Chapter 19 #2
Zeb and I turn to scream with delight in each other’s faces.
We stood in nearly this exact spot last year when we found out neither of us were nominated, me still mortified from the shirt incident.
It’s amazing to be in the final six together, alongside Beth who was in the same boat as us last year as well.
‘I’m so happy for you!’ I say to Zeb, who parrots back to me, ‘I’m so happy for YOU!’ We grab each other and make our way to the front of the stage.
‘Of course those two are finalists,’ Oisín murmurs as we walk past him. ‘Feckin’ typical…’
But there’s no time for his negativity, Zeb and I keep a hold of each other. We grin like Cheshire cats with the rest of the final six as our photograph is taken, and then everyone is escorted into the wings so the solos can begin.
My name is pulled second from the hat which 314decides what order we’ll perform in.
There’s just Jas before I’ll have to go on stage and have a tricky conversation with Marty.
They give Jas thirty seconds to mentally prepare for her performance of ‘If My Friends Could See Me Now’, which will give her ample opportunity to let rip.
She heads out on stage with a power strut, and I find my gang assembled around me: Gabby and Zeb on one side, Ella and Tarun on the other. He’s got his guitar in hand, looking like he might be about to throw up.
‘Are you sure…?’
‘Yes,’ he replies quickly. ‘Well done. I’ll try not to fuck it up for you…’
‘You won’t,’ I reply. ‘You’re my secret weapon.’
‘What are you doing, Tarun?’ Ella asks, suspiciously.
‘You’ll see…’ he says, his shoulders relaxing a little.
‘What’s the sound situation, Zeb?’
‘All sorted,’ he says with a grin. ‘Told Nate what we’re doing and that I needed a guitar mic for the final six. He’s got it all set up in the wings, ready to go on when I give the order.’
I turn and see Nate, whose lip piercings gleam as he grins with a bunch of equipment at his side. I didn’t think he had the capacity to look anything other than deathly serious. ‘Nate… You’re helping us?’
‘Wouldn’t be right to let you have a queer revolution 315without the bi, trans guy pitching in, would it?’ he says, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘And I couldn’t say no to the cute science nerd anyway…’
I look between him and Zeb, who I think might actually be blushing. Maybe I’ve been completely blind to a whole other queer flirtation going on here.
‘Wow! Okay, well I can’t thank you enough!’
He shrugs, putting an arm around Zeb’s shoulder. ‘Pleasure’s all mine.’
Jas is approaching the climax of her song, so I turn and give the gang a simultaneous hug. ‘If it all turns to shit, at least I have you guys.’
‘Show ’em all who you are and why we love you!’ Zeb says in his most Scottish of accents, looking up at Nate with twinkly eyes.
‘I’ll introduce you, okay?’ I say to Tarun. ‘Wait here until I’ve sorted everything with Marty.’
‘Okay,’ he says with a nervous smile. ‘See you out there.’
The audience applauds for Jas, and I’m ushered forward by Lauren to stand ready.
‘Next up we have Oliver Redmond,’ Rob says, indicating for me to enter. There’s a smattering of applause and cheers, one of them distinctly Dad’s. In all the drama of my last-minute song switch, I forgot Dad’s out there, watching live. He’ll be buzzing.
As instructed by Lauren, I head straight over to the 316piano to ‘confirm the tempo’ with Marty. He’s panicked, frantically flipping through his folder of sheet music.
‘Olly, bear with me one moment. I don’t seem to have…’
‘There’s no sheet music. We took it out of your folder.’
His jaw tightens, the wind knocked out of his sails. ‘You did what?’
‘I told you earlier, I won’t hide the best part of me. Not for anyone. If that costs me the competition, that’s on me. I’m comfortable with what I’m doing. I’m singing “Safe from the Waves”.’
He swallows. ‘I don’t even have the sheet music for that one!’
‘I’ve found an alternate accompanist, seeing as you refused and tore up my music.’
‘This isn’t, uh, particularly professional, Ol.’
‘Maybe not. But “professional” is one of those words that’s bandied around to get people to comply with outdated ways of doing things.
What good is “professional” if I can’t look myself in the mirror after the show?
It’s awful what happened to you, but maintaining the shit, heteronormative system isn’t how we change things.
It isn’t how we make the industry – and the world – a better place,’ I say, feeling like Elphaba fighting for the animals, Jack Kelly the striking Newsies, and Ren for the right to dance in Footloose all rolled into one. 317
‘I … I wanted the best for you!’
‘I’m sure you thought you did. But I know this is what’s best for me.
I can’t live my life being ashamed of myself to please other people.
This song already inspired one person to feel comfortable enough to come out this week, and maybe it will some others once I perform it tonight.
You shouldn’t have had to hide who you are; I shouldn’t have to and nor should any future queer performers. ’
He’s stunned silent, so I forge on, ‘All I ask is that you don’t stop me. Let me bring Tarun on stage to accompany me on guitar, and we can make this right. Let me break the cycle, Marty.’
He thinks, looking between me and the audience, who must be wondering how complex my instructions for the pianist are after this long. ‘…I won’t stop you.’
