Anything
Toby Jeffs
I would do anything to go back.
It’s the only memory that isn’t affected by fog. As time marches by and kicks my head in on the way through, some events become fragmented or lost. But this one could never be tarnished. There’s no comparative feeling to when you’re about to head out on a stage. There’s anxiety bubbling away; it feels like you’re boiling water in your gut. Physically, you feel like you’re going to vomit. You may have been practising for this very moment, but to run away now might be the most viable option. Despite all those feelings circulating through me, this was not a moment I wanted to run away from. I had been waiting for this day for a long time. We both had.
We were about to be called onto stage. The host of the showcase was letting loose a few witty quips to energise the crowd. Maria squeezed my hand so tight that it forced my whole body to clench. Her skin was sparkling due to the sweat and the glittery eye shadow she had chosen. All five of my senses began to blur as my breathing intensified. Everything flooded back once I heard our names. The applause was like a lighter to my synapses. Maria was also standing to attention; my hand was still not loose from her grasp. Suddenly, we were ready.
We strolled onto stage and smiled meekly. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. As I took my seat at the piano, Maria played with the microphone to get it to her level. Then came the silence. The anticipation was simmering in the air. I could almost taste it. Once we were both ready, we did our nod. The nod that tells each other of the thousand anxieties that are running through our minds, yet through all of that, we are ready. Ready, we were. Once you start to perform, it’s like a muscle. The audience evaporated, and Maria and I floated into the clouds. Our music was gathering underneath us and carrying us through the sky. We flew through strong winds as we hit sharp notes, and the storm clouds telling us we would fall flat evaporated, which left free us to swim through a cloudless view. It was our connection, our bond, that held us up. We had no fear of falling because we trusted each other to hit every note when we needed the other to. It became as effortless as breathing. As we reached the end, we landed gently back onto the stage as Maria squeezed out the last of her song. Then. Silence.
The silence was our chance to reacquaint ourselves with the world, just in time for the applause to erupt. We were back, and everyone was glad to see our journey. It was everything we could have ever dreamed of. That was three years ago today. I haven’t felt a rush like that since. When Maria moved away, I just couldn’t find that same joy in playing the piano like I used to. But that moment of joy, of bliss, of elation—it cannot be my last. In my darkened room that reeks of gin, I twist, turn, and heave my head up to an upright position. In my mind, rotted by sadness, a thousand anxieties about trying to find that spark again start to swirl. I would do anything to go back.
22
22
