Chapter 1 #3
“What? Why? Did something happen?” Obviously, it’s something bad if she’s willing to skip the trip. That would explain her pale face too.
“You need to go for me,” she says, ignoring my question.
I shake my head vigorously. “No way, no. What’s wrong? Is this something about your family?”
“No, I . . .” Sophia bites her lip. Her optimism from the meeting earlier has evaporated. “Food poisoning, I suppose. I thought I had it under control, but I just went to the loo, and nope. I can’t be going on stage like this. Let alone taking a train.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine by tomorrow, I . . .”
“You have to do the presentation.”
“Ramon could go! Or Nataly! She’s great at presentations.”
“She didn’t do the programming. You did.”
“But you were doing fine just minutes ago! I bet you’ll have everything under control in a bit, and . . .”
“Lara.”
“I can’t do public speaking.” I can feel my heart beating in my throat.
Suddenly, I wish this had just been something about the demo.
Something I could have fixed with a few hours’ overtime and a few lines of code.
There’s no way I can go up on a stage and present in front of people.
A year ago, I couldn’t even open my mouth during team meetings.
I was too scared of skeptical glances or even laughter, like I used to get.
Just imagining presenting Novel Haven to a group of strangers sends my heartbeat into a gallop, and in my mind’s eye, I can see the laughing faces of my class.
“You can. You do that here every day.”
“That’s different, you’re . . . you.”
“Those folks are all nerds too, only from other studios. Please, Lara. We need the funding.”
“I know, but . . .” My eyes start to burn, and I blink rapidly before Sophia can notice.
All I need now is to start crying in front of her.
How grown-up of me. I’m twenty-five, damn it.
Shit, shit, shit. How can she suddenly be this ill?
Don’t stomach problems take longer than this to develop?
“What if we go to the doctor? They must have something for food poisoning, right?”
“Lara . . .” Sophia sighs, and suddenly, there’s determination in her green eyes. I’ve clearly just said the exact wrong thing. “I think this is a great chance for you. Exposure therapy. Nothing terrible will happen; you’ll see. Miley Cyrus has a low, husky voice too, and people think it’s sexy.”
“People make memes and funny TikToks with Miley’s voice, comparing her to a barking dog.”
“Well, you’re definitely on the wrong side of TikTok then,” Sophia replies.
“I can’t do this,” I tell her for the third time.
My throat is so tight that I can still feel my heartbeat in it.
If things were different, I might have laughed, because I can’t be further from Miley Cyrus.
She’s famous and rich, and millions of people love her voice.
She even tops the charts regularly. But my voice is the opposite of sexy; it grates in my throat and my ears, it keeps breaking like I’m a pubescent kid, and as if that’s not enough, I get this nervous tic where I check that my sleeves are pulled low enough to cover all my burn scars about a hundred times per minute.
“Well, I reckon that’s it then for the prize money and the sound design, and I suppose we can forget our trade-fair appearances this year too.
Nat is definitely getting a part of her social media budget slashed.
What a shame.” Sophia closes her laptop.
“I need to go home. Let me know by three p.m. whether I should give the organizers your name and buy you a train ticket. I believe in you, and I know you’ll do an amazing job, just like you’ve done with Novel Haven so far. ”
The lump in my stomach feels like it weighs a ton now, and it’s making me nauseous.
But the prospect of Novel Haven, my labor of love, not living up to its potential because of my cowardice is even worse.
Sophia’s done so much for me; everyone here has.
I owe it to them just as much as I owe it to the game. And to myself.
“First class.” My voice is barely a whisper, but the words are out.
“What?”
“I want a first-class ticket.”
Sophia smiles at me. “Absolutely. I’ll send you a complete list of all participating studios. You’re going to rock this, just you wait.”
I return her smile, but the corners of my mouth tremble, and the nausea is so strong now that it might as well be me coming down with food poisoning.
I say goodbye, forget my coffee on her desk, and run to the bathroom, ignoring Aria’s and Nataly’s inquisitive stares.
I lock the door before they can come hurrying in after me and brace myself against the sink.
The cold water trickles over my wrists, but it does nothing to calm my racing heartbeat.
My hazel eyes stare at me fearfully from the mirror, and I’m even paler than Sophia, my skin creating a sharp contrast against my dark hair.
Somewhere behind the fear, there’s a stark certainty in my gaze.
I’m going to fail.