by N. Kognytao
Because life is too precious to just let go
You may stumble, but you’ll win the war
Because you have wings and you were meant to soar
We are only given this one life
You feel as if struggle is your entire story
But darling, believe me, this is not the end
Because your triumph will be your legacy
When you get tired, just look beside you
This panicked rush of weightless anxiety
It’s flying, not falling
It’s victory, not malady
Take my hand, let’s leap together
Through this hurricane we will weather.
With the note of the last hook dying into the vastness beyond, Leah took a deep breath and released the microphone, trying to keep her nervous heartbeat from emanating through the speakers.
The two minutes that the judges’ panel was silent, jotting their notes down and sharing them with each other, felt like an eternity under the bright stage lights.
“Thank you very much, Ms. Dillon,” a female voice finally called. “Are you familiar with how our open auditions work? There are seven more people on the roster after you. Once we have completed all auditions, we will take an hour to discuss before choosing a selected few to sing for us again later today. The song will be of our choosing, but it will be a popular song from one of our resident artists and you will be given one hour to prepare before a second audition if you make the cut.”
“Okay, thank you. Thank you very much,” Leah said, feeling the tension slowly leave her body while a different type of anxiety overtook her nerves.
“Please wait in the lobby until the announcement of final cut has been made.”
“I will. Thank you again.”
Trying not to notice the shaking in her legs, Leah left the stage, taking the USB drive from the sound manager as she walked by, guided by one of the attendants.
Once she was in the lobby, she let out a shaking breath and sat down, pulling out her phone and staring at the clock, wondering how long she would have to wait to hear notes on how she had performed.
She dialed a number and lifted the phone to her ear.
“Hey! How did it go?” her mother’s excited voice asked.
“Don’t know, yet,” she admitted. “It will be over an hour before I know if I even made the first cut.”
“First cut?”
“Yeah, they’re going to bring some people back in for a second song later today. Then it will be final cut.”
“I guess that’s why the website says you have to take an entire day for the audition,” she mused. “That’s good, though. It’ll all be done and you won’t have to agonize over it.”
“I wish it was happening another day,” she admitted. “This waiting is going to be hell. I’m shaking I’m so nervous.”
“Is that Leah?” her father’s voice said in the background. “Did she make it?”
Leah had to listen to her mother explain the process to her father while she looked around the other performers in the lobby. She was not sure she could compete against so many performers that were likely far more talented.
With that attitude, you won’t make it.
She could not help but smile at the fact that the stranger she had met in the middle of the night in the park had imparted some good advice, like a cliché in a bad movie. She took a few deep breaths, smiling as she listened to her parents talk about the workings of the audition.
“Hey, is Meggie around?”
“She’s at soccer,” her mom answered. “Do you want her to call you when she’s done?”
“When will she be done?”
“Couple hours.”
Leah took a deep breath and hesitated.
“No. I’ll call her when I know for sure.”
Leah walked around the lobby of the Aurora Dome, studying the posters of the upcoming performances. The largest poster was for RM Entertainment’s leading male band, Glaring Nights, who would be starting a nationwide tour in the following month. The leader of the band, Hayden Carpenter, had a powerful voice that was always booming with heavy bass tones, which gave the band the feeling of a young rock group. Leah liked a few of their songs, but what she really admired about the band was their stage presence and their energy, which was evident in the videos of their performances.
Walking among the posters, she came across an older one from two years previous, framed with a plaque above it reading “Record for Ticket Sales—Sold-Out in 38 minutes.” The poster was for RM’s highest-earning artist—a singer under the stage name of 4U. 4U was famous around the globe for his incredibly versatile voice, his contagious energy, and his prowess and writing and producing hit songs one right after another.
He was Leah’s idol.
It was when 4U had been in the band 4Ever that Leah had become inspired to become a singer, herself. She loved listening to the catchy melodies supporting 4U’s powerful voice as the other three members of the band played their instruments and sang with the same energy as their vocalist. When 4Ever had disbanded amidst numerous scandals and bad press, Leah had felt as though she had lost a part of her drive to be a singer, sickened by the brutal comments about the band’s breakup.
But only three months later, 4U had produced a solo album that had destroyed music charts around the world. Only a month after his success, the keyboardist and co-producer of 4Ever, Timothy Gracie, became the new CEO of RM Entertainment. 4U’s solo album was the inspiration Leah had needed to write the song Soar for Meggie.
It seemed fitting that she was looking at the poster for 4U’s solo concert while waiting to hear about her audition. It felt like her idol was there, supporting her, encouraging her to continue on no matter the obstacles.
However, she still had to wait an hour and twenty-three minutes before hearing any news about the auditions.
“Everyone, if you could please quiet down,” a voice rang out through the lobby. Everyone auditioning had been so tense that they had already been silent when the attendant walked in with her clipboard, waiting to hear the decision from the judges. “I am going to call out your participant number if you made the first cut. If you do not hear your number, please be careful heading home and remember that there will be another open audition in six months’ time. The date of the next open audition will be announced the first of October.” She looked down at her clipboard, beginning to list off six-digit numbers.
