Tushar Srivastav
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Chapter 5 – First Stage Fright
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 13:30:01 +0000 UTCThe announcement came on a Tuesday morning during math class.
Mrs Lambert clapped her hands and smiled widely.
"Okay, everyone—quiet down! We have some exciting news!"
The class fell into hushed murmurs. Ayaan looked up from his workbook.
"This Friday, we're holding our Spring Talent Showcase. Anyone who wants to perform—music, jokes, magic, whatever—sign up by Wednesday. Parents will be invited."
She passed around a clipboard.
Ayaan felt Zoey nudge his elbow.
"You're doing it, right?"
"I don't know."
"Come on," she grinned. "You sing like someone's paying you."
That sentence made something flicker inside him. Not joy. Not fear. Something between the two.
In his old life, performance was always a transaction—something to earn approval, attention, and the right to stay in the room. This felt… different. He thought of the nights rehearsing Amnesia and his father's hesitant guitar chords. The quiet clapping after.
Maybe this time, the stage could be about truth, not applause.
He signed his name.
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By Wednesday night, the living room was a rehearsal space. Rishi had moved the coffee table and strung up soft lights. Ayaan stood in the middle, holding a toy microphone Zoey had lent him for luck.
"Ready?" Rishi asked.
Ayaan nodded. He began singing—a new original piece, short, raw, unfinished but honest. His voice wavered in the beginning, but by the third line, it filled the room.
Rishi strummed quietly, nodding with each verse. When the song ended, he didn't speak right away—just smiled.
"That was brave," he said.
Ayaan looked down. "What if I freeze? What if they laugh?"
Rishi set the guitar aside and came over.
"If they do, it doesn't mean the song wasn't true. It just means they weren't ready to hear it."
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The next day at school, Brian, a brash boy with gelled hair and a permanent smirk, cornered Ayaan near the lockers.
"So, new kid's gonna sing at the talent show?" he sneered.
"It's not a big deal," Ayaan muttered.
"You think just 'cause your mommy ditched you, we gotta clap for you now?"
Ayaan froze.
The hallway spun. Brian's voice blurred. The words hit like fists—but not because of what they said.
It was the exact kind of line he'd heard from casting directors in Mumbai.
Back then, it wasn't schoolboys—it was producers who'd said:
"This isn't a charity, Raghav. We don't hire strays."
Suddenly, Ayaan wasn't in the hallway. He was back in that stale waiting room in Andheri, clutching his headshot, hearing them laugh behind the half-closed door.
His chest tightened. He wanted to punch something. Or run.
But he did neither.
Zoey's voice snapped him back:
"Back off, Brian. Go gel your ego."
Brian glared but walked away.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," he lied. "Old memories."
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Friday evening arrived.
The school auditorium was buzzing with parents, teachers, and students. Folding chairs creaked under the weight of anticipation. The stage lights seemed larger than they actually were. A curtain of navy blue hung heavy behind them.
Ayaan waited behind the curtain, heart pounding. His palms were slick.
He looked down at the microphone in his hand—real this time. No toy. His name was next.
"You don't have to be perfect," Rishi had told him before the show.
"You just have to be honest."
Mrs Lambert stepped onto the stage and announced:
"Next up, please welcome Ayaan Malhotra—performing an original song."
Applause. Soft. Curious.
He stepped out.
The light was blinding. The silence was terrifying.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let the words come—not from memory, but from somewhere quieter. Deeper.
He sang about missing someone who left before you understood why. About pretending you were fine about dreaming of being someone else.
🎵 "Not Even Goodbye" (Chat GPT generated no idea how to write a song )
(Original lyrics by Ayaan Malhotra)
[Verse 1]
I made a cup of tea for two
Then I remembered it's just me now
Left the light on in the hall
For someone won't be coming down
Your laughter still haunts the tiles
And your perfume''s in the sheets
They say love is something strong
But yours walked out on tiny feet
[Chorus]
You left with silence in your eyes
No spam, no shout, not even goodbye
Like a song that ends before the rhyme
You left a space that can't fill in time
And I still sing for you sometimes
Even if you never hear the lines
[Verse 2]
I drew our family in crayon blue
But every time, I forget your shoes
Did you take them off to run away
Or were they never meant to stay?
Dad says people fall apart
Butdon'tn’t know where the pieces go
So I turn the sadness into song. It's the only way I know
[Chorus]
You left with silence in your eyes
No spam, no shout, not even goodbye
Like a song that ends before the rhyme
You left a space that can't fill in time
And I still sing for you sometimes
Even if you never hear the lines
[Bridge]
If you ever come back, wear the red scarf
The one you wore that day in the park I'll leave the porch light on till dawn.
Even you’re already gone
[Final Chorus]
You left with silence in your eyes
No wave, no note, not even goodbye
I've grown strong on lullabies
From a voice that only lives inside
And I still sing for you sometimes
Even if you never hear the lines
[Outro]
Yeah, I still sing for you sometimes
Even if you never
Never hear the lines
As he sang, the room shifted.
There was no spotlight in his mind anymore.
There was only stillness.
Aftermath
The applause was soft at first. Then louder. A few people stood.
He saw Zoey beaming in the second row, holding up her notebook. He saw Rishi standing by the door—eyes red, hands in his pockets, but smiling.
Ayaan bowed.
Backstage, Brian passed by and muttered, “Whatever. It wasn’t that good.”
A teacher nearby said, “Brian, don’t be bitter. That was real.”
Ayaan didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.
He had sung the truth. And someone, somewhere, had heard it.
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