* * *

  Most people couldn’t understand why I majored in Voice, mostly because it scared the bejeezus out of me. Not all the time. I could sing with a group with no problems at all. Sure, I got a little nervous before a performance, but as long as there was someone singing along beside me, it was no trouble whatsoever. It didn’t have to be a large group either, I’ve done well with a quartet or even a duet. But something about singing anything solo sent my nerves into chaos. It didn’t matter if I was singing in front of a packed auditorium or a living room full of people at a karaoke party.

  If I knew I had a solo coming up, even in rehearsal, my stomach would tie into knots, and I’d get the shakes. If it got really bad, my upper lip would start to twitch while I sang too, or my eyes would start to tear. It didn’t usually affect my performance, but it turned me into a nervous wreck if I had too many solo spots lined up. At the same time, I wanted to sing solos in the worst way. Whenever a new piece was announced, I’d get a surge of desire to try out for it. Maybe it was a sick need to make myself miserable, or a masochistic streak, but I couldn’t resist signing up to try out.

  Apart from the jazz group that practiced twice a week, I had my one on one’s, the regular choir and the concert choir rehearsals to attend. They generally kept me busy most evenings. We were preparing for a performance in three weeks and would be practicing with the orchestra that night, which meant a double dose of stomach wringing nerves since Trent would be there.

  Trent was my biggest source of shame and embarrassment, and every time I saw him, I wanted to crawl into a hole and pull the dirt in over me to hide. He was the one guy to pay any attention to me in college, and I fell for him hard. I’d thought he’d fallen for me too, especially when he asked me to move in with him, and I blithely gave up my student housing to begin our new lives together. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as mutual, or I should say not as exclusive as I’d thought, because I found out he was seeing Bridget on the side.

  Since then I’d mostly avoided him, except when we had those joint rehearsals. Trent played the double bass, and I knew he also played an electric bass in a local band, which was how Bridget met him. I always thought that if I played by the rules and was as nice as I could be, I would meet a nice guy in return who would love me for who I was. At least, that’s the stuff they preach at you in Hallmark movies. I wasn’t feeling nearly so nice when he came into view that night.

  As if I’d had a jolt of espresso, my energy level shot up as the sun slipped from the sky. The sluggish boredom was replaced by an eager anticipation of being immersed in music, my true passion. I was glad to see the clumsiness disappeared as well, as I stopped crashing into things the darker it got outside. Finding my way to my spot on the risers, I loosened my scarf, suddenly feeling too warm. Discounting it as the lights, I smiled to Leona and Ivy, who I stood between on the stage. There was little time to chat before Professor Matthews arrived and called us all to order.

  “Thank you all for being here promptly,” he greeted us with a benign smile. “Before we get started on the new cantata, I would like to open up with auditions for the quartet piece O Occhi Manza Mia. Let’s start with the sopranos if you please. Come down, my little butterflies, right here down front.”

  I knew that part backwards and forwards, I’d been practicing it for the better part of two weeks at home. If I was picked for the piece I knew I’d be fine. It was a four part harmony with no solos, but in order to get there, I’d have to audition by myself. It was almost enough to keep me rooted to my spot, but Ivy gave me a little nudge.

  “Go on, Anja, you know you want to,” she whispered as the other three sopranos descended the risers.

  Teeth worrying at my bottom lip, I took a step forward, and then another, hurrying to be counted among the auditioners before it was too late. It was starting already - my hands were warm and sweaty, and I felt like I had hedgehogs playing leap frog in my belly.

  One by one, they sang a capella after being given a single note from the piano. There was a polite smattering of applause, and the next person stood forward to give their rendition of the classical piece. All too soon it was my turn, and I gave the Professor a fleeting smile as I heard my note being given.

  I couldn’t look at them.

  Focusing on the lights in the back of the auditorium, I began to sing. As long as I focused on that spot, I could do it. The music took hold of me then. I swayed lightly as I sang of my beloved, my voice swelling and falling with emotion, hearing the other harmonies blending in my mind. The last note hung in the air, seeming to fill the auditorium, though I knew it likely didn’t reach past the first section on my own.

  I drew in a shaky breath as I finished, eyes rapidly blinking as I focused on those around me again. I was mortified to find all eyes on me, the theater quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Was I so terrible not a single person thought to give me even a golf clap of acknowledgement? Swallowing in discomfort, I jumped when as a whole, they all burst into enthusiastic applause. Even the girls I’d been competing against clapped for all they were worth. One of them had tears in her eyes.

