Each performance took an entire day to finish. I’ve waited with everyone else, hoping for a miracle that my name, or someone deserving, will be called. Regardless of the outcome, another meaningful moment in my life lies ahead.
Mr. Melnard will see me tonight.
There are over a hundred people in attendance in the performance hall, waiting for the big winners and awardees to be announced. They stated that a special academic award would still be given to those who delivered outstanding performances. Still, only one from each class will advance to the finals—the one who would compete against St. Agatha Academy’s champion.
Lora and I are holding hands. She probably wishes for the same thing. Kristoff is quietly sitting on my other side, his gaze fixed on the stage. Not until Ben taps him on the shoulder.
“I’m feeling good tonight, man,” Ben whispers. But if I don’t win, an exemption to two major tournaments this year will suffice.
Kristoff grins. “You just want to skip classes.”
“...For an excellence award, under the Bachelor of Music in Performance, Major in Voice,” Ms. Corrigan, the female host, announces, “you will receive an A-plus in opera and vocal repertoire this year. Dianna Hastings!”
The people in the front applaud, and Dianna walks up on stage and gets a trophy and a certificate. She raises the symbol of her excellence, beaming at the audience.
“Congratulations, Ms. Hastings,” Mr. Baker, one of the hosts, says as he gives her the stage for a brief speech.
“It’s an incredible honor to be here. Thank you to my professors and Sebastian Records for this opportunity!” She showcases her trophy once more as she walks down the stage.
“Thank you very much, Ms. Hastings. Your song truly moved our dear judges,” Ms. Corrigan says. “Shall we move on to our next special award, Leo?” she asks her partner.
“Okay, Andrea! Let’s move on to the next one.” Leo Baker looks at the piece of cardboard in his hand. “For a Bachelor of Music in Songwriting excellence award, you will get an A plus in applied major and composition this year... Anya Scott and Maria Callahan!”
A huge sigh of relief escapes my lips. My friends applaud me, but my surroundings become muted. I can’t decide whether I should be happy or sad, but I don’t have time to think about it.
Being announced early in the award ceremony meant I didn’t get to the finals.
“Seriously?” Lora hisses at me. “Saint Maria?”
“At least we know she didn’t win the grand prize,” Kristoff says.
I smile at her and accept both my victory and defeat. “I’m exempt from two majors this year.”
“Oh, man,” Ben bemoans.
“Congratulations! You deserve it.” Lora hugs me.
I giggle. “It’s time to go.”
I raise my head, then notice Maria smirking at me. We walk toward the stage.
“I guess we’re even now, Scott,” she says.
“Not so fast. I still won last year.” I give her a sly smirk. I feel her step slowing down, so I walk past her to get to the stage.
I put on my best smile as I accept my award and then face the audience and the judges. I look around for Julian, but the stage lights blind me.
I just don’t know how to give a speech. But Maria interrupts and starts talking.
“I worked harder than anyone else, so I deserve this award. God, I’m so talented!” She then gives the audience a flying kiss before dropping the microphone.
Seriously? Is she running for office?
Why does she have to be such a bitch all the time? Lora welcomes me back to my seat with a bear hug.
“An award is still an award. You won’t have to go to two classes until the end of the year, and your grades are guaranteed.”
Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all. Not winning means I still have a lot to learn. It isn’t the end of the road for me.
“Yeah. We’ll just have to wait and see who the big winner is.”
We sit down and focus back on the stage. “You’re still the winner for me,” Kristoff says over my ear.
I grin. “Thank you, Kris.”
“I mean, you still have Peter’s offer, right? What did I say before? It’s all about chances. You have more of that, so we give it to others.”
My grin widens. “You’re right.”
For yet another reason, I am more satisfied with the outcome of tonight’s event. As the award ceremony progresses, the hosts continue to read off names. Ben Eastwood is our grand champion.
***
“Congratulations, Ben!” That’s all I ever heard from my classmates after the event. He makes excellent music. He’s one of the best in class, and many professors agree, so he deserves to win.
“Let’s party tonight!” Ben yells in the hallway outside the performance hall while holding up his trophy. “Place, food, and drinks are on me!” Half of the people in our class follow him to the exit.
“I can’t come tonight,” I tell my friends. “But you two can go.”
“Why? Do you have other plans?” Kristoff asks. “Let’s celebrate your award.”
“Yeah, but I have somewhere else to be,” I explain. I’m afraid I can’t tell them that just yet.
“Will you be okay?” Lora asks earnestly.
I chuckle. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“A date with your boyfriend?” Kristoff raises his brow.
“No. Other plans.”
“Okay.” Lora drapes her arms around me. “We are so proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
Kristoff briefly hugs me, too. “Call us if you can go, okay? I’ll come to you and pick you up.”
“Well, I can just drive myself,” I say as I let him go.
“Of course.” He scratches his head. “I still don’t like it, but it’s a nice car.”
“Have fun.”
I take a different route after we leave the school. It’s past eight o’clock, so Mr. Melnard is probably already expecting me at the restaurant. My entire body tingles with excitement, and the pounding in my chest becomes audible as I get closer to the venue.
I’ll finally see a glimpse of Mr. Pitch—it won’t be him, but Mr. Melnard is my only link to my dear, generous benefactor. It’s a huge honor to finally meet the man.
At the restaurant entrance, the maître d’ greets me, reminding me of Harold from Le Papillon. I ask about a reservation made under Dean Melnard’s name, and he recognizes me and takes me upstairs.
“This way, miss.” He leads me to a table where a familiar man in a crisp blue suit is seated. “Good evening, sir. Miss Anya Scott has arrived.”
The man raises his head, and I realize now why he looks so familiar. We just met today in Whitlock. The panel who asked me that tricky question.
Jefferson Bryant is Dean Melnard.
He rises to his feet and extends his hand for a handshake. “Anya Scott. We’ve finally met.”