Your fingers were cramping, the muscles ached and it felt like the fingers would fall off any second. But you couldn't stop, they were watching. Your eyes stared at the blackness ahead. The spotlights overhead made you sweat but also made the people disappear in the light. You were thankful for that. But you knew they were still watching.
The bow moved side to side in diligence. Under the light, you could see the extensive amount of rosin you had put on it. The cello swayed a little bit under the pressure of the bow. It was near the ending, the climax was near and the audience was on the edge of their seats. The last note hung in the air, it was abrupt, like a scream, like your scream. But no one ever notices the latter, the audience stood up and applauded. Roses were thrown on stage, you stood still, tall and straight. The smile was obviously fake but from the distant, no one could ever tell.
Smile or else no dinner tonight, you heard your mom saying. Even though she was hundreds of miles away, you could never escape that voice. With one last bow, you took your exit. People behind the scenes were clapping and your smile remained plastered on your face.
"Amazing job as always, Sugarplum." the director said. Sugarplum, the stage name you went by your parents, inspired by the Tchaikovsky ballet. "I knew I made the right choice picking you as our soloist." More like being forced to with my parents' money, you thought. Of course, your skills were undeniable, but the money was definitely a big factor. Being the biggest donor to the auditoriums around the country as well as financing for the entertainment company Director Kang owns, your parents hold a lot of influence.
"Thank you, Director Kang. I'm glad I didn't disappoint you." you said.
"Nonsense, you could never disappoint me. Your parents always watched the performance live, they said you did a great job." he commented.
Your heart stopped and your knees buckled. "They saw it?"
He nodded, looking at his phone instead of you. Typical, once the backstage crew was gone, he could care less about you. "Yeah, I video called them. It was your first performance at this prestigious auditorium, they didn't want to miss it."
And yet they did. "Oh, I see. Thank you. I will call them later."
"Alright, go home and take a break. Be back on Monday for rehearsal." Director Kang yelled out and disappeared behind the curtains somewhere. Pretty soon you were left alone. Being in this business is funny. No one cares unless you're under the spotlight. The audience scurried out of their seats and tried to get home before the sun comes out and melt off the plastic in their veins. You drove home in silence. The only sound came from the rain outside and your windshield wipers.
It became a routine, your life. Rehearsal on weekdays with a performance at some elaborate auditorium or theater in the city on the weekends. Sometimes you would travel to another country to perform. If you were lucky, you would catch a cold and stay in bed all day instead of going to see the same faces again and hearing the same fake comments. At some point, playing the cello and violin became a chore when it was meant to be your passion.
The day you told your parents you wanted to play the violin, you were five and they were supportive. You thought it was just a hobby. But your parents, being ambitious rich people who are always looking for new things to show off, poured everything into your lessons. After adding the cello into the mix, the tutor suggested adding music theory lessons. With anything, once rules were in place, the passion decreased. By the time you were ten, you had mastered both instruments and had a good grasp on music theory.
Your parents wanted you to focus on music instead of going to school but you fought them. So you worked tirelessly to excel in both music and academic somehow graduated high school and got into college to study music further. Now at 21, you were a world-class violinist and cellist. Your parents were rarely around, they traveled all over the world working with different foundations and businesses. Doing charity work was just a facade for the public while they splurged money on name-brand things and say nothing but the worst about the unfortunate. Their motto is to treat everyone like family. It's ironic considering you were their family and they left you behind. But they're never truly gone. They'll be there to harvest the fruits of your labor and to gloat and degrade you for any mistakes. Like right now, you sat on your couch with their phone number dialed but couldn't bring yourself to press call.
The line rang for two seconds before your mother answered. "Hello-"
"Your posture was horrible," she said before doing any greeting. "Your body was too stiff and that dress was not the one I told you to wear."
"That dress was uncomfortable for me to play in." you said.
"I don't care. Make it work next time. People pay good money to see you, they don't want to see a lifeless stick."
"They paid to hear the music, that's all that matters."
You heard her chuckling gaily. "My dear, you have much to learn. Music is never the focus. How you look matters, how you please them physically matters and if you can't do that, someone else will. Be better next time." Then she hung up. The phone dropped on the floor and you didn't move. It was typical, this routine of being yelled out. Music was like a tunnel into a new world, but now it was a well with no way of getting out.
After putting on your pajamas, you took out the chips and soda. If your mother were here, she would have pulled your hair out, but she wasn't here and you could cope however you'd like. The news didn't have anything exciting and you were about to turn it off when there was a notice.
"BigHit Entertainment looking for new producers with a specialty in all genres of music. Hip-hop, orchestral, EDM, etc. Auditions will be held tomorrow. Bring in your portfolio and show us what you got."
You thought about it. BigHit was a relatively new entertainment company but their star idols, Bangtan has been getting recognition nationally for their unique style and important social messages. You thought about it some more and went to bed.