[I was inspired while skimming a Glee inspired roleplay that a good friend of mine did. The roleplay isn't active, and none of the people written about exist other than in my own head. It's unedited, sorry. But I just had to write until I got the voice out of my head.]
The choir room was full of people, as today was audition day. Grace knew it well, though never as one of the singers. Unlike her sister, Grace had preferred to play the piano. She swallowed. Her sister wasn't going to be at auditions this year.
She took a breath, trying to calm her nerves. She was fidgeting--her foot was bouncing out a rhythm of its own, ignoring the song that Loren was currently belting out. Sure, Loren was good as always, but Grace found herself too preoccupied with her own anxiety to care.
What if she messed up? Stumbled on the notes and cause herself to mess the whole song up? What if she sang out of key, and everyone had to cover their ears in pain because it turned out that she was worse than some of those contestants on American idol, despite what Marc and Abby always said? Had she practiced enough? She'd gone through runs earlier--the bathroom next to the science lab was perfect for acoustics, and no one but Grace seemed to go in there during then. She'd even done those stupid phrases over and over.
'Unique, New York. How now, brown cow? Red leather, yellow leather. Barack, Barack, Barack Obama!' She repeated in her head. Of course, that wouldn't help much now. It had, while she paced in the bathroom, wringing her hands out. Her hands were now in her lap, twisting from her nerves.
Grace felt a hand on hers, and she looked up. Marc. He squeezed her hands gently, understanding. She'd played the piano for almost all of his songs for the past three years at his request. He knew she could sing; they spent hours doing duets together, making songs into duets, and even collaborating on mashups and writing songs. Marc understood why Grace didn't sing. Singing was Abby's thing. That and the stage fright.
But he also knew why she was here, even if he didn't know she was coming. At least, to be an auditioner.
Loren finished the last note of her song. Mr. Harris and the rest of the club burst into applause and Loren bowed. She was already in. Loren was always already in. She was a fantastic singer, yes. Her rudeness, however, wasn't one to be shoved under the rug.
"Next we have Grace Jin." Mr. Harris said. He glanced up at Grace, who took a hard swallow as twenty other pairs of eyes landed on her. She could feel Marc's hand on hers again, squeezing tight. "I didn't know you sang, Miss Jin. Usually it's…"
He stopped, thankfully so.
"I'll be playing the piano for her, obviously." Marc said jokingly. Grace choked out a laugh. Most knew that while Marc was a talented counter-tenor, he was terrible with instruments. "You are singing Mary had a little lamb, right?"
"You still have yet to learn that one." Grace managed to say. She smiled softly at Marc before standing up. It was now or never. Grace carefully made her way down the steps and over to the piano. "Do you mind if I play?"
It was behind the piano that Grace felt the most comfortable. As the piano player got up, so did Mr. Harris and the rest of the group. They all moved their chairs to where they would be able to see Grace perform. The Chinese girl took a deep breath.
She could do this. She played at Nationals. She sang with Marc all the time. She didn't see anyone while on stage behind the piano at Nationals, and she wouldn't see them all now.
Grace took a seat on the piano bench and wiggled her fingers while she got comfortable. Closing her eyes, she licked her lips and took another deep breath.
'Come on, Grace. You can do it.' She told herself. 'You know this song.'
She brought her fingers to the keys, gently letting her fingertips hover over the keys. She opened her eyes, and tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling as her fingers gently caressed the keys, notes spilling out into the air.
"Sta ah ah ahrs." She sang. She closed her mouth and took a breath, playing out the intro to the song into the beginning of it.
"I can't do the audition this year." Abby said. She looked at Grace, tears forming in her eyes. "I always audition. Who else is going to make Loren feel insecure and wish she never sang again?"
The steady beeping of the heart monitor grounded Grace as much as the tears in her twin's eyes. "There's always Marc. We've been working on a slew of songs together, him and I." Grace said. "He's driving me up the wall with not being able to make a decision for audition day, even though it's three months away."
Abby sniffed. "I still can't believe he beat me out to asking my own twin for help and leaving me with Derek. I don't care if it was three years ago." The girl said. She lifted a hand to her nose, pushing at it gently with her wrist. Her hospital bracelet fell to mid arm. "And, it doesn't matter if Derek was my boyfriend. I should have had you."
