Songbird by Jamie Campbell Page A

people out there. Amen.”
    “Amen,” they repeated. Asking for a bit of heavenly help seemed appropriate for our opening night. We would need any help we could get.
    As we waited and counted down the minutes, I couldn’t help but notice Forest standing with his guitar poised. He was purposely not looking at me. That wasn’t how I wanted my tour to go. I caved, tapping him on the shoulder.
    “Forest, can we talk for a second?” I asked, keeping my voice to just a whisper.
    “It’s fine, Brierly, don’t worry about it,” he replied tersely. His words might have said one thing but every inch of his tone and body told me another.
    The lights in the auditorium dimmed, ending any conversation we should have had. It was show time.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    B eing on stage again was amazing. The moment I stepped out, it was like the past year had never happened. Nothing could energize my spirit like performing. I felt alive, happy, and invincible. While I was singing, I felt for sure that was where I belonged.
    It was only during the quick change or in the silent moments between songs did the doubts start creeping in. I had to push them away or they would consume me. The crowd were my battery, energizing and encouraging me to continue. They were awesome, way more than I deserved.
    Halfway through the set, m y earpiece suddenly made an earsplitting screech. For a moment, I forgot my lyrics, needing to pull the damn thing out of my ear before I went deaf. I winced with the pain, trying to hear again over the audience’s screaming.
    I only missed a line but it was enough to completely throw me. I tried to continue, straining to listen to the band to find my place again. It was just so difficult to hear them over the audience and with my ear still reeling from the noise.
    I turned around, trying to get some guidance. I felt like a fool, probably looked like one too as I stood in the middle of the stage desperately.
    I glanced at the sound controllers, waving my hand slightly and letting them know I was having trouble. They understood my cue, instantly scrambling to fix my earpiece. I would have to do without it until the next quick change or everyone would know something was wrong.
    Doing a few little dance moves, I tried to pretend I was just really into the song. The audience wouldn’t buy it for too long before they knew I wasn’t singing for a reason. I could already see the scathing tweets about my terrible performance.
    I looked back again, trying desperately to get help from somewhere. Forest started mouthing the words to the song as he strummed, looking at me pointedly. I followed along. I knew the song, I just couldn’t hear where they were up to with the music. Everything else was just so loud.
    If I was reading his lips correctly, they had just started the chorus. It was now or never. I put the microphone back up to my lips and started belting out the chorus. The crowd screamed, hopefully in a good way.
    I picked up my cue and slotted back into the routine. I finished when the band did – thankfully. I walked back to the stage, getting closer to the band so I could hear them better. Ryan woul d be having a heart attack backstage.
    We continued on for another three songs that way. I could only pray that I was staying in time with the music. The audience were louder than ever before, I was sure of it. They screamed at every movement I made, every big note, and every time I looked to their section.
    At quick change time, my earpiece was replaced with another and quickly tested. It made the change not so fast but at least I would be able to hear again.
    “Good work, Brierly,” Ryan said as I passed him. He patted me on the back, perhaps I wasn’t doing such a terrible job as I had thought. I took a few deep breaths as I waited for the stage lights to come up again.
    It would have been nice to think that was the only hiccup in the entire show , but it wasn’t. After the earpiece