by Lucy Connell
I feel instantly mortified. Why would a complete stranger react like that? I instinctively run my hands through my hair in case it’s sticking up stupidly or something and I hadn’t noticed. I reach for the compact mirror in my bag and check my make-up that Nancy did for me this morning, but it looks as perfect as when she’d just finished, nothing smeared or smudged.
As more and more people stroll past me into the building, I grow impatient, constantly checking my phone. Chase was meant to be here half an hour ago and we’re supposed to have signed in by now. I can’t bear the idea of facing people like that sunglasses boy on my own, but I also don’t want to be late on my very first day. Finally, my phone beeps with a message from Chase.
Hey, I’m so sorry, I won’t be able
to make it. Stuck in a meeting
that’s overrun and can’t leave!
Good luck for your first day,
you’ll smash it! Xxx
It’s so stupid but I feel like crying. I can’t believe he’s not coming. He promised he’d be here. And he could have told me sooner, rather than letting me stand around waiting for him. It was his idea for me to audition for this course in the first place and now he’s left me to handle it on my own.
No, Nina, that’s not fair, I tell myself, shaking my head at my own thoughts. Everyone else is able to walk into Guildhall on their own, so this should not be such a big deal. I tell myself that over and over until I find the courage to pick up my bag and walk towards the glass doors.
‘Hi,’ I say quietly as I reach the reception desk. ‘I’m Nina Palmer.’
‘Sorry?’ the receptionist says, looking up from the computer.
‘I’m … N-Nina Palmer,’ I repeat a little louder, my cheeks growing hot.
At moments like this, I wish I had the confidence of Nancy. She wouldn’t have waited for anyone. She would have marched in on time and announced herself without any qualms whatsoever, excited to get going and make an impression on some of the best music teachers in the country.
I can’t even say my name without tripping over my words.
The receptionist smiles warmly. ‘Ah yes. Welcome to Guildhall. Here’s your room key; you’ll be sharing room fourteen with Grace Bright. The induction is going to start soon, but you can leave your bag in your room, then you’ll need to be in the Milton Court concert hall in ten minutes. And don’t forget your music from your audition.’
She holds out the key, but, as soon as I take it from her, I drop it. Feeling like a complete klutz, my whole face is burning with embarrassment as I bend down to pick it up. Ignoring my clumsiness, the receptionist shows me on a map how to get to the halls where my room is and points me in the right direction.
I go back outside into the cold and follow the map down the road and round a corner to the halls. Some other students are hurrying down the stairs as I enter, already on their way to the induction, but I keep my eyes to the floor as they go past chatting. I’m too nervous to introduce myself. As I reach room fourteen, the door swings open and a girl with curly dark hair and bright eyes stands in the doorway.
‘You must be Nina!’ she says, beaming at me. ‘Hi, I’m Grace.’
‘Hi,’ I squeak as she gestures for me to come in.
‘Are you fussy about which bed you’re on?’ she asks. ‘I shoved my bag on that one by the window, but I really don’t mind where I am, so say if you have a preference.’
I shake my head, my stomach doing somersaults of nerves. I put my bag on the bed that isn’t taken and go over to the window, looking out at the courtyard I just crossed from the road. I see more students leaving our building and swallow the lump in my throat. They all look intimidating. Even though I know I’m going home tomorrow, I still feel homesick. I wish Chase could be here, or Nancy, or Mum. It all feels a bit too overwhelming.
‘Are you OK?’ Grace asks, watching me curiously.
‘Yeah. Just a bit nervous.’
She smiles kindly. ‘Don’t worry – I’m nervous, too,’ she says. ‘I keep telling myself it’s just a couple of days but I guess being here –’ she gestures at the room – ‘I know it’s stupid because it’s only the weekends and it’s not like we’re actual students at Guildhall, but I feel completely terrified as though I don’t deserve to be here.’
‘Same,’ I admit.
‘Let’s go to the concert hall for the induction. Have you got your sheet music from your audition?’
