Little Shy Ariel (ft. Harry Styles)

Chapter 9 - Praises

Chapter 9 - Praises

I stop singing when I hear clapping and I literally jump on the little bench and end up on the floor, sitting on my bum, my eyes as big as plates as I stare in shock at the person approaching to me with a smirk. She is gorgeous, that’s the first thing I notice. With bright red hair like mine, too red as to be natural. Her eyes are green and so full of life, her skin is fair and her smile is contagious. She looks so confident even in the retreat centre uniform. She looks like she owns every spot she steps on as she keeps walking in my direction whilst I stay still on the floor, staring like an idiot.

“That was absolutely amazing. You have such a lovely and unique voice. So raspy at some points and the way you hit the high notes. Oh, it gave me the chills. The good kind,” she speaks so naturally and I’m still on the floor.

I can’t stop humiliating myself, can I?

“Seriously, you are wonderful. I was just passing by when I heard you. Oh my God,” she carries on finally stopping in front of me and this time she offers me her hand to help me back on my feet. “I’m Mare, nice to meet you.”

As I’m holding her hand, I shake it but I don’t speak. I’m still too shocked and well, the usual stuff. Too nervous to even say a word.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” she asks, staring right into my eyes and I shiver. Not the good kind. I look everywhere, trying to find a way out. To run away like a cockroach when the light is on. “I know you can speak. You sing amazingly, so why won’t you tell me your name?”

I am shaking, as usual, my heart is beating like a drum set and I think I’m going to start to hyperventilate. My hands are sweating so I pull back from the handshake and take three steps back, just so I can breathe. Proximity doesn’t suit me.

“I-I-I’m…” I stutter, like a toddler. “I’m Ariel.” I finally manage to say and once the words leave my lips, Mare’s smile widens even more.

“Such a lovely name for such a lovely voice. Once again, that was amazing. And I’ve never heard that song before. It’s beautiful!”

I’m impressed. She speaks so enthusiastically and never losing her smile, while I’m still shaking like a nudist at the North Pole.

I know I have no way out, she doesn’t seem like the type that will just leave me alone. She’s more like my sisters, who would push me to speak and tell them what I’m thinking. She doesn’t look like Timmy or Carl, who just accepted I’m not a social girl and that smiling is already a big deal for me.

“I,” I start and I have to swallow the lump in my throat. “I-I wrote it,” I say closing my eyes, trying to imagine she’s not there.

It doesn’t help much, though.

“Wow, even more amazing. Girl, you are incredibly talented! Why are you hiding here? You should be ruling the world! With millions of fans wanting to be near you. Don’t you want the rest of the world to hear your music? I mean, I was blown away!”

Incredibly as it may sound, I smile at her words. She praises a song I was working on with such confidence, like she knows it’s the best song she’s ever heard when it’s not even finished. Hearing her talking like that about my music makes me feel all tingly inside, like I have butterflies in my stomach —I assume that’s the way to say how I feel. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m following what I’ve read in books and seen in movies.

My dad, my sisters and even my mum when she was alive used to tell me how good I was, but your family is bound to tell you that you’re great, even if you’re not. Especially when you’re shy and so insecure. It’s their duty as your relatives. But when strangers, when people you’ve never seen before, tell you that you are indeed a great musician... Well, in that case it's a whole different story. It feels real in a way I can’t really explain.