Perry Joyce and John Marshall in the secondary piano duet. My eyes widened. Perry walked on stage, like the other few dozen winners, carrying the shield. I sat in the wings, watching him.
Call me bitter, but I felt pretty upset with myself for not being up there with him. I spent a lot of tears and many, many hours practicing, and for the pure and simple reason that I missed rehearsal, I hadn’t known when to walk on stage. There wasn’t enough room in Dr Braham’s car to take us to the Hall for practice, so he asked me to stay behind and stick close to Perry for the real thing. This I could not do, for I didn’t see Perry until the intermission, two hours into the concert.
What really cut is when they all walked back on stage at the end, and Perry neglected to tell me of this. So for the second time in the evening, I sat in the rafters up the back of the hall and watched him be acknowledged for his talent. It wasn’t so bad, because she just read out the list of all the winners, and they all sort of filed on so you couldn’t tell who won what. Hell, I didn’t even care that I won until I realised I wasn’t going to be recognised for it.
Ah well. I got my name read out on the list of winners, and I pulled it off, even when my teacher withdrew all confidence in me. It took a lot of effort to play, and my name’s on that shield. That’s something to be proud of.
There we go! Dream accomplished. I guess that’s what happens when you put your mind to something. Although I didn’t get the glory, it was definitely worth the pain. Nice job, Johnno. Give yourself a pat on the back.
[Note. I was originally quite upset when I started writing this entry, but now I feel quite proud of myself. Hooray to pep talks! Or summat. Ahh, that’s better. =)]