Grace rested a hand on her sister's knee, the hospital blanket feeling a bit scratchy under Grace's palm. "I can't work with a diva. Not after middle school." She said seriously.
Abby shot Grace a look, but it was ruined by her face twitching. The two of them broke into laughter a moment later.
"Alright, alright. So my desire to have my own dressing room and twelve assistants was a bit much. But, I was a star. Still am a star. I should get that right." Abby said. She released a breath and her face got serious. "But I can't be a star this year. Someone needs to take my place. And it can't be Loren. God I'm so sick of hearing about how perfect she is and how the whole school worships her."
Grace pursed her lips, making a questioning face. "I could audition. I mean. We look alike. Maybe they'll think I'm you."
Abby snorted. "Like they did for most of our freshman year?" Grace smiled, nodding. Abby licked her lips, the smile running away from her face. "You should, though. You're a good singer. Almost better than me."
Grace was about to respond when her sister's words sung in. "Be...better than you? Man those drugs they're giving you are good. Can I get some of those?"
"I'm serious, Gracey. I had to have all those years of vocal training while you had piano lessons. I get praised for being a great singer, and I have to work hard for it. But the minute you open your mouth, it's like I have to have vocal training for the rest of my life to even match you." Abby said. She dropped her hand and squeezed Grace's. The girl didn't say anything, letting her sister continue. "Audition. Because that club needs a Jin girl to kick its ass and bring it the National title that I couldn't secure because of stupid Loren and her horrible roots."
"I lit a fire with the love you left behind." Grace sang. She blinked, her fingers instinctively playing the keys. "And it burned wild and crept up the mountainside."
She kept looking up at the ceiling. Maybe it would inspire her. Keep her nerves quiet and any other emotions at bay. Yes. Singing with emotions was a good thing, except when those emotions inhibited the singing process. "I followed your ashes into outer space." Grace continued. She swallowed again. "I can't look out the window; I can't look at this place."
She could feel the build up coming. Her voice was matching the woman who shared her name, changing in dynamic like it was supposed to. Grace had studied the song for days. It was engrained into her memory.
"I can't look at the staaaaars, they make me wonder where you are. Staaa aaah ahrs, up on heaven's boulevard. And if I know you at all, I know you've gone too far. So I, I can't look at the staaaars."
She closed her mouth again, letting her fingers do the music for her. Each note wrapped around her as she played, almost making her forget where she was. She didn't see anyone in the room. Her focus was no longer on the ceiling. She was moving her head now, eyes closed.
Grace, however, did know they were there.
Grace was the only one Abby would allow into the hospital room before long, besides the nurses and doctors. Their parents were often too busy fighting with one another to focus too long on their daughter, or they were more interested in their cellphones.
Most days, Abby also allowed Marc, but never Derek. Especially not after the hockey player was found to be going out with another girl from 'The A Sharps'--a rival glee club at another school--, to which Grace had given Derek a black eye for. She'd screamed herself hoarse that day, calling Derek every name in the book for doing this to her sick sister. It'd had been Marc who had to pull Grace away and hold her until she stopped crying.
Because it hadn't been Derek's cheating that had broken Grace. It'd been the realization that her sister was dying and wouldn't be there. They wouldn't graduate together, they wouldn't go to college together. They wouldn't walk down the aisle for each other's weddings--Abby in a classy black dress with lime heels and Grace in jeans with sneakers--and they wouldn't grow old together.
Abby had cancer. She was seventeen, and she had fucking cancer.
"I broke up with Oliver." Marc said, studying his cards. They'd spent most of the morning and afternoon working on songs, Abby giving pointers and singing along when she could. She even had jokingly tried to steal Grace's keyboard away from her, but knew that she couldn't lift it, let alone play.
Marc had been filming as well as singing. Abby had wanted that way.
"Thank god. He was so boring." Abby said. Grace threw her crumpled up napkin at Abby, missing the girl. "What? He was! When I came to school with those gorgeous mustard yellow heels, he had been all like, 'Why are you wearing heels? It's only school.' Like, hello. Does anyone not believe in fashion anymore? Who cares if it's school. If I want to wear heels, I should be allowed."
