More applause. They’re clapping for me. I can hear Jasmeer chanting, “Paisley, Paisley, Paisley!” Just like I visualized.
Maxine believes in me. I can’t let her down. No. I can’t let myself down.
The only way to overcome my stage fright is to do exactly what Maxine taught me.
Focus, focus, focus.
I rush onstage with a big smile, arms raised in acknowledgment, waving to the audience. Maybe my voice won’t work, but I’m going to sell my entrance. I look left, right, then up into the balcony. The spotlight is blinding. I look down at the front rows.
I can’t pick out faces in the darkness, but I know where my parents are sitting. They’re out there, along with most of Stonehill. And I’m going to show them I’m a star.
I take my place at the mic as Maxine takes hers at the piano.
She plays the intro, and I’m in:
Dark universe
No more music, no more songs
Silent days and nights
All our melodies are gone.
On time. On pitch. Perfect!
I channel my fear into the emotion of the song, wooing the audience and drawing them in.
Who can ever find them?
Who can bring back harmony?
We have to find a way to the Lost Song Galaxy.
I have their full attention, and I hold them close. Adrenaline surges through me, creating a power and joy beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.
And then the back door of the theater opens.
There’s a shift of energy in the audience.
Folks start to whisper, and heads turn.
I’m losing them.
What’s going on?
Who cares? I’m not stopping. Whatever is happening out there, I’m not going to let it distract me. I’m not messing up again like I did at Riverside House.
I sing the final chorus, building in volume.
Somewhere the music shines bright
Somewhere it sounds like the sun
Somewhere in darkness our songs still live on
Oh, somewhere the music shines bright!
I am on fire! I hold the last note longer than I’ve ever been able to before. I even have enough air left to pronounce the final t.
Maxine stops playing, and there’s polite applause. But most people are up and out of their seats. They’re gawking at the person who just slipped in and is standing at the back. Phones and cameras are flashing, even though flash photography is prohibited.
When the lights come up, I see why.
Oh my god!
It’s Denzi!
She’s wearing a ballcap and sunglasses, her hair in a ponytail, but it’s definitely her.
Oh my god!
Still, even Denzi is not going to distract me.
I stay in star mode, take a deep bow and strut offstage.
Nobody even notices.
Seventeen
I pause in the wings. What just happened?
I can hear Maxine trying to take control of the situation. “That was a fabulous performance!” she announces. “Let’s hear it for Paisley McFarland!”
But it’s no use. They’re all swarming Denzi.
“Folks!” Maxine commands in her booming voice. “Please take your seats! Now! The show must go on!”
A few people obey, probably those who already got pictures.
“Thank you,” Maxine says. “Yes, it appears that a surprise celebrity has entered the building. And I’m going to call her up onstage later. But first let’s give our full attention to the terrific lineup of performers ready and waiting to entertain you.”
Gradually the rest of the people settle back into their seats.
I head to the Limestone Room, where the volunteers are getting ready for the after-party. Some are setting up tables. Some are bringing in platters of sandwiches and wraps. Others are organizing the nonalcoholic bar with soda, water and fruit punch. I had been looking forward to celebrating after the show, but not anymore.
I don’t even try to help. I collapse on a bench and stare at a monitor. Next up is a metal band whose drummer went to Stonehill High, then an a cappella quartet and then more dancers.
I watch in a daze. Did Maxine know Denzi was coming?
Oh my god. How awesome would it be if I got to meet her?
Mainly, though, I’m just relieved my performance is over.
I should be thrilled. I did great out there. I didn’t panic, and I handled the interruption to end all interruptions. But if I’m honest, I have to admit that I feel a bit deflated. Okay, totally devastated.
I wanted major applause. I wanted glory!
But hey, Denzi is here. She’s actually here! How can I blame the audience for being distracted? If I’d been sitting out there, I would have done the exact same thing.
The volunteers finish their setup jobs and come crowding around the monitor to watch Maxine close the show. I wait for them to compliment me on my singing. Or at least mention how great it was that I carried on when Denzi interrupted my performance. Nothing.
And then I realize they wouldn’t have even seen the end of my performance. The cameras would all have been on Denzi.
Now the cameras are all on Maxine. She sits at the piano and sings her Silver Spinner song, “The Universe Is Made of Music.”
“She’s incredible,” one volunteer says.
“Totally,” another says.
“I can’t believe Denzi’s here too,” another says. “Hey, Paisley, were you surprised that she showed up in the middle of your song? Do you think she’s going to sing?”
Everyone turns to stare. I keep my eyes on the monitor. “I didn’t know she was coming, and I have no idea what’s going on.”
When Maxine is done, the audience chants, “Encore! Encore!”
She finishes with a flourish, stands and takes a deep bow, then strolls back to the podium. “Thank you so much,” she says. “You’ve been a great audience. And now, as promised, our celebrity guest.” She points to the back of the auditorium. “Come on up here, Denzi.”
The audience goes beyond wild, screaming, clapping, cheering.
