o Shadetree. It was kind of ridiculous how much I’d practiced, considering how casual this performance was going to be. This wasn’t some prestigious collegiate competition or audition, this was just a fun show at an art gallery. I’d done shows with far more pressure in the past, but this was my first real planned show since I’d started playing again and I was afraid I’d somehow drop the ball.
Melany did her best to calm down my tense nerves—before we left she gave me a back massage and asked if wanted a quickie, but I was too nervous.
“Kendra,” she told me as we drove to the gallery. “I want you to do something for me tonight when you’re playing.”
“Hm?” I said, distractedly, trying not to freak out when I saw that we were nearly there.
“First off, take a few deep breaths. You look like you’re going to pass out. Second… I want you to imagine that you’re playing for Dr. Adler.”
“What?” I coughed. “Oh, god. That’ll just freak me out even more.”
“I want you to imagine that you’re playing to prove him wrong. Think about all you’ve accomplished since you left. Think about the performances you’ve played that have gotten people on their feet and moving. Think about the last show at Shadetree, and how it moved the owner to set up a special show just for you guys to perform. Play like you don’t need his approval.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best.”
During lessons, I’d always played my best to show Dr. Adler I was good enough, but that was different from playing just to show him how good I was. One came from a place of hesitance— from needing approval—the other came from confidence and knowing I was good. Of course Melany would think that way and suggest that—she had to be one of the most confident people I knew. But could I do that? Could I play from a place of confidence and pretend I was shoving my performance in Dr. Adler’s face?
We rolled past Shadetree, which was already bustling with guests, and turned into the parking lot next door. Kaitlyn texted me to tell me that she, Brianne, Emily, and Margie were already inside.
“I… I think I’m going to wait in the car for a little bit,” I told Melany. I was too nervous to go in and be around the crowd. “I’ll wait till before the set to go in.”
“Okay,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I’ll wait with you.”
I smiled appreciatively, and she gave me a kiss. “You’ll be fine. You’re going to kill it tonight, I know it.”
“Thanks, Melany,” I said.
I texted Kaitlyn back to let her know I was going to wait in the car for a while to try and calm my nerves, and a short time later there was a knock on the window. It was Kaitlyn and the others.
“Hey,” she said, holding out a glass of red wine. “We brought you some liquid courage.”
“I appreciate it,” I said, “but I’m going to do this without any drinking this time.”
“I’ll take it,” Melany said.
We got out of the car, and Melany chatted with the group while I lay out on the hood and looked at the sky, which had turned a deep shade of purple. I could hear the sound of a violin and cello duet drifting out from Shadetree over the excited chatter of the guests.
Play to prove him wrong, I thought. Channel the things he made you feel into the performance. Let it all out.
I’d zoned out completely when Melany touched me on the shoulder. I turned to look at her, and she leaned over the hood of the car and kissed me. “Time to go in,” she said. “You guys are up soon.”
I slid off the hood and took Melany’s hand. The group was still gathered in the parking lot chatting. Everyone looked so relaxed.
“You guys didn’t need to wait out here with me,” I said.
“It’s too noisy in there,” said Margie, Brianne’s girlfriend. “We snuck enough wine out to have our own party.”
“Yeah,” Kaitlyn agreed. “We have time to check it out after the set. I’m with you, anyway. Being in there will only make me nervous. I needed to calm down a bit.”
It made me feel better to know that I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
The illustration work from the last show had been replaced with a mixture of fine art paintings, pottery, and photography, all done by local artists. We went to the outdoor area, and I could see my drum set sitting up on the stage, gleaming like a beacon in the lights. My heart pounded so heavily I felt like I could hear it over the sound of the crowd.
We went up on the stage, and I took my place behind my drums. I rubbed my palms on my shirt, but they seemed to immediately clam up again with more sweat. No problem. You aren’t going to screw up.
I picked up my sticks and tested out each of my drums as Kaitlyn greeted and addressed the crowd. Just like last time, people seemed to be only half interested, and most of the guests were chatting amongst themselves, enjoying the free alcohol. It was to be expected; we weren’t famous or anything, after all.
You can do this. Play with everything you’ve got. Play to prove him wrong.