  Professor Matthews looked like he wanted to hug me, but settled for patting me on the shoulder awkwardly, announcing I had the part. Overwhelmed by the response, I nodded and murmured my thanks to the congratulations that surrounded me as I retook my place on the risers.

  “Wow, Anja, that was so amazing! Wasn’t it, Leona?” Ivy gushed.

  “It was so… so beautiful. It made me want to cry,” Leona nodded fervently. The other girls around me echoed the sentiments with excited words of praise as the group buzzed over my performance. Had it really been that good? It sounded fine to me, but I’d been so nervous at the time, I could hardly be the judge. After a few moments of chatter, the professor called the next group of altos down, and the tryouts resumed.

  “Looks like you have an admirer,” Ivy whispered.

  Looking up, I caught sight of a man standing in the rear of the auditorium, staring at me intently. Despite the shadows that masked half of his body, the piercing blue eyes arrested my attention. I knew him… I felt it in my bones, but from where?

  “Maybe he’s a scout from the S.F. Choral Society?”

  “Wouldn’t that be something,” I whispered back, unable to take my eyes off of him. But what were the odds a scout would happen to come on the one night I kicked booty on an audition? I wasn’t that lucky.

  “Maybe he wants to take you away from here to tour across Europe?” Leona giggled, and I saw the man’s lips quirk in response. Had he somehow heard us? A quick check showed there were no microphones anywhere near us, and with the singing going on, it was nigh impossible. I looked back to see if he was still following our conversation and there was no sign of him.

  “I guess he wasn’t all that impressed after all,” I sighed.

  “Someone else was though. Don’t look now, but Trent’s giving you the eye.” Ivy nudged me towards the orchestra pit, where my ex was indeed hoping to catch my eye with that smile he had… the one I’m sure he knew was almost irresistible. Almost.

  “I’d like to give him a black eye…” I muttered, feeling a little hot under the collar again. Stripping off my scarf, I tossed it to the side of the stage, out of the way. Weren’t vampires not supposed to be susceptible to hot or cold? Why did I feel like I was burning from the inside?

  “Anja! What’s come over you? I’ve never heard you talk like that before,” Ivy whispered, her brows drawing together in puzzlement.

  It wasn’t common knowledge that Trent was a lying, two-timing, sonofabitch. I hadn’t gone public with many of the details of our break up. “Let’s just say I’ve gone through some changes lately,” I murmured back, deliberately turning away from Trent’s gaze.

  The rest of the rehearsal went well. I was conscious of the fact that my voice was more powerful, and I had to make an effort to tone it down
to blend in with the other sopranos around me. Also, I had a tendency to reach an almost trance-like state whenever there was an instrumental break and I wasn’t singing. When it was all over, Professor Matthews waved to me.

  “Anja, I would like to speak to you a moment, if you please.” Here it came, he’d noticed I wasn’t paying as close attention as I should have been. Would he take away my shot at the quartet? “I know it is short notice, but I would like you to be a featured soloist at our next performance. I was thinking perhaps something by…”

  “I’m sorry,” I interrupted him before he picked up too much steam. “It’s not really a good time for me, Professor Matthews. I have a lot going on.” Understatement of the year... Even though it was a chance every girl in the room would kill for, I felt uneasy making any kind of commitment when I wasn’t sure I could deliver.

  “My dear, you have been given a gift from God, it is a sin to waste it.”

  What would he think if he knew the gift wasn’t from God, but from one of the damned? Not that I was sure all vampires were damned, but wasn’t it a well debated concept, whether or not vampires had souls? I was pretty sure if God was going to be ticked at me at the pearly gates, it would have less to do with squandering my ‘gift’ and more to do with becoming one of the undead.

  “I understand, sir. Maybe next semester would be better though.”

  “Anja… I know you suffer from stage fright, but look how beautifully you managed tonight! Here, I thought, she is finally breaking free of her cocoon and transforming into what she was meant to be!” He didn’t know the half of it… “If you keep putting off ‘til tomorrow what you should do today, someday there will be no tomorrows left, only yesterday.”

  Somewhere in there was a piece of advice to live by, but it was all too new, and that kind of stress was the last thing I needed. “Let me think about it, alright?” I already knew the answer, but I suspected that he’d accept my decision easier if he thought I’d given it serious thought.

  “Fine, fine, we’ll talk more at the next rehearsal,” he nodded, dismissing me.

  Released from that awkward conversation, I went in search of my scarf, even though I still felt hot under the collar, but there was no sign of it. “Who steals a scarf?” I muttered in irritation. Turning around, I nearly ran into the solid wall of Trent’s chest. “This night keeps getting better and better,” I frowned, not bothering to hide my displeasure.