M. MANDEL ♡

Stage Flight

Personal Essay (scrapped)

Stage Flight

by

Merav Mandel

CHARACTERS

SETTING

USY Encampment, main gathering hall. The space is large, and arranged with benches facing the stage. It looks like one would expect a summer camp stage to look: mostly bare-bones, wooden, small. A portion of the stage extends forwards to make a T shape, and a standing microphone is positioned center stage.

TIME

August 2016, Thursday evening. The talent show.

ACT I

SCENE 1

(A PERFORMER is finishing up an act on stage. The audience claps, and CAMP COUNSELOR walks up