TIME: 4 PM

Two more hours to go. 

That’s two more hours of pretending to be focused enough to try to tackle the mountain of homework that piled up throughout tech week. That’s 120 more minutes of downing hot drink after hot drink, which, to my chagrin, I realized earlier in the year does nothing for my throat or voice besides trick them into feeling capable of actually, you know, singing. 

“Grande hot vanilla latte with almond milk, please.” 

Caffeine—To get me through final bows. I know, I know! It’s 4 in the afternoon! Don’t judge...my jam-packed week has consisted of class, work, and running on an average of five hours of sleep each night. 

“Grande hot matcha latte with almond milk, please.” 

No dairy—It increases mucus in the throat...plus almond milk is far superior. 

“Venti hot green tea with honey, please.”

Honey—Simple and satisfying. Coats the throat. Balances out the bitterness of oversteeped leaf-water. 

Venti—Size up? Yes. Regrets? Absolutely not. 

Hmmm...At this rate, I’m gonna run out of dining dollars. Next time, I’ll use the Yeti and Keurig. 

Obsessively check one more time. 

Shoes? Check. Hair and makeup supplies? Check. Sheet music? Who am I kidding...I’ve had these songs memorized for days now. Costume? Check. I hope Kaitlyn remembers to bring me my tights...Who knew nude pantyhose could come in 18 different shades? 

One and a half more hours to go. 

Ok. Calm down. I can’t afford to start getting nervous so soon. Gotta at least try to get some work done. 

I think it’s time for a distraction. Soundtrack it is. 

“Is someone in the crowd the only thing you really see? Watching while the world keeps spinning round.” 

Oh great. Every attempt at distraction from the show proves to be in vain. 

TIME: 6 PM 

Call time. 

Thank God. The tights reasonably match my skin tone. I honestly thought it would be so much worse.

Eyeshadow. Ponytail. Jazz shoes. Like clockwork.  

“More sparkles?”

Deal. I wholeheartedly accept. Why not? I mean, come on, we’re all trying to stand out despite half of our faces being covered by black disposable masks. 

Oh great. My stomach is starting to growl. An unfortunate habit I picked up in high school is refraining from eating until after the show. Too many nerves. 

The good news? I won’t pull a Pitch Perfect Aubrey Posen and vomit all over the stage. 

The bad news? I’m hungry and headachey and... hungry. Already looking forward to dinner. 

Hmmm...Ahhh...Ya Ya Ya...PiCoLoMaNy...Dooby Dooby Doo...ViVaChe...Ooooo

A few days ago when we ran all of our vocal warm-ups in front of a bunch of unsuspecting college students trying to eat dinner, they looked at us like we were crazy. 

Tonight, opening night, I’m definitely feeling a little crazy.

I do converse with others, but it feels like I do more “hearing” than actual “listening.”

I try to relax and take my mind off of the show, but I can’t help myself from rehearsing over and over again.   

Oh my God. It’s happening. They’re starting. All of my nervous tells are coming to light.

Flushing face. 

Tightened throat. 

Cough. Clear my throat. Cough. Pace...

Cough. Bite my nails. Cough. Pace again...

Cough. Take a swig of drink #1, drink #2, and drink #3. Cough. Pace some more…

Cough. Clear my throat. Cough. Speed walk—

For the hundredth time tonight, I really gotta pee! 

There is so much to do. 

Mic check. Chair set up. Sound check. Stretching. Last-minute notes.

There is so much to be excited for. 

Unveiling our hard work. Performing in-person again. Seeing my friends out there in the audience. 

There is so much to be nervous about.

Messing up. Sounding bad. Seeing my friends out there in the audience. 

And now, the doubts and pressure are creeping in. 

I haven’t performed in nearly two years. I’m surrounded by musical theater majors who don’t seem to be nervous at all. I don’t want to look weak or like I don’t know what I’m doing.

I have to hold my own. 

I have to remind myself that I’m not weak and do know what I’m doing. 

I have to make Ella, Carolyn, Kaitlyn, and Lucy proud. 

I have to...have to...have to...do something! Anything! Anything at all!—

“Doors are opening. It’s showtime!” 

Oh. My. God. 

TIME: 8 PM 

Showtime! 

I remember this feeling. I remember loving this feeling. 

And I get to re-feel it again tonight. 

The crowd quiets down. The lights go up. 

For a minute, it is silent and still, as everyone collectively breathes together and drinks in the anticipation. 

Go time. Now or never. Backstage. 

“Break a leg, Maddy! You’re gonna do great!”

“Thanks, Carly! You will be amazing!” 

And then it all begins. 

The Pit flies into the opening melodies, harmonies, and rhythms of “Another Day of Sun.”

I take my place: in the back, ready to surprise the audience by belting and sashaying down the center aisle. 

I’m hot and simultaneously cold. I’m buzzing with excitement and bouncing with jittery nerves. I’m fully invested in the moment, for once, not caring about the past or looking towards the future. I’m fully connected to the environment and the people within it. That’s the beauty and nature of theater. 

Strangers, within the same space, have the privilege of experiencing collective emotion within a shared story and a unique sliver of shared, unrepeatable moments of time. 

So this is what it feels like to be most alive. 

Go time. Now or never. 

Our voices take flight, and our bodies fall in line.

The opening number—the one that features everyone together and sets the tone for the rest of the evening—instills our cast with energy, power, and fervor. 

And the rest of the cabaret follows suit.   

Another Day of Sun 

Planetarium 

A Lovely Night 

Engagement Party 

Herman’s Habit 

Someone in the Crowd

Mia and Sebastian’s Theme 

Start a Fire

Audition 

City of Stars 

We sing. We dance. We smile incessantly. 

We spin. We jump. We skip and try to catch our breath. 

The nerves gradually evaporate into thin air. 

Costume changes. Mic switches. Props to handle. 

Mistakes? Yes, many. Salvageable? Absolutely. 

The drums beat, and the trumpets blare.  

We know we’ll make people laugh. We hope we can even make them cry. 

There are glorious moments of uproar, when time is a blur and cheers are abundant.

Other moments make time stand still. You would have heard the sound of a pin drop. 

Our passion carries us from number to number, and, most importantly, 

We’re having fun. 

I am happy. 

TIME: 9 PM

Final bows. 

The first curtain call I’ve done in two years. 

As always, everything truly came together and turned out just fine. 

A success! 

And the best part is that we get to do it all again tomorrow. 

But, for now, it’s time to pack my bag. 

Give hugs all around. 

Bid my directors good night. 

Eat a decent meal. 

And let my head hit the pillow with proud memories of a lovely night and hopeful wishes for just another day of sun. 

December 2021