Of the twelve numbers listed, Leah’s number was the last.
She could not hear the woman reminding the disappointed performers of the next open audition. Her hearing had gone dull upon recognizing her own number. She stood, frozen to her spot by the wall, wondering if she had heard correctly.
As others began filing out, the woman called the twelve who had made the first cut to her.
She walked slowly, her legs moving mechanically.
“Sorry, what was the last number?”
She looked at the nametag on Leah’s shirt.
“Yours,” she affirmed with a nod and a grin. “Everyone, congratulations on making the first cut. The judges are taking a short break and calling a few other producers and artists to sit in on the second round of auditions. After this round, it will be up to the judges if a third round is needed, though it generally is not.” She extracted a stack of paper at the back of the clipboard and passed them to the first person. “The song you will be singing is All Night by 4U. You all probably know this song, but here are the lyrics if you need help. You have one hour to practice. You are welcome to do your own rendition to the song, or you may perform it as written by 4U.”
“Excuse me,” one woman said. “Can we have the key changed for our voices?”
“Yes, you will have a studio keyboardist and guitarist on stage performing with you. You can tell them which key you prefer,” she answered. “Please do not leave the area of the Aurora Dome, and do not wander backstage, but feel free to go to different areas for practice. We will ca
ll you when it is your turn on stage.”
It took the twelve singers several long seconds once she left to move. Everyone seemed surprised to have made the first cut.
Leah’s first instinct was to call her sister and parents and tell them what had happened, but as she reached for her phone, she stopped. Looking over the lyrics of the song she already knew so well, she decided not to let her family know she had made the first cut. She needed to be in that moment and keep her attention focused. After all, she had performed a ballad, and All Night was a very fast, powerful song. It would be completely different than what the judges had seen her do before. She had to show them who she was and how versatile she was with her talent.
Therefore, she disappeared to a back corner, pulling out her headphones and finding the song. She listened to it several times on repeat, drinking in the beat. Then she began mouthing the words before going outside and practicing her pitch and tone, trying to decide if she could sing it in the original key. She had a deeper voice—something that she had been self-conscious about when she started singing—however, she also knew her deeper voice allowed her a larger vocal range. As she practiced, she began to feel more comfortable with it in the original key.
Much sooner than she anticipated, she was called in for the second round.
“Excuse me,” she asked the attendant as she struggled to put her phone and headphones back in her pocket, glancing around the empty Aurora Dome lobby. “Where are the others?”
“Oh, if they decide to cut you, they tell you once you finish this round. Everyone else should receive a call in a day once they deliberate and look over the tape. The others left already.”
“I’m the last one?”
“Yep,” she said, smiling. She opened the door and led Leah backstage once more. “Break a leg.”
She winked as Leah stepped onto the stage for the second time that day. There was murmuring from the area of the judges that caused Leah to hesitate. She noticed that the number of figures in the seats was three times the amount it had been before, and the bright light of a tablet screen told her someone was even watching remotely.
Leah cast a nervous glance at the keyboardist and guitarist also on stage. The middle-aged keyboardist was looking down at the music, scratching his face as he thought over something. The man at the guitar was the same age as Leah, and had long brown hair pulled back into a loose pony tail, his eyes roaming about the stage as he absentmindedly plucked at the strings of the guitar.
When the guitarist saw Leah, he stopped, his eyes going wide.
“Leah?”
“Aaron?” Leah gasped, shocked to see her high school friend on stage. “Oh my God!” She ran forward as Aaron moved the guitar behind him and hugged Leah briefly. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m the studio guitarist today,” Aaron said with a broad smile. He clasped Leah’s shoulders, shaking his head. “I thought you said you were going to stop singing after Meggie got sick.”
“I did, but she’s doing much better. She’s been in remission for two years now. So, here I am.”
“That’s amazing,” Aaron said, his eyes still wide in disbelief. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I had no idea that you were at RM.”
“This is my second year as a studio artist. But you know I was a trainee since middle school,” he chuckled. “This is great. I can’t believe it. Hey, meet me in the lobby after this. We should catch up. It’s been ages.”
“Aaron?” a voice called from the judge’s area. Leah immediately was horrified that she had ignored the judges, but Aaron did not seem worried.
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you acquainted with Ms. Dillon?”
“We went to high school together for the first two years,” Aaron answered. “We were good friends. But we both got busy with other things. I haven’t seen her in a couple years.”
“It is a small world,” the man said. He leaned forward, though Leah could not make his face out from that distance and the bright lights in her face. “Well, Ms. Dillon, having a friend as a back-up musician should make you a little more comfortable.”
“Not really, actually,” Leah laughed lightly. “We used to practice together in school. I’m worried he’s gotten a lot better than I have. I’ve gotta make sure I still show him up a little,” she teased. Aaron made a face at his old friend, pulling the guitar around again as the judges chuckled.
