," she said, tapping her fingers on the table. "He is paying more attention than you think and, to top it off, once he hears you sing, game over."
The idea of Ethan actually listening made my stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with lunch. "Trying out, do you think it's worth it?"
Emily's reaction was immediate, firm. "Without a doubt. Music's your thing, Lily. "It's like you play, and you're speaking a language that most people can only dream of understanding."
I teased, "Sounds like you've the flair for words now," but the truth was her confidence in me was a finger in the dark, leading me on.
The rest of lunch passed discussing and exposing over stories, hurling laughter and feeling something whole and warm in silence. By the time the bell rang to gather us back into classes, some of the tension had slipped from my shoulders.
Emily had paused as we packed our things up, to place her hand over mine. 'Sometimes the biggest moments come when you're too scared to step back,' you know."
I scrunched my nose at her in mock disapproval, "Real poetic." "You been watching inspirational videos again?"
Emily winked, looping her arm through mine and we headed into the hallway chaos, students funneling to classrooms like streams finding their banks. "Perhaps I am just thinking about my best friend killing a song at the showdown."
I couldn't help but shake my head and laugh at myself. "Killer, huh?"
She smiled and there was certainty in her affirmation. Absolutely. "Chin up, shoulders back. You've got this."
I could still see that stage hovering in my mind: lights, faces, my voice becoming a lifeline. Every nerve shimmered, and something stronger was building under the layers of fear. The snap of belief, tinged with the possibility of it.
Caleb's mocking, even faint, echoed in my past, but in that moment, in the midst of bustling hallways I held onto Emily and Mr. Thompson's words. Their words were full of assurance, which my heart was only just starting to learn.
Emily nudged me with the same delight that always seemed to brim in her as we settled into our next class. Her eyes met mine and for the first time the thought of the Harmony Showdown wasn't a doom I was about to fall into—it was an adventure waiting for its first heartbeat.
The flicker of hope was somewhere between the reflections of our discussion with Mr. Thompson and the drifting conversations of the classroom. Winding it around the advice and I made my decision: I would walk up to that stage, not because it was easy, or because it was expected, but because, finally, I wanted to tell my story, and I didn't care who was listening.
* * * *
The rustling whispers of autumn leaves fell into the too cool breeze through the trees and my fingers tightened around the guitar strap slung over my shoulder. But it was a comforting weight, I find myself walking past the old oak tree at Harmony Grove to the wooden bench that we used to sit on. A smile was plastered on her face when she saw me coming. Mia was already there.
"Lily! She patted the space beside her, saying, 'I thought you'd never make it.'
I dropped onto the bench beside her, releasing a slow breath. "I had been in the music store, gotten lost between flipping through sheet music and forgot to check the time."
She pushed me with her shoulder. "You're obsessed. But I'm glad you came! I've been dying to know what's rattling in that head of yours," she said.
I ran my fingers along the grain of the wood beneath and hesitated. I looked at the ground, my words faltering, "You know... the Harmony Showdown thing."
Her eyes softened with warmth, and unwavering confidence. She turned to face me. Do you plan on auditioning? So, think of the opportunity to rise to the occasion. On the stage, it is perfect for you."
I said, my voice a whisper. "What if I mess up? What if I can't do it in front of everyone? The humiliation..."
Mia leaned closer. "Hey. Listen, Lils. Don't be worried. Something special is inside you. People deserve to hear it."
I was in doubt, but I looked her in the eyes. "The time last year at the spring recital, remember that?" Everyone was there. "My hands wouldn't stop shaking, I nearly fainted," I said.
"But you didn't. 'Mia reminded you had played that beautiful piece and without a flicker of worry had reminded everyone why music means so much to you,' 'you told ...' "They would ever forget the time you and your guitar ran circles around Caleb and his band!"
The memory softened my nerves. I laughed. "I meant when I accidentally unplugged his amp right?" She finished with a sly grin of her own.
A pause came between us, and I allowed it to settle on me, soaking up the comfort of her relentless support. "It's just... I still hear their voices. Alicia whispered, Caleb jeered. They're like they're squatting rent free in my head," I said.
Her eyes narrowed and resolve fluttered across her expression. Let them be, and they're louder." Play like Mr. Thompson always says, for you. Let their opinions be that background noise."
I protested, doubt returning to my voice, "Mia, it's not easy."
She grabbed my hand and countered, "Nothing worth it ever is." "My own insecurities haven't stopped me from wearing my style every day," she said. We all have battles, Lily. Facing us makes us who we are."
Her words swirled around like an old tango tune and made the discordant chords of fear smooth. "I mean maybe I'll just embarrass myself more."
'Try, you will never know,' her voice soothed. It's one performance that doesn't define you, but it can free you.
I fingered the smooth edges of the guitar pick between my fingers. "Sometimes aren't you afraid of looking foolish?"
She shrugged and tossed her curls at her shoulder. "Sure, but then I remember: clothes can be changed. How we see ourselves inside, how we feel? That's the real masterpiece."
"Maybe... maybe I'll write something for the competition," I continued, the thought coming to me gradually as if I finally opened up a bud too fragile to protect, "A song that's mine."
"There you go!" Mia grinned and I could see excitement poem her words. "It should be overwhelmed with everything you have experienced." It'll be amazing, like you."
Her faith held me, the hand of a gentle sort that showed through my strings the possibility of redemption. "I'll work on it, promise."
"Good. Remember you're never alone, Mia told. "I've got you, Mr. Thompson, and that oak tree as well."