Dreams

Knowing what to expect would have made everything so much simpler. But the future, you never truly grasp until it's in the rearview. You can predict, calculate, hope—I did all that for years. Since I first opened my eyes, I had dreamed of this moment. It was always drilled into me that this was my destiny. I envisioned that spotlight moment down to the last detail, every year, month, week, day leading up to my time to shine.

Source

"You have such a beautiful voice!"

"Thank you! My mom thinks so too!"

"She's right. You're going to be a star one day, maybe perform in front of thousands. Don't waste that talent."

"Really?"

"Absolutely!"

"Someday I'll perform, you'll all see!"

Born into a family rich in talent but lacking in recognition, I was supposed to be the one. The one to shine brightly, to never be overlooked like my parents, cousins, siblings. I was given the chance.

I didn't just want to sing. I wanted to perform at the grand stadium, to be the centerpiece of the most historic game. I dreamed big and trained harder. Every day started at 5:30 am and ended at 10 pm sharp. I strived to be the perfect candidate, training my voice, body, and mindset. I excelled in school and put in extra hours at the studio. I was kind, attractive, intelligent. I was as perfect as required. No, I was perfect, through and through.

"Don't you ever take a break?"

"I don't have time."

"You look exhausted."

"I'm fine."

It was relentless and utterly dreadful, yet somehow it became routine. It became habitual to assist those around me, to constantly push myself to improve. It became routine to fall asleep precisely on time, to notice every imperfection.

But amidst it all, I never forgot why I persevered. I was always told that true performance requires authenticity, a version of yourself that everyone can love, sometimes with a little assistance. To earn my long-awaited moment, the one I had dreamed of, I felt I needed to mold myself into something almost like me.

"Look at you! It's been ages since I've seen you! My, how you've grown."

"I suppose so."

"Well, you're quite lovely now. You were quite the handful as a child."

"Now I'm better."

When that letter arrived, inviting me into the spotlight after 23 long years, I knew my time had come. The days leading up to it were agonizing. I wished for time to move faster, and finally, the day arrived.

"Hurry up! We're going to be late!"

"My dear, relax. We have seven hours before we need to be there."

"I know. I've just... I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

"I know, but it's not going anywhere. Relax."

Entering the arena, the noise was deafening. The stage seemed enormous, threatening to swallow me whole.

"Remember how hard we worked for this moment."

"We? Yeah, I suppose."

"Absolutely! We're a team."

I suppose we were, though it often felt like I was alone.

"This is your dream. I've simply supported you."

When does it start?

"We've worked so hard. You must savor this moment. This is your moment. You've planned every second of your life up to this point!"

But what comes next?

"We'll celebrate. Let's have dinner later, your favorite! Sushi!"

I'm allergic to fish. "Sure."

As I stepped onto the stage, it felt like I was surrounded by static, the chilling kind you'd expect from a horror film. It was silent yet overwhelming. The stage stairs were crumbling, a loose board. How safe. The spotlight was blindingly bright. Was it supposed to be that intense?

Everything's fine. This is my dream.

I worked hard for this. I earned this. I deserve this. I want this.

I wanted this!

I wanted this.

I wanted...

Did I truly want this?

I could see everyone but couldn't focus on anyone clearly. The microphone was too high, my shirt too tight. My shoes squeaked. I want... I want this moment to be over.