“Okay, Ms. Dillon you are the last of the open singing auditions. We may take up to a day to decide whether to sign you as a trainee or an artist, but if you make that cut, you will be called with our decision. You will be singing All Night by 4U. Are there any variations in key that you need to sing this song?”
“No, sir. The original key is fine.”
“Do you wish to sing an acoustic version?”
Leah smiled. “No, sir. I will sing it as it was originally written.”
“As you know, 4U is famous for his energy. You think you can match his presence?”
Leah pursed her lips. “As a big fan of 4U, I don’t think that anyone can match his presence. But I would like to show you my own energy and presence through this song in hopes that I can show you how 4U’s work has inspired me to find my own voice.”
As the judges looked at one another with small smiles and raised eyebrows, Leah glanced back at Aaron, who gave her a subtle thumbs-up.
“Very well said, Ms. Dillon,” the man agreed. “Whenever you are ready.”
Leah took a deep breath and glanced back at the keyboardist and guitarist, nodding once.
The song started slow, building carefully in bass as Leah sang the first refrain. She kept her eyes open, staring into the empty seats, wondering what it looked like to have every seat filled in front of her. She felt the energy coursing through her at the familiar words and beat, the melody running up and down her spine, causing her hair to rise on end and her heart to thunder.
When the first chorus came, Leah let herself move as if she was practicing the song in her living room, imitating moves by 4U but also adding her own actions as she grabbed onto the microphone stand and let her voice carry through the Aurora Dome through the heavy, pulsing song.
She became swept up in her own performance. Complex emotions ran through her as she watched Aaron perform the guitar solo in the hook, remembering times when they would perform together in their school auditorium or in the back room of Aaron’s father’s house. The world around her melted away and there was nothing but the music fueling pure joy and excitement. Aaron also smiled, moving closer to Leah as they both moved to the melody, performing naturally together.
Leah finished the song and the last note died away into the vastness of the Dome. It was only when Leah recognized the sound of her labored breathing that she realized where she was and looked among the judges. She could see some of them leaning over to talk to one another, others were writing in their notebooks. She then noticed that they all went very silent and still.
What she could not see was the man in the middle of the front row pick up his phone when it lit up with a text message. He looked it over and a small smile crossed his lips.
That one.
He turned the phone to the man next to him with a knowing smile. The thinner man to his right read the message before looking at him expectantly. Slowly, he nodded once.
“Ms. Dillon,” a woman addressed her, “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we all felt your energy in that song.”
Leah’s face broke into a broad smile. “Thank you.”
“Well, we have quite a bit to discuss,” she said, looking among the other judges, winking at the man in the middle. “Ms. Dillon, we will call you with our decision by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you so much. I greatly appreciate it.”
She looked among the judges once more as she backed away to the wings, glancing at Aaron who nodded to her and held up a finger, reminding her to wait in the lobby.
However, Leah could no
t wait in the lobby. She left the front doors and leapt into the air with a triumphant shout, not sure why she felt so much like celebrating since the final decision had not yet been made. Her broad smile beaming, she lifted her hands to her head, tangling her fingers in her light brown hair, reveling in the surreal feeling. There was no one else around to question her elation or celebrate with her, but she did not care. She was flying high.
Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and called her family, telling them that she had made the final cut and she would know within a day if RM Entertainment planned to sign her on the label. Meggie, her younger sister, was the most excited, but even her parents declared that, no matter the outcome, they would celebrate with dinner the following night at one of the most expensive restaurants in town—Griffin’s Point.
She hung up the phone when Aaron walked out of the Aurora Dome to greet her, his guitar case in his hand and a huge grin on his face.
“Well,” he started, shaking his head and sighing, “I guess we’re gonna have to get used to hanging out again.”
“What?”
“You’re going to be signed on as an artist.”
“You heard them say that?!”
“They told me to tell you,” the guitarist. “You completely blew them away, and there were some big names in the company watching. Like, really big names.”
“Really?”
“Even Mr. Gracie was impressed.”
At the name, Leah’s jaw dropped. “Mr. Gracie? As in the CEO? The former keyboardist for 4Ever?”
“One and the same.”
Leah had no choice but to fall into a crouch, her head spinning as the reality crashed over her. Aaron laughed and crouched next to her.
“Like you ever doubted your talent,” he teased.
Leah was too stunned to come up with a clever response to her high school friend. She shook her head, barely able to keep herself from laughing hysterically, not sure how else to respond.
“Come on,” Aaron chuckled, taking her hand and pulling her upright. “I gotta get my helmet from the main building. Walk with me. We’ll catch up.”
In a way, Leah was grateful for the distraction. The sudden realization that her childhood dreams had come to fruition—at least in part—was too much for her to handle at once. Aaron led her to one of the company vans around the side of the Aurora Dome where he greeted the driver and told him who Leah was. The driver let her in once he checked her ID to be sure she was who Aaron claimed.