He’s resigned rather than supportive, but that’s all I need. ‘Cheers. Be prepared for Gabby to surprise you as well…’
He rolls his eyes. ‘Oh, I can’t wait. I hope you don’t end up regretting this…’
‘I promise you I won’t.’
With a glance to the wings, making sure Tarun is still there, I head downstage, ready to seal my fate in the competition.318
Tarun
Standing in the wings, I don’t know if I’m more nervous for myself or Olly. He walks to Rob for the interview that each of the final six do before their song as Marty exits the stage. I hope the audience see the confident, charismatic Olly I know so well.
‘Congratulations, Oliver! Why don’t you tell us about yourself?’
‘Well, I’m eighteen, and I’m from Mytholmroyd, but most people don’t know where that is, so let’s say I’m from Halifax, or if we just want to lie, I’ll pretend I’m from Leeds. People have heard of Leeds, haven’t they?’
‘Oh, you never would have guessed that under the mask, the Phantom towering over the other finalists was this affable Yorkshireman, would you?’ Rob asks the audience, who laugh with approval. ‘A lad as talented as you wants to pursue musical theatre as a profession, I’m assuming?’
‘Since I was in nappies! I’m auditioning for drama schools in a few weeks, and I can’t wait. Ask any of the folks backstage, and they’ll tell you I’m the biggest MT nerd there is. It’s all I want to do with my life.’
Rob smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making that dream a reality after tonight. What are you going to sing for us?’319
Olly takes a deep breath. ‘I’ll be singing “Safe from the Waves” from The Merman.’
Rob looks down to his card, confused. He must have ‘Lucky to be Me’ written on there. The other contestants in the wings are surprised as well.
‘Is that so?’ Rob asks, with a smile. ‘Tell us why you’ve chosen this song.’
Olly’s calm and confident now. ‘This song means a lot to me. It’s about wanting to live in a world free of shame: pleasing only yourself, not the people who don’t matter. It’s a song for anyone who’s ever been made to feel they shouldn’t be proud of who they are.’
‘Well said,’ Rob says. ‘I can’t wait to hear it.’
I start to vibrate, knowing what’s coming next.
‘To accompany me, I’d like to welcome one of this year’s brilliant finalists who’s going to show us even more of his talents now. Please, can you all give a massive round of applause for Tarun Attri?’
This is it. With one last breath to ground me, I step onto stage, guitar in hand, and just about wave to the audience.
Behind me, Zeb must have given the command, because Nate and another ASM are arranging a tall stool, a guitar mic and a music stand for my phone around me.
Once I’m settled on my stool, my hands shaking, I give 320Olly one last nod before he disappears into character. I’m shitting myself, but I can do this for Olly.
‘Alright then! Let’s give it up for Oliver, accompanied by Tarun!’ Rob says before exiting the stage, leaving just Olly and me. The lights change to a soft, intimate hue, making Olly appear even more perfect than usual.
And once a hush has come over the audience, I start to pluck strings. It’s a surprise how loud it sounds amplified, each tremble of my fingers put under a microscope, but I close my eyes and think about how amazing it is that I’m doing this.
Olly starts to sing, and I’m less exposed. It’s our first duet, with Olly the star and me his support.
I follow the natural phrasing he gives each line, his voice delicate, drawing the audience into him. A pin drop could be heard all around the theatre. The way he communicates the words makes it feel like he’s right there next to you. There’s just you, him, and me on guitar.
When the song picks up, I follow the infectious energy Olly is using to paint the words and improvise intricate rhythms up and down the strings as he sings.
‘Pinned to the floor in the harshest of storms,
Whilst currents race past, I’m driftwood, no more.
My life can’t be here; I’m not safe in the sea,
I must breathe the air if I want to be me!’321
I’m comfortable enough with my playing that I open my eyes and take in the audience, who are with Olly for every beat of the journey he’s describing. They’re invested.
As he reaches the climax, his voice grows, ringing out around the entire theatre.
‘In the depths of the ocean I’m nobody’s friend,
Embraced in his arms, I won’t have to pretend.
The warmth of the sun draws me up to the shore,
Let me go start again with a man I adore.’
Tears fall down my cheeks and onto the top of the body of my guitar. The lyrics are even more resonant than I realised when I heard them on Wednesday. This is the song of him, of me, of all of us. I channel the meaning into my playing.
‘For he’s free from the waves, and to choose who to love,
If I’m safe from the waves, and live life up above.
‘I can start, find a way,
Take one step, come what may,
Face my fears from today!322
‘I’ll f inally be free,
I’ll open my lungs and at long last I’ll be…
Safe from the waves.’
The song finishes on the quietest, sweetest held note as my fingers float underneath him, letting him shine. It takes a moment for the audience to wake up from the spell the song has cast over them.
They finally applaud, and the whole room has fallen in love with him as much as the song. It was worth the fear of playing, the stress of his last-minute switch, even if he doesn’t win.
I belong on this stage next to him, if it means he can tell stories that shake open the earth and teach all of us something new about ourselves. This song was what he was meant to sing.