Deleted Scenes: Chica

She had no idea how she got here. Out there was her biggest dream… She never thought it would be unfolding so soon. What if she wasn’t ready? What if she didn’t practice enough…? 

 

Her hands shook, her breathing was unsteady, and worst of all, her heart was pounding. Her family members were out there. The ones that wouldn’t adopt her. She was going to make them regret that decision tonight. She was going to make those people regret the holiday cards and purses and dolls they got for her to dodge responsibility for being involved in her life. 

 

And most importantly, her father was looking down on her, ready to see his Chica live his greatest dream out there.

 

She unconsciously rubbed her belly as nerves overtook her. When she realized what she was doing, she quickly dropped her hand. This dress wasn’t flattering. No, it wasn’t her outfit… It was her. Her stomach always jutted out like this. Oooh, this dress must have made her look pregnant. She always looked pregnant, with a belly that bulged out like hers did. 

 

The man standing next to her could sense that she was nervous, but wasn’t quite sure how to comfort the teenager. 

 

“Play your best. You’ve practiced for so long. You can do this.” 

 

She gave him a polite smile, twirling a long, black lock of hair in her finger. Her aunt scolded her in her head. Her hair had been done perfectly for tonight, and she best not mess with it anymore. 

 

He didn’t even look back before he swept out onto the stage. She felt like she was going to throw up… It seemed to take forever for the thunderous applause to quiet even the slightest, and then he spoke. 

 

“Now it is my honor to present the winner of this year’s Youth Concerto Competition…” Oooh, she was going to vomit when he said her name. But there was no option for that. She took one last deep breath, stood up straight, put on a smile, and gracefully walked out onto the stage. 

 

One foot in front of the other, she told herself, One step at a time.

 

She thought back to her teacher’s advice. They are all clapping for you, he said. Get excited.

 

She simply couldn’t. Her legs felt like jelly. When she bowed, her hair cascading down like a waterfall, she almost dropped her violin. Hands shaking, she took one more deep breath as the applause died down. She looked at Mr. McGinty, gave him a nod to indicate that she was ready, and put her instrument to her chin. Her bow hold almost faltered, bouncing on the strings which made a small response and made her blush. He waited patiently for eye contact so that he could start the song. Her song. 

 

When she put the bow to the strings, she expected her worries to melt away, just like her teacher said, just as she always imagined… But her heart only beat harder. What if her bow wasn’t parallel? What if she accidentally knicked another string? The notes on the page flew by, and her hands shook as she counted down each page, each measure, each damn note. She knew she was destined for this: but she couldn’t help feeling like a failure up on stage, playing worse than she knew she could nonetheless… The song couldn’t end fast enough, but each beat was in its specific place, time only went as fast as the conductor allowed it. 

 

Oh, a tough run is coming… Her stomach did a flop as it flew past her eyes, her fingers and hands acting in the moment as they’d been so diligently trained to do. She couldn’t linger on the mistakes and imperfections of her playing, she had to continue to perform. And perform she did. 

 

When she finished, she stood frozen, letting the last note ring through the concert hall as she’d been told. Then, came the applause. It was flooring to the teenager. She stared out into the dark pit of people, all of them cheering… The conductor was looking expectantly at her, and she quickly lurched forward into a bow, the heavy weight of all the extensions in her hair almost sending her forwards. When she came back up, they were still clapping, so she bowed again. Mr. McGinty threw up his hands for the orchestra to stand and be recognized. He presented her to the crowd again, shook her hand, and together they went into the backstage corridor. And, as was formality, came back out on the stage for one last bow together before the lights came back up for intermission. 

 

And just like that, it was over. She stood in the dimly lit area backstage, her body still shaking with nerves and fear. Musicians’ faces blended together as they wished her a good job and the greatest congratulations. Many of them said that they hoped she would join the symphony when she was eighteen and graduated. She smiled until her cheeks hurt, politely bowing her head in gratitude as they bestowed such high praise upon her. 

 

They couldn’t see who she really was. That she did not deserve their high praise. She felt like such an imposter… Dammit. The orchestra went back on stage for the second half of their performance, while she slipped off into the bathroom. It was empty now, everyone was going back to see the show… 

 

She jabbed her fingers into the back of her throat. It was enough to get her through the performance, but she really didn’t need the extra… Padding in her stomach. She cleared out all of the contents of her dinner violently, choking into the toilet seat. It was a hollow, lonely place to be. But it was necessary for her to have the body of a concertmistress… A body that people could love. 

 

Her sinuses burned and her mouth reeked of the acid. She spit into the toilet one last time, still breathing deeply from the purge, and flushed. Slowly, she made her way back to her feet, using the wall of the stall for support, her hand instinctively going to her bulging stomach, desperately wishing for it to be flat. She took another shaking breath, wiping the tears out of her eyes and exiting the stall. She stopped at the sink, lapping up water from her hands and washing off her face.

 

“Are you alright?” The innocent voice made her jump and hit her hands off the faucet. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you.” 

 

She took a step closer, clearing the shaggy red bangs out of her shocking green eyes to offer a reassuring smile. 

 

“Yes, I am alright, thank you.” She bowed her head to the eccentric girl in red. 

 

“You performed amazingly.”

 

“Oh, um, thank you.” She gave a gracious smile to the young girl and instinctively wiped her lips. 

 

“Are… You sure you’re alright?” she asked again. “You look quite pale.” 

 

“Of course,” she said, with another gracious smile. She sucked it in, by this point it was just a force of habit. 

 

“How long have you been playing the violin?” 

 

She looked for any sign of malice on the girl’s face, and only saw a childish admiration. “Since I was three,” she said. “My father started me on one of those tiny little baby violins. When... he died, his greatest wish was for me to continue my lessons. He set up a trust for it and everything.” 

 

“They make violins for babies?” she asked, wide eyes becoming even wider. “I didn’t know that.”

 

“Yup… They do…” 

 

“Are you going back in to watch the rest of the show?” she asked. 

 

“Of course.” She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how badly her breath must stink. 

 

“Why don’t you come sit with me and my friends? There happened to be an empty spot right next to us.” 

 

She blushed. “Oh, um… I should really find my uncle and his family…” She bit her lip. She didn’t want to see them. Not after they left her out to dry for so long. They only came when they could boast her. Never when she actually needed them… The thought: or the lukewarm tap water she’d lapped just now: made her stomach feel ill. 

 

“Alright,” the girl said, giving her a last smile and turning to walk back to her seat. 

 

“Wait!” she called it out before she really knew what she was saying. “If the offer is still available…” 

 

The other girl let out a squeal of excitement, hurrying over to her and taking her hand. “Of course! Come on! I think it’s between songs and we can sneak back in.” 

 

She followed the excited girl back into the auditorium, where sure enough, the audience was applauding politely for the orchestra as the girl slid into a seat and patted the one next to her. The violinist took a deep breath and sat next to her. “Told you she’d be a perfect fit. Let this be a lesson to you, Bonnie. I always win bets.” The boy who was right next to her crossed his arms and huffed.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” the confused violinist whispered, but her question wasn’t answered as the orchestra began their last song. 

 

What had this girl just brought her into?!