Ouch. It hurts.
Oh well, put up with it.
My dress is uncomfortable.
The sleeves itch.
My hair is pulled back too tight.
My headpiece is too heavy, with too many pins.
I want to scratch my nose, but I can’t mess up my makeup.
My ribbons are tight, it feels like circulation is being cut off.
The tape around my feet scratches.
At least my ribbons won’t come undone.
The dressing room is now flooded with people. That’s one act finished.
This is my act now.
We all quickly check ourselves.
Buttons done up, shoes tied up, makeup done, hair off face.
Hey! Has anyone seen my prop?
The mechanical whirring of the curtain can be heard from backstage.
The music starts, loud and clear.
I can feel the song.
My heart is beating in my chest.
I take a look around, even though the lights are dimmed.
The younger girls look even more nervous than me.
It’s their first concert.
I know exactly how they’re feeling.
Excitement, anxiousness, this uncontrollable energy.