-August’s Point of View-
I’m still not sure what happened that night. It was so unexpected. But most of the bigger things in life are, right?
Unexpected that is. Sometimes what you think you need is different from what you actually do need.
It was Saturday night. The middle of June. I was in Orlando, Florida with my best friend. I month had been hectic. College graduation.
I remember graduating from high school and having a sense of nervousness about ‘what happens next?’
Well, at least after high school there’s college. Translation? Four more years to think about what you want to do with your life. Four more years to procrastinate.
I can’t believe I thought I was lost after high school. Because that was nothing compared to what I was feeling now.
“Yo, August? Hello?” I noticed a hand waving in front of my face.
“What? Sorry,” I said.
“What’s been up with you lately? I brought you to Florida to have some fun for the summer. Not to stare into space!” my best friend, Carmen, stated, matter-of-factly.
“Well, I’d probably be in a much better mood if we were back at the house.”
“August, it’s Saturday night. Are you telling me you’d rather be at home reading or something than out seeing the nightlight of the city?”
I smiled. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. I’m glad we understand each other. Can I go now?”
“No. Let’s go to a club or something.”
“Bad ghetto music making my insides shake, off-beat people bumping and grinding, guys named Buff checking ID’s at the door, and alcoholics sitting at the bar to get away from their family and children. Not to mention enough cigarette smoke to ensure that I get lung cancer before I turn twenty-five...”
“So is that a no?” she interrupted my rambling.
“Wow, I didn’t know you had physic ability,” I said, sarcastically.
“Fine. We’ll compromise... but you’re not sitting at home. How about there?”
We continued to walk the busy streets of Orlando. “A coffee house?”
“Yeah. I could use some mocha. And look, they have open mike night. We could see if anyone is any good. And you’re into that, right? You’ve got a thing for guitar players and everything.”
If I could pen point the moment in which my life changed, I would probably choose that moment. It’s always the smallest decisions that can have lasting effects.
“All right,” I agreed. “Its better than listening to J-Lo screech.”
We walked in. It was actually a pretty big place. Bigger than coffee places where I came from. Of course, in my birthtown, the “downtown” area was only a few streets big. So maybe I wasn’t the best judge for this.
There were small, round tables, with people sitting in high chairs sipping their drink of choice. There was a spiral staircase and a small area upstairs, still open to see the stage.
“I gotta admit, this place isn’t too bad,” I approved.
“I know,” Carmen gracefully walked up to the counter. “Mocha, please.”
“Coming right up, babe,” the cashier, probably only two or three years older than us, smiled, openly flirting with her.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, as he lost track of everyone else in the world. “Can I have tea, please?”
“Yeah,” he said, not totally hearing me.
Such is the story of being best friends with someone like Carmen. She looked like the femme fatale type. I was the side-kick. But being able to disappear wasn’t always bad.
Well, except when you were trying to get an order placed.
We sat down a table away the stage. The lights were lowered just a bit so the stage stood out. A girl stood up there and started to sing some song a capella. She tried to do Christina Aguilara techniques with her voice, but she didn’t pull it off too badly.
I felt bad for her. It was one thing to not be able to sing. It was another thing entirely to not have the talent and not realize it.
Some people are meant to be entertainers. Others are not.
I looked at the stage. A guitar and a piano were in the background. I wondered if anyone would use them.
My question was answered with the next person. When someone from the coffee house walked up there and asked who wanted to go next, he volunteered himself and grabbed the guitar.
He introduced himself and sang a song that he had written.
“He’s not bad,” I whispered to Carmen. “Decent songwriter, too.”
“Nice arms,” Carmen commented in response.
I rolled my eyes. “Way to watch from a musical perspective.
I finished my tea. Another two people went, although not consecutively. The employee did some salesmen techniques to try and keep the show going. But it was getting late, and the rest of the crowd seemed to be just an audience.
“Would anyone else like to come up here? Have a few minutes of fame?” the man urged. The audience stayed silent.
“You should go up there,” Carmen whispered.
“Or I could not go up there.”
“What? You play. Just go perform something. It doesn’t even have to be an original song or anything.”
“And make a fool outta myself? There’s no way in the world. I’m not good enough to go up there.”
“You’re better than half the other people we’ve seen....” I was about to ignore her, since she was ignoring my protests. But before I knew it, she was raising her hand. “My friend here woud like to play piano for everybody.”
I was afraid I was going to have a heart attack. All I knew was that my face went red and breathing became a hard chore.
“Great, come on up,” he motioned towards the stage.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I said, sincerely.
“Aww... a little shy? Come on who wants to hear...” he trailed off.
“August,” Carmen said, “helpfully.”
“...August play something for us?”
People clapped, wanting more performances to enjoy or laugh at. Which one would I fall into?
Although my legs felt like lead, I managed to stand up. The walk to the stage seemed to take hours, as though I was going thousand’s of miles, as my heart beat faster and faster.
I sat down at the piano, and looked at it for a second. I took in the size of the keyboard and what I was going to play.
I finally decided on something that sounded intricate, but was actually relatively easy to play. A crowd pleaser and a song I liked. As long as I kept the tempo and my fingers didn’t freeze, it wouldn’t go too badly. And it seemed fitting with my meander to the spotlight.
I started playing the intro and tried to ignore the audience. ‘Just concentrate on the music,’ I told myself.
I could hear a murmur of recognition in the audience as I played the introduction.
I repeated the chorus once more, cutting the song a little shorter than normal.
When I finished, the crowd clapped. I managed to smile, glad that was over and slightly enjoying the attention. Even so, I quickly exited the stage.
This time when he went up there and tried to persuade someone else, there were no other people who volunteered. Or should I say no more people that were volunteered.
“That was awesome! Good job! You were the best one up there!”
“I went a little too fast.”
“You always go to fast. You’re even talking a mile a minute,” she laughed.
“Yeah, well... wanna get me another drink?” I asked, my head buzzing.
“Ya know, you’re acting mad at me. But I know that some part of you loved that. Don’t even try to deny it.”
I sent her a look. But she knew, and she knew that I knew, that she was right.
“Water please,” I reminded her.
“Normally I would tell you to not be lazy, but I guess I owe you.”
“You owe me enough water to fill the Nile River!” I laughed and she went to buy be a bottle.
Someone else took her seat.
“Someone’s sitting there,” I said, looking up.
Dark hair, tall, muscular, with blue eyes and think eyebrows. There was no mistaking who he was.
He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll move when she gets back. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Kevin Richardson.”
Chapter Two
Dreaming of Destiny
Frick's Fairytales