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No Such Thing As Stage Fright
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No Such Thing As Stage Fright
A young girl joins a friend's band to become famous and learns how important friends can be.
[1,394 words]
Megan Swope
I am 16 years old. I enjoy cheerleading and hanging out with my friends. I also love to write.
[March 2001]
No Such Thing As Stage Fright
Megan Swope

Will told me I had the voice of an angel. He convinced me to join his band. It was him, Todd and Randy. They were my best friends. Girls at my school werenít like me. They were obsessed with cloths and fashion, make-up, boys and popular music. They cared too much what boys thought of them. They reminded me of sheep. They were all alike. They had no personality.

My choir teacher told me that I had the most amazing voice she had ever heard. She told me it sounded like tinkling bells. Wind chimes I hoped. The sound was sweet and innocent, so unlike who I really was. I was enrolled in choir on accident, and convinced to stay by the teacher. She was a sweet old lady and I pitied her. The choir wasnít all that great at my school, so I stayed for her, and because I liked it. I loved to sing.

Will and Todd were on the dance committee. They said because the school needed to have bigger variety in music. They signed up their band to play at Winter Formal. The dance was only a month away. Randy thought this was a terrible idea. He was the ever pessimistic sort. Everything was a terrible idea to Randy. He even tried to talk us out of it.

"We donít have a name," he protested.

"Yes we do," Will informed him. "In honor of our newest member, Wendy, Fallen Angel."

"Okay, so we have a name. Weíve never rehearsed with Wendy. What if her voice clashes with the music? Plus she doesnít know any of the songs we wrote," he continued.

"We have a month to work on them," Todd put in.

"Iím warning you, weíre going to suck," Randy complained.

"No weíre not, stop being so negative," Will sighed. "Besides we have an angel on our side." He put his arm around my shoulders.

Will and I were the closest best friends could get. We grew up together and lived next door to each other. Todd we met first, when he moved here five years ago, the we met Randy, who moved here three years ago. We wee all close, but considering our history, Will and I were the closest. The year Randy moved here was the year my father died, and of course Will was there for me. He was such a great friend he even came to the funeral to support me. When my mom got re-married a year later, he came to the wedding with me. My step-father thought that Will and I were too close for boy and girl friends and banned me from seeing him. I blew a fuse and ran away. When I returned fake daddy dearest had no say in my life and mom took her rightful spot in it. Needless to say, sleepovers at Willís ended when I returned.

I learned I could sing and found a great passion for in when I was enrolled in choir on accident. My teacher said it was fate we had met like that. She gave me solos I hadnít tried out for, so I knew she really did like my voice. Will, being my best friend, showed up to all of my concerts, which is more than I can say for mom and step-daddy from hell. Will said he would do it for no one else and I was grateful for him.

Mom hated that I spent so much time absorbed in music. She thought that music was a waste of time and didnít like the fact that I loved it so much. Thatís when I realized I wanted to be a singer. I wanted millions of people to know my name and hear my voice. I wanted to sing in front of thousands of people. I made the mistake of telling Will after my first concert and thatís when he started the band. He would do anything to make me happy. Luckily, Todd and Randy wanted to be in a band and had considered it before. Of course they hadnít considered me being the lead singer. I hadnít either, to tell the truth. Will knew I would do it before he asked me and signed the band up before he knew my answer. And of course, I agreed. This was my dream.

I wanted to be famous and would do anything to make that happen. Taking Will up on his offer could get me there, even if it was just a possibility. Still, Randy was right. I had never sung with them and we didnít know if my voice would clash or not.

"So, letís start rehearsing now," Will said reading my thoughts. "Weíll play the song once, then you can think about it, let it sink in and when youíre ready, weíll play it again and you can sing with us."

Todd handed me a sheet of music with the words scribbled on it. They started playing the tune and I picked up on it immediately. I had the ability to hear a piece of music and sing it in a way that made your ears lavish in the sound of it. I had the feeling this song could be a hit and listened carefully as they played it, imagining the way it would sound with my voice in my head. The sound and rhythm of the song was amazing, my voice would just be an attachment to something already sound-pleasing.

As the last cord hummed until it died, I ordered the boys to play it again.

"But donít you need time to think about it?" Randy asked.

"Do as she says," Will demanded.

And the song started again. I sang softly at first into the microphone Todd had set up for me. As the music grew in strength and volume, so did my voice. I used an array of pitches, making the song stand out from what was being played now-a-days. Again as the last cord lingered in the room, so did my voice. It lingered with the cord until it was gone.

For the first time since I had met Randy, he took off his pessimistic overcoat. "Weíre going to make millions."

I went shopping with Will the night of Winter Formal to get a costume for the dance. Will wanted me to stand out, the boys were all wearing black to "blend into the background, youíre the main attraction," as he explained. He wanted me to wear something white. So he and I agreed on me wearing black leather pants and a white tube-top. As we were leaving the mall, I caught a glimpse of a year-round costume shop.

"We have to stop there," I said, tugging on Willís arm. "I just have this feeling."

Reluctantly, he agreed to stop there. As I was looking around, I found white angel wings. The perfect thing to accent me and to illustrate the bandís name. It was perfect and bought it without a second thought and without consulting Will. I shoved the bag into another and followed Will out, knowing he didnít notice I had done so.

Todd picked us all up that night in his new Jeep and drove us to the hotel where the dance was taking place. We were already dressed and the dance had started already, but that had been the plan. When we got there, I disappeared to the bathroom to assemble the completion of my costume. None of the boys had realized I had brought a bag in with me. I heard the announcer call the bandís name and I went to a corner where I could closely see the stage, but no one could see me from it. I watched as the boys trudged on to it and watched as Will searched the crowd for me. I could see his lips move as he asked Todd and Randy, "Whereís Wendy?" Both shrugged their shoulders and searched, too.

I allowed myself a good amount of time to be "fashionably late," before stepping out from my peeping post. I stepped onto the stage behind Randy and his drum set, kissing him on the cheek for good luck. I walked to Todd and did the same, then Will. As I kissed him he whispered, "Donít be afraid to be good, Wendy. Donít ever be afraid of being you." Tears formed in my eyes as I hugged him and took my place at the front of the stage.

"Hi everybody, weíre Fallen Angel."



"I love this story!!! I think Megan has the potential to become an awesome author. I love the truth in it!!! Congratulations!" -- Dana .
"Great story from an awesome young author!" -- The Critic.
"Megan your story is soo great. I'm glade that they put it out there for eveyone to see one of your many talents. Love ya babes!" -- Dani, Los Altos, USA, CA.
"megan you are a terrific writer and i realy think she become a great author.Im realy happy for you.Congratulations i luv you" -- Kelly, mt.view, CA.
"Fuckin' right on. RIP Johnny Ramone! I knew a girl named megan. A sweet thing from cinncinati. Check out my piece, 'the five string'" -- jkpayson.
"Some good writing here, very well done. This is coming from another 16 year old, so, here's to you kid." -- Jack Brown.


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© 2001 Megan Swope
March 2001

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