I fumble for my Austin Golding music and clutch it close to my chest like a safety blanket as Grace leads the way out of the room and along the corridor to the stairs.
‘So, you’re a pianist, right? I saw that video on YouTube of you playing the Chasing Chords song “Ghosts” at New Year. Wow, you’re talented! You play with so much feeling – it’s amazing!’
‘Oh, no, I’m not that good,’ I assure her as we cross the courtyard and head down the road. ‘It seems like a tricky song to play but actually –’
‘Nina,’ she laughs, interrupting me gently, ‘you’re allowed to take a compliment. You wouldn’t be here on this course if you weren’t great at playing the piano.’
‘Are you a pianist, too?’ I ask, steering the conversation in a different direction.
‘I wish,’ she says. ‘I’m a singer. One day, I want to be on the West End.’
‘My sister and I love the West End.’ I smile. ‘I love playing songs from the big shows.’
‘You have any favourites?’
‘Have you heard of Half a Sixpence?’
She breaks into a wide grin. ‘I love that show.’
‘One of my favourite songs is “If the Rain’s Got to Fall”. Nancy and I are obsessed with it.’
‘I’m a Dreamgirls fan myself. If you haven’t seen it, you need to. I’ve seen it five times,’ she says, before pointing up to a building on our left. ‘I think this is Milton Court.’
A man waiting at the front of the building directs us to the hall and, as Grace pushes open the door, we both stop and look around us in complete awe. The hall is so grand and vast, with its high ceiling and hundreds of audience seats facing a wide, brightly lit wooden-floored stage. A long lighting rig hangs high above it.
‘Whoa,’ Grace gasps before turning to me, her eyes wide in amazement. ‘This isn’t at all terrifying.’
‘It’s incredible,’ I whisper, staring at the group of teachers standing on the stage, talking to one another. I gulp, spotting Caroline Morreau among them.
Some of the seats in the first few rows are taken by fellow students on the course, who glance up at us as we choose two seats behind them. I shrink as low as possible into my seat as soon as I’m in it. Even though I’ve just met her, I’m so glad that I was put in a room with someone as nice and friendly as Grace.
The two boys in front swivel round to face us and I realize that one of them is the guy in sunglasses I saw earlier. The boy next to him has dark brown, curly hair and those large, round tortoiseshell glasses that all the popular people in my school wear.
‘It’s Nina, right? Nina Palmer?’ the sunglasses boy says in a low voice.
‘Yes, and this is Grace,’ I say, as she gives a wave next to me.
‘Right,’ he says, looking like he doesn’t care that much. ‘I’m Jordan.’
‘James.’ The boy in the tortoiseshell glasses smiles.
I instinctively like James. Jordan, not so much. And it turns out my instincts could not be more right.
‘You’re the one dating Chase Hunter,’ Jordan states. ‘The lead singer of … what’s that band?’
‘Chasing Chords,’ Grace tells him excitedly. ‘I love their music. Chase writes all the songs, doesn’t he? The lyrics are so good and such creative melodies.’
Jordan snorts.
‘Sorry,’ he says, clearly not sorry at all. ‘No offence to your boyfriend, but pop songs aren’t really my thing.’
‘No worries.’ I shrug, not wanting to start the weekend with any negativity. And anyway, until I went to a Chasing
Chords show, I thought the same way. I was as ignorant and snobbish as Jordan before I really listened to a Chasing Chords song.
‘So, did he just make a call then?’ Jordan asks me breezily.
‘Um, did who make a call?’
‘Chase,’ he says, looking at me as though I’m stupid.
‘Sorry, I don’t know what you –’
‘That’s why you’re here, right?’ he says loud enough for other students around us to glance over in curiosity. ‘Because you’re famous.’
‘No, I’m not famous,’ I reply.
‘It must be nice just to be able to click your fingers and get what you want, just because you’re dating a pop star,’ he says with a thin-lipped smile. ‘I guess it’s true what they say: it’s not what you know – it’s who you know.’
