The fair blinded Youngvia. Street vendors crowded the black pavement. Advertisers scurried around the crowds waving little pamphlets and business cards. It was all so exhilarating for the quiet town of Buchtton.
Youngvia clutched the straps of her cello case and continued on her way to the town hall. A few people glanced at her as she walked, but most were content to focus on the excitement of Community Day. “Hey, Youngvia!” Youngvia twirled around to see her friend Aleah racing toward her with her own cello case thumping against her back. Aleah’s dark wavy hair bounced around her shoulders and her brown eyes were bright. “Oh, my goodness,” Aleah said as she stopped beside Youngvia. “I thought I would never find you. Buchtton is such a small town, but it really gets crazy on Community Day.” Youngvia nodded in agreement. “That’s for sure. Are you ready to play?” Aleah laughed. “You bet I’m ready. My mothers and sisters are all sick of me playing the songs at home. I’m sure your family feels the same.” Youngvia definitely had been practicing a lot, but her little sister and parents were used to it now, so they rarely ever complained. She and Aleah weaved through the crowds to reach the brick building at the center of the streets. Around her, Youngvia could smell the sweetness of cotton candy and hear the laughter of kids and parents. As pop music boomed from speakers above her, she could feel the ground vibrating below her feet. The scene both energized her, but also made her nervous. What if she couldn’t do this Community Day service? It was the first time she had performed at an event like this. Most of the time, she played in school talent shows and musicals where the only people she was being judged against were other high school students. Here, the stakes seemed so much higher. The two girls finally made it to the steps of Town Hall. At the top of the steps, a black platform had been wheeled out in front of the great brown doors and tech people were racing back and forth across the stage to check the mics and connect the mess of wires that were required for the performance. “I’m so glad that I don’t have to handle the tech stuff,” Aleah said beside Youngvia. She had to shout to be heard over the speakers. “I know I would mess everything up.” Mr. Agu, the high school music and drama teacher ran over to Aleah and Youngvia from the top of the stairs. “There you two girls are.” He grinned at them. “I know how hard you have been working in class and it must be nice for it to finally be paying off.” Aleah beamed at the teacher. “Thank you for always supporting us.” “Well, go be awesome.” He nodded toward the stage. Youngvia’s heart pounding, she started up the steps. The cello on her back weighed down on her and with each step her feet made, it felt like she was walking through mud. The noises of the background faded to the edges of her senses and all that could swarm in was her anxiety. Stop it, Youngvia, she scolded herself. She had never been this nervous about performing before. She had always loved sharing her gifts with the world and being able to bring others joy through her music. Why was today different? What if everybody hates me after this? What if they think I’m terrible and stuck-up and they abandon me? There it was. That word. The word that Youngvia tried to push out of her mind all of the time. That word that had caused her so much pain since she was an infant. She glanced at Aleah. She couldn’t tell what her friend was feeling, but she wondered if Aleah also had the fear of failure leading to abandonment like her. They both were adopted, meaning that they had to have been abandoned first. It was part of their stories. Yet, Aleah had only been abandoned once and she had been adopted into a loving family with four mothers and five sisters. Youngvia had been adopted as a baby and then abandoned again when she was ten, only to be taken in by her first adoptive mother’s cousin. What was Youngvia thinking hiding behind her music? The pain of the past would never leave her. She crossed the last step and trudged toward the black stage. She smiled back weakly at the tech people who waved and grinned at her and her eyes drifted over the cobbled ground. Aleah went up the stage steps first and strode toward one of two wooden chairs on the platform. Youngvia lumbered after her friend. Her mind erratic, she unzipped her instrument and went through the movements of tuning. Her arms shivered and sweat dripped down her forehead. Even though it was a warm day, she still felt this weird sensation of feeling both warm and cold. Her stomach churned inside of her and her legs wobbled as she positioned the cello between them. The pop music quieted and Aleah flashed Youngvia a smile. We got this, she mouthed. All Youngvia could do was nod back. And then they played. Once she felt the cello vibrate between her legs. Once she heard the silence settle down among the people below. Once their footsteps quieted, their chattering paused. Once she knew she was safe up here, Youngvia could breathe the music. “See? That wasn’t so bad,” Aleah said to her fifteen minutes later after they had finished playing and were heading back into the crowds. The pop music had returned to the speakers and chattering fluttered around them. Youngvia grinned. “Yeah, it was nice.” “Do you want to talk about what had made you so nervous? Usually, you aren’t this uptight about playing in front of all these people.” Youngvia watched as a family of four passed by, their laughter a light breeze blowing by her ear. “I mean, this is our first time playing at Community Day. We usually play in more formal places where the people there are our families or people who know music. It’s weird playing here where us playing isn’t the main act.” “We’re just part of the crowd.” Aleah nodded. “Right, but it was nice…being part of the crowd. I was so worried everyone would just leave if they didn’t like what they were hearing, but no one did. They just listened. It made me feel like I belonged and that I didn’t have to worry about being abandoned.” Aleah’s brown hand grasped onto Youngvia’s pale one. “You never have to worry about being abandoned again, if that’s what you’re worried about. Buchtton is a small community, but we look out for one another, okay?” Youngvia smiled. “Okay.”
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AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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