Performance Anxiety

I arrived at our rendezvous about fifteen minutes early. Sunny was already there with her bass and portable amp. As soon as she saw me, she smiled and energetically waved to me, beckoning me over.

“You ready?” I asked, opening my guitar case.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve performed live, so I’m a little nervous…”

I laid the guitar case out in front of us. “I’m sure you’ll do fine! Wanna get right into it?”

We plugged in our instruments and tuned up before jumping right into the first song. It was… alright. Musically, it sounded good, but something was missing. The magic that I felt when we jammed in my apartment wasn’t there. Was something wrong? Her rhythm and technique seemed to be fine, so what was the problem? I glanced over at Sunny. Her playing was stiff, not nearly as fluid as it was during her audition. She wasn’t into the groove. We came to the end of the song and I leaned over to her.

“Everything alright?”

“Just a little nervous, is all.”

“Want to end the set here?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay, let’s keep going. This is good for me. I need to get through this.”

We jumped right into the next song. Her playing was still stiff, but gradually, over the course of the set, she began to get more comfortable. Eventually, after three or four songs, I began to hear some of that passion that I heard during her audition. I snuck a quick peek over at her, and she was bobbing her head along to the music, like she normally does. Satisfied that she had gotten over her nerves, I went back to concentrating on my own playing.

Everything was smooth sailing for five or six more songs, until we came to the Parallax song that I usually like to end my shows with. Immediately, I could tell that something wasn’t right. It was as if all the progress she had just made at overcoming her stage fright had gone out the window. I glanced over at her and she was stiff as a board, once again. Her face looked as if she was fighting tears.

I wanted to ask her what was wrong, to see if I could do anything for her, but I couldn’t. We were in the middle of a song, the climax of our show. The climax. Shit, my guitar solo is coming up, I need to focus. Sunny’s playing is lacking passion, but at the very least, she’s keeping time consistently. It goes to show how much she’s practiced. Not just until she can keep tempo correctly, but until she can't keep tempo incorrectly, no matter how nervous she is. Focus. Sunny will be alright. She’s an excellent musician, not to mention that she’s been part of a band before. Surely she has coping mechanisms to handle her nerves.

Shit, I was too lost in thought. I missed my cue to start, putting me a note behind tempo. Once I managed to catch up, I immediately overbent the next note. One problem led to another, and my fretting hand and picking hand got out of sync on the final arpeggio, causing me to mute all the notes. All the energy that we worked so hard to build up had just evaporated into nothing. It was single-handedly the worst performance I’ve ever given.

As the song came to an end, I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at the disappointment on the faces of all the people who had gathered around to watch us. I didn’t hear groans of disapproval, like I had expected. I heard clapping. They were actually clapping for us. I guess that makes sense, punk rock isn’t the most popular genre, so most people probably don’t know how that song is supposed to go. They were probably just happy to be hearing live music. It’s just like when Sunny auditioned. She said she flubbed a note, but I couldn’t even tell, since I wasn’t familiar with the song she chose.

I pulled myself together to address the audience. “Thank you everybody! That’s all the time we have for today, but we’ll be out here again, so keep your ears peeled!” As they began to disperse, Sunny and I started packing up our gear. As she slipped her bass into its case, I turned to her and asked, “everything alright?”

“Not really.” I hadn’t noticed up until now, but she had begun to cry. How could I have missed it? I guess I was too distracted by the crowd, I felt awful.

Sniffling, she said, “I’m sorry. I ruined the concert.”

“No you didn’t, I played like shit in that last song, you heard it yourself. Jeez, that was embarrassing,” I chuckled.

She didn’t smile back. “You only played that way because you were worried about me, right? I saw you look over at me several times.” She lowered her gaze. “I bet you couldn’t focus at all.”

“It’s okay, it was just for one song… well, a few if you count the beginning.” I saw her expression begin to darken. “But everything in the middle was great! Don’t worry, the more we practice, the better you’ll get at overcoming your nerves.” I hurriedly exclaimed to try and fix my blunder.

“It’s not just nerves… It’s a long story…” she said.