Denzi yanks off her ballcap and sunglasses, tossing them into the crowd. She prances up the aisle and onto the stage, waving and blowing kisses to her fans. She embraces Maxine, then takes her mic and calls, “Hello, Stonehill! How y’all doing? It’s nice to be back!”
Mad, crazy cheering.
“Thank y’all so much. You’re too kind.” Denzi smiles and waves some more. Even in ripped jeans, cowboy boots and a sunflower-yellow T-shirt, she’s gorgeous. And she’s so at ease. She owns the stage.
“Okay then, folks, listen up. When my friend Maxine from The Lost Song Galaxy movie called me about this fundraiser, I knew I had to be here. I’m so happy I made it!” Hoots and whistles from the crowd. Finally it’s quiet enough for her to speak again. “Stonehill is my hometown, and Sunflower Farm is a very special place to me. And so it gives me great pleasure to announce that I’m making a donation of fifty thousand dollars to the Save Sunflower Farm fund.” She has to stop while the audience goes even wilder.
That’s a huge donation! Imagine having that much money! And how cool for Heath and Vanessa and their mom!
Denzi is speaking again. “One more thing. My timing is terrible. When I arrived, I accidentally interrupted a young lady’s performance. That was rude of me, and I sincerely apologize. I should have stayed out in the lobby, but when I saw her on the monitor I just had to come in and hear her in person. And now I hope she’ll let me make it up to her. Paisley, where are you? Can you please come back up here?”
I gasp. Did Denzi just call me up onstage?
I’m so shocked, I can’t move.
One of the volunteers pushes me to stand. “Go on!” she urges. “What are you waiting for? Get up there!”
I scurry back into the auditorium, up the main aisle and onto the stage. I stand there staring out at the audience, stunned. Is this really happening? Is it po
ssible? Somehow my eyes land right on my parents. The look on Mom’s face is priceless.
“Hi, Paisley!” Denzi says, giving me a hug.
I try to reply, but no words come out.
“I love how you were singing my song,” she says quickly, filling the dead air. “Wanna do it again, together?”
There’s no time to react. No time to panic. Maxine is already at the piano playing the intro. Like they planned it.
And then I’m singing. Singing with Denzi. Standing so close I can count the beaded silver bracelets stacked on her arms from wrist to elbow. Standing so close I can smell her spicy perfume and see her sunflower earrings.
Jasmeer steps up close to us, snapping photos. Vanessa is there too, shooting video. Throughout the theater flashes go off like fireworks.
I try to blend my voice with Denzi’s. It feels easy and right, like we’ve tapped into some universal vibration. Denzi is harmonizing on higher notes while I take the lower, and it sounds like we’ve been rehearsing for weeks!
Denzi starts dancing, and I follow with ease. Nothing fancy, just totally free. When we’re done, Denzi grabs my hand and we bow together. The thunderous applause goes on and on and on.
Take that, Sweetland Singers.
Eighteen
After the final curtain call with all the performers crowded onstage, Denzi takes my arm and leads me down the steps into the audience. Fans fall in beside and behind us, gushing words like “fabulous” and “fantastic!” I’m not sure if they mean Denzi or me or us singing together. But who really cares?
“Oh my god, thank you so, so much,” I babble to Denzi. “That was awesome, the best thing I’ve ever done, and I love your music and—”
“You bet.” Denzi cuts me off before I make a complete fool of myself. “Maxine was right. You’ve got raw talent. You could have a great career ahead of you.”
“Seriously? You really think so?”
“You’ve got the voice and the stage presence. Lots of potential.”
“Thanks!”
“But it takes more than that. It takes a whole lot of dedication. You need to be prepared to work hard.” Oh, I am. Believe me.
We reach the lobby, and the crowd following behind forms a circle around us. Denzi accepts a pen from a fan and then she’s busy signing programs and posing for pictures. It’s like I’m not even there.
I search the lobby for Maxine. She’s swarmed too, but I push to the front of the line. “Excuse me,” I say as I grab her arm and pull her off to the side. “I just need to talk to Maxine for one minute.”
“Hey, congratulations,” Maxine says. “You were wonderful.”
“Thanks, but I have to ask. You told Denzi about Farmshine?”
“Yes, as I said onstage. Why do you ask?”
“But did you know she was coming?” It’s hard to keep a quiver of anger out of my voice. Because if Maxine knew and didn’t tell me…
“No, Paisley. Just like when those guests came back early to Riverside House, I didn’t know. Denzi told me she couldn’t make it. I was just as surprised as everybody else when she showed up.”
Should I believe her? And does it even matter?
“Honestly,” she says. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But you might have thought I’d be too scared to go on if I knew.”
“If I knew, I would have told you and we would have talked about it, so you could be prepared.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
“The most important thing to remember is that you dealt with it. You were prepared and professional.”
Yes, I was. I really was. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Maxine. For everything.”
“My pleasure, Paisley. I look forward to watching your career unfold.”
Maxine looks across the lobby at Denzi, who is trying to escape from her fans to her waiting limo. She makes a “call me” sign at Maxine before her fans chase her right out the door, cameras and phones flashing.