‘Hey,’ Grace says, frowning at him. ‘Nina didn’t get on this course because she’s dating Chase Hunter. Haven’t you seen the video of her playing? She’s a talented pianist.’
‘Sure,’ Jordan says, rolling his eyes. ‘But it doesn’t exactly hurt to let someone like Nina on the course, right? Good publicity and all that. I’m just saying that some of us had to work hard to get on this course, whereas others can get places using their connections.’
‘I auditioned,’ I say, growing flustered at all the attention. ‘I didn’t get in because of Chase.’
‘But he took you to the audition. I saw him here that day.’
‘Well, yeah, but … but he just wanted to be here for me; it’s not like he knows any of the teachers here.’
Jordan’s eyes flicker to the sheet music resting on my lap and a smirk crosses his lips.
‘You played Austin Golding for your audition? And you still think you got in just on your playing? The last time I played any of that simple, popular music, I was about five years old. Guildhall is a place for serious musicians,’ Jordan says, turning back to face the stage. ‘I’d hate to think it had lowered its standards by giving someone famous a place when they’re not good enough.’
I bite my lip and stare down at my feet, desperately trying not to cry.
‘Ignore him,’ Grace whispers, before raising her voice to make sure he hears the next bit. ‘Unfortunately, you get a lot of jealousy in music.’
But Jordan just sits there, looking ahead and smiling, completely indifferent to her comment.
I feel grateful to Grace for standing up for me, but I’m also completely mortified. The first day hasn’t even started and already everyone thinks I don’t deserve to be here. Jordan’s words sting and I can’t get them out of my brain. I tell myself that there’s no way that the teachers at Guildhall would care about things like who I’m dating, and they would only judge on talent, but Jordan has made me feel uneasy.
And, even worse, everyone else will be thinking that now.
‘Good morning!’
Caroline steps forward to the front of the stage. Her dark hair is tied back from her face and she is wearing bright red lipstick and a smart black dress. I realize that in all her concert clips I’ve seen on YouTube, and on the front of all her album covers, she’s always been wearing black. I’m also not sure I’ve ever seen her smile.
‘I am Caroline Morreau, the director of music. Welcome to the Guildhall weekend music course. Over the next few weeks, you’ll spend every weekend learning from the very best in the business, giving you a taster of what it’s like to be a student here. We believe that you are the musicians of the future, who will one day study full-time with us –’ she pauses to scan our faces and everyone sits up a bit higher in their seats – ‘but, most importantly, you’re here to develop your passion for music and the arts. This first weekend, you’ll be learning the ropes. Next weekend, we’ll have some exciting announcements and that’s when the real work begins.’
There’s a murmur of anticipation through the hall before she continues.
‘This afternoon, you’ll be introduced to your teachers and begin your lessons, but we thought we’d start with a performance from each of you; your audition pieces were just too good not to share with your peers. So, without further ado, let’s see what you can do.’
I go completely numb.
‘Is she serious? I can’t … I can’t go up there and perform,’ I say in a panic to Grace, who is busy getting her sheet music in order. ‘I can’t. She knows I can’t. I could barely play just to her in the audition.’
‘Of course you can,’ Grace says, turning to me in surprise. ‘You’re a brilliant performer. I’ve seen you in action, remember?’
‘No, Grace, I can’t.’ I clutch her wrist, shaking my head. ‘That thing I did at New Year was with Chase and it was a complete one-off. I get stage fright. Really bad stage fright.’
‘We’ll go alphabetically by surname so, Grace Bright, you’re up first,’ Caroline announces, leading a round of applause.
Grace stands up and shifts past me into the aisle, walking towards the stage. She hands her music over to Caroline, who takes it to the piano while Grace goes centre stage.
As Grace starts to sing, I’m so mesmerized by her voice that for a moment I forget about how scared I am and become completely engrossed in the song. She looks so confident and comfortable on that stage; the idea of her doing anything else in life seems immediately absurd. Her song comes to an end and the audience burst into applause. The fear washes over me again.
‘You have the most beautiful voice,’ I tell her when she returns to her seat. ‘Why aren’t you already performing on the West End?’
She giggles and thanks me as Caroline calls the next person up to perform. I get more and more nervous as time goes on, desperately trying to think of an excuse to get out of this. Maybe I could pretend to be sick. Or say I don’t want to do it. But this is Guildhall. If I mess this up or refuse to perform, they’ll kick me off the course – and my dream of attending this school one day will be over.
I close my eyes, trying to stay calm. They didn’t say we’d have to perform our audition piece on the first day. No one warned us about this. I can’t do it. I can’t.
Yes, you can.
I hear Chase’s voice in my head, just as he’s said it a million times these past few weeks whenever he’s encouraged me to play something in front of family or friends in an effort to help me get over my stage fright.
Just take a deep breath and remember that this is what you love doing. Forget the audience, play for yourself.
But his voice is drowned out by Jordan’s name being called and the round of applause as he sits down at the piano.
‘He’s a pianist,’ I groan to Grace.
‘I think you two might be the only ones on the course,’ she says. ‘There’s not many people left to perform and, judging by the fact those two over there are holding a flute and a violin, I’m going to guess that those are their instruments and they’re not just holding them for the hell of it.’
Jordan begins to play. He’s brilliant. He’s a hundred times better than me. I don’t realize that my mouth is hanging open for his whole performance until he finishes and I need to swallow because it’s so dry.
‘Nina Palmer!’ Caroline calls out next as Jordan goes to sit down, receiving a high-five from James.
I stay in my seat and Grace gives me a nudge with her elbow. As I get to my feet, I drop my sheet music and Jordan lets out an audible sigh.
‘Here we go,’ he says, under his breath.
Grace helps me gather up my music. ‘You’ll be OK, Nina,’ she whispers encouragingly. ‘You’re just as brilliant as he is, if not better. Go and prove it.’
I stumble up to the stage and put my music on the piano, getting it back in order. The hall falls silent. The piano stool scrapes loudly across the floor as I move it into position and I apologize out loud to no one in particular.
‘When you’re ready, Nina,’ Caroline says, before going to stand on the side of the stage behind me.
I try to remember everything that Chase has said about stage fright, about
taking a deep breath and focusing on just doing what I love, but the music hall is so big and I can feel everyone’s eyes boring into me. My fingers are shaking so badly as I rest them on the keys that I accidentally press a random note before I start playing, the sound reverberating around the hall in the silence.
‘Sorry,’ I say again. No one says anything. They’re just waiting.
I know I can’t just sit here; I have to start playing. So, I do. But my nerves are in pieces and I noticeably mess up in several places throughout the song. My performance is terrible, like I’ve never seen the music I’m playing before. When I get to the end, I’m so relieved it’s over that I don’t hold the last note properly or wait for the crowd’s reaction. I leap to my feet, almost knocking over the piano stool, and scrunch up my music from the stand, rushing to get down the steps off the stage and back to my seat as quickly as possible.
There is a stilted, half-hearted round of applause, as though no one is quite sure whether to clap or not. I sit down and can’t hold back my tears any longer. They flow freely down my cheeks. Caroline clears her throat and calls the next name. Grace shoots me a sympathetic look and reaches over to pat my hand.
Jordan speaks loud enough to James so that everyone, including me, can hear.
‘Looks like famous connections can only get you so far. Talent always wins out in the end.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Nancy
I turn round as someone taps me on the shoulder at my locker. It’s a girl from a couple of years below.
‘Hi, Nina,’ she says, as a group of her friends hang back giggling. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to ask how you got this look?’
She holds up her phone screen. It’s a picture of Nina standing outside Guildhall on a celebrity gossip website underneath the headline:
NINA MOVES CENTRE STAGE!
Chase Hunter’s girlfriend hits all the right fashion notes as she starts her part-time music course at Guildhall School of Music and Drama!