“Want to talk about it over some food?” I asked, holding up the stack of cash we just made.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, wiping her eyes.

We sat down at the same diner we had our date at and gave the waitress our orders.

“I’m sorry, you probably want me to leave the band, don’t you?”

“What? Not at all!”

“But I just ruined the show.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” I held up the stack of cash. “Look at this. We just made 96 dollars. That’s more than I’ve ever made busking solo.” I elected to omit the fact that a two person act naturally draws more attention than a solo performer. “Even my best performances never brought in this kind of money. If that’s how much we bring in on a so-called ‘ruined’ show, just imagine how much we’ll make once we get into the swing of things!”

She cracked a slight smile.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, our next order of business is to assess what went wrong, and work to improve those aspects of our playing, so that we can put on an even better show next time,” I said.

She nodded.

I continued, “I’ll start. I was too worried about you. We’ve both practiced for so many hours to get where we are, and I lost my focus because I was concerned about you. If we’re going to be successful bandmates, I need to put more faith in you.”

She took a deep breath. “Alright, my turn. I was too nervous at the beginning, but that’s just because I haven’t played in front of an audience for a while. After I got into the swing of things, I was able to handle them.”

“What happened at the end then?” I asked cautiously.

“It’s that song. It brings back a lot of… memories for me.”

“Which one? The Parallax one?”

“Yeah, it brings back memories of my ex-boyfriend.”

I paused. Her ex-boyfriend. A pit welled up in my stomach. What is this feeling? Jealousy? Why am I feeling this way? I pushed the feeling down, right now, Sunny’s feelings are more important than mine. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked gently.

“Honestly, not really.” She sighed. “But for the sake of the band I think it’s best to get it off my chest. It’s the only way I can move forward.” She paused, seemingly unable to find her words.

I decided to step in and lead the conversation, so she wouldn’t have to reminisce on sad memories too much. “So he was a fan of Parallax? Is that why you don’t like them?”

“I never said I don’t like them. There was a time when I loved them, it’s just… difficult for me to listen to their music now.”

“Brings back sad memories?”

She shook her head. “Not at all, it brings back happy memories. That’s why it hurts so much. I remember all the good times he and I spent together, and it makes me sad that they’re gone forever.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t say forever, there’s always the chance you two can patch things up.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. It turns out he was kind of a shitty person, I just couldn’t see all the red flags through the rose-colored glasses I was wearing.”

I sighed. “Well, if that’s the case, there’s nowhere to go but forward.”

She nodded. “I know, that’s why I threw myself into joining a new band. I hoped that that could help me move on, something to distract myself with. Only it didn’t.” She began to cry again. “I’m sorry, I thought I’d be able to make it through that song, but no matter how many hours I put in, I still can’t get over my feelings. I’m just too weak.”

“No you’re not, don’t even say that! I don’t know all the details of your situation, but after hearing about what you and your brother have been through, I can tell you’re anything but weak. In fact, I’d go as far to say that you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

She smiled, wiping a tear from her eye. “Thank you.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do: I’ll take the Parallax song off the setlist for the time being, and I’ll try and find somewhere we can practice together. That should help to ease your performance anxiety.”

She looked at me in disbelief. “You’d really do all that for me? My previous band would never go out of their way like that.”

“Absolutely, you’re my precious bandmate after all.” She finally managed to crack a smile. I smiled back, “we’ve gotta have each other’s backs.”

After we finished the meal, I paid with the cash we made from our gig, and gave Sunny her cut of the profits. We said our goodbyes and headed off in separate directions. I arrived back at my apartment, tossed my gear on the couch, and flopped down on my bed. I took a moment to catch my breath. Catch my breath? Why was I having such a hard time breathing? I didn’t do anything strenuous. I only just now realized it, but my heart was racing. I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself. Fifteen minutes passed. Then thirty. Then an hour. It was probably somewhere around 3:00 AM when it finally clicked. Up until now, I’ve done my best to deny it to myself, but now that I know it’s a lie, I can’t keep up the façade. I’m in love with Sunny.