A volunteer who’s been standing back, waiting patiently for us to finish talking, reaches her phone forward and says, “Can I please get a selfie with you, Silver Spinner?”
I leave Maxine to her fans and go find Jasmeer.
“Yay!” she says. “You were amazing! I had goose bumps.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe I sang with Denzi!”
“Too cool,” Jasmeer says. “And we sold out of cards and cookies. Oops, heads up. Here come your parents.”
I turn to see Mom and Dad pushing through the crowd. “Hi!” says Jasmeer. “Wasn’t she just awesome?”
“Yup,” Dad says, hugging me. “She rocked.” He hands me a mixed bouquet wrapped in paper printed with sunflowers. “These are for you, superstar.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
My eyes meet Mom’s. “Congratulations,” she says as she comes in for a hug too. “Excellent performance. And I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but maybe pop is right for you.”
What? I’m speechless. But I hug her back.
“If you were nervous, it didn’t show,” she says. “And you were really brave to keep singing after that woman barged in.”
Have aliens abducted my mother? “Thanks!” My voice trembles with emotion. “That means a lot to me.”
Mom scans the lobby. “Now where is that MC? I want to meet her and thank her for helping you.”
“You mean Maxine? She’s around here somewhere.”
“Well, maybe I’ll catch her later. Look, there’s Elaine Winton,” Mom says. “Over here!” she calls across the noisy crowd.
Ms. Winton glides toward our group. “Well done,” she says to me. “Very impressive.”
My mouth drops open. “Um, thanks. And I really liked your singers. Especially when they did the sunflower song.”
“Oh, they were just angelic,” Mom says. “That sunflower number was magical. And your soloist was fantastic! It’s too bad Paisley turned down the chance to sing with you.”
Ms. Winton looks from me to Mom and back, eyebrows raised. “Well, yes,” she finally says. “But it seems that Paisley made the best choice for her unique talent.”
I give her a nod of thanks. Maybe she’s not such a dragon after all.
“You know, I really think she did,” Mom says. “What a voice! And even if pop’s not my kind of thing, I’m so glad Paisley has music in her blood.”
And then Cadence rushes up with Heath. “Hey, Paisley,” she says. So I’m not Pissley anymore? “Coaching with Maxine and singing with Denzi?” She sniffs and wipes at her eyes. Is she trying not to cry? “How did you manage that?”
I smile and say, “Congratulations to you too, Cadence. Your solo was awesome.”
She ignores my compliment. “Are you planning to audition for the school musical?”
So that’s what she’s worried about. “You bet I am.”
“But there probably won’t be a part for a girl with such a low voice. I mean, they’ll probably want a soprano like me.”
She might be right. But maybe not. “We’ll see,” I say. “Nice flowers, by the way.” She’s holding a bouquet just like mine. Volunteers were selling them in the lobby at intermission.
“Oh, these are from Heath.” She pulls him closer to her. “He’s such a great boyfriend.”
I try to catch his eye, but no luck. Okay. Whatever. Because I sang with Denzi! And she said I have a chance at a musical career!
By the time Jasmeer and I get to the after-party in the Limestone Room, the food is mostly gone. A lot of people try to talk to me, but I’m done. I just want to go home.
Jasmeer calls early the next day. I’m barely awake. “Have you seen it?” she asks.
I’m still groggy and don’t know what she means. “Huh? Seen what?”
“Get on YouTube right now!”
I boot up my tablet. “What am I looking for?”
“Vanessa’s Farmshine video. It’s gone viral.”
I find it and see Denzi singing onstage with me. “Whoa.”
“Yeah, pretty amazing,” Jasmeer says. “And apparently we made a ton of money, even before Denzi’s donation.”
I wasn’t really listening to her. “I sound great,” I say. “Really great.”
“Of course you do,” Jasmeer says. “And if you come over this afternoon, we can go through the photos I took last night. I got some cool ones of you.”
“Okay, later.” I hang up so I can watch the video again. I know it’s just because of Denzi that it’s getting so many views. But still, it makes me want to finally post one of my own.
Time to get going on that whole lot of work and dedication Denzi mentioned.
If I can sing onstage, I can do anything.
Acknowledgments
With deepest thanks to my family, and to everyone at Orca, for everything.
JOCELYN SHIPLEY has written several books for teens, including Impossible and Shatterproof. Her award-winning stories have been published in newspapers and anthologies, and her work has been translated into many languages. Jocelyn lives in Toronto, Ontario, and on Vancouver Island. For more information, visit jocelynshipley.com.
One
“Got a mirror or something?” Elle’s manager, Bernie, asked as they stepped out of the elevator for their meeting with the label execs. Execs, not executives. Bernie said it was important to know the lingo.
Elle was holding a guitar case, switching hands frequently to keep the guitar between her and Bernie. Like a shield.
He pointed at Elle’s hair. “Must have been the wind out there. You’ve got a few wild strands on the left side, and that black stuff is clumped a little on your eyes. Mascara or eyeliner? Either way, you need to fix it.”
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