Marc only rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Yes. Abigail Jin of the Fashion Club to tell us more on why fashion is more important than being able to walk. Share your secrets for the world."
"First off, the name is Abby. Secondly? The fashion club has a name as well. We're called Vogue. Thirdly? I can walk in heels. And dance and run, and even skip if I wanted to." Abby said. She was smiling as well. "It's unGraceful that we have to watch out for."
Grace wrinkled her nose at the nickname. Twist your ankle one time while wearing heels, and no one ever lets you forget it. "I fold." She said, placing her cards facedown. She was terrible at poker and had no idea why she played. Marc grinned wickedly.
"If I win this hand, that means Grace has to wear a dress at school tomorrow." He said. Abby nodded in agreement.
"And when you two release this album, she also has to wear a dress!"
Grace groaned. "Twice? Come on. My jeans are going to get jealous, guys!"
Of course, Marc did win the hand.
"All those times we looked up at the sky." Grace sang. She dropped her head and swallowed again. Only Abby could get Grace to bring recording tools to a hospital so they could finish the last of her album. She scrunched her eyes closed, trying not to think of Abby. She was going to start crying. "Looking out so far, we felt like we could fly."
'Gracey look at me! I'm superwoman!' The five year old version of Abby said to Grace as she ran past, a sheet following her sister.
"And now I'm all alone in the dark of night. The moon is shining, but I can't see the liiiight. And I can't look at the staaaa ah aarhs. They make me wonder where you are. Staaa aaah ahrs, up on heaven's boulevard. And if I know you at all, I know you've gone too far. So I, I can't look at the staaaars." Grace continued to sing. She could feel the tears starting to slip past her eyelids and feel as they ran down her cheeks.
She didn't hear anyone else. The notes she played hit the air, mixing together. Each note felt like it was holding Grace still. Keeping her there until she finished the song.
Abby would want her to finish the song.
She didn't speak at the funeral. Abby, Grace, and Marc all had made a eulogy video, clipping together all of the bits and pieces Marc had filmed of Abby over the past five years, as well as a speech from all of them. Marc had held Grace as it played. She wouldn't let anyone else near her.
The end of the video was a song that seven year olds Grace and Abby were singing together. 'You are my sunshine' Grace was playing the piano as Abby was dancing around. Their babysitter at the time had prerecorded them singing the song and prerecorded Grace playing the song before adding it to shots of them both playing the piano and dancing. It was one of Abby's favorite childhood movies.
Grace and Marc were both sobbing by the end of the video.
"Oooooo oooooo oooooh. Oooo ooooo ooooh." Grace sang, hitting the keys. She took the few moments of her not singing to try and stop the tears, but they weren't stopping. She was grateful it wasn't marring her performance. Abby would probably be terribly annoyed if it did.
'Always the emotional one, Gracey. You could be an actress if you didn't have such stage fright.' Abby said to Grace. She was the only one who could see Abby, as Abby was now in her head.
"Staaaaaa aaaaaaaah aaaaaaahrs. Oooooh. They make me wonder where you are. Staaaaaa aaaaaaaah aaaaaaahrs, UP ON HEAVEN'S BOULEVARD. And if I know you at all, I know you've gone too faaaaaaaaaaaaar."
She her hands froze in the air, her fingertips just barely ghosting the keys.
'Knock them dead, Grace. I don't want a dry eye in the house. If there is, I swear I'm going to haunt you and make you wear my fuchsia heels until you're on your death bed.' Abby's memory said.
She brought her fingers back down on the keys, gently playing the last of the notes. "So I." She sang. "Can't look at the staaaars."
Her hands fell to her lap and she dropped her head.
No one made a sound. Grace looked up after a few moments, tears running down her cheeks. To her shock, everyone else had been crying as well.
"Not a dry eye." She whispered softly as Mr. Harris began to clap. The rest of the club joined in, everyone standing up as they continued to clap.
Grace dropped her head shyly back down.
Grace had only stayed for Marc's performance, filming his as he'd had filmed hers. He'd gone after she did, giving a great performance of 'Roar' in only a way that Marc could.
Luckily, she'd been able to sneak out, Marc following soon after. He'd found her at her locker and wrapped her up in the tightest hug possible.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54DMWdzROH0
