In the sea of faces, there is no one who knows. Knows how much I put into this, knows how much I grew. Knows what I’m going through
I thought it would never come.
Even as I slip into the glittery white organza, I can barely believe it. My stage makeup is done, my hair styled. Backstage is a cacophony of costumes and bags haphazardly strewn around. I can barely hear my thoughts over the noise.
“My costume ripped!”
“My zipper, help!”
“Did someone see a black bag? No, not that one!”
Aviva sidles up to me. She looks like a dream, her blonde tresses bouncing lightly. “Did they do your hair yet?” I ask.
“Obviously! Don’t you smell the hairspray from 20 miles away?” She straightens a bobby pin. “Anyway, we gotta be ready soon ’cuz our dance is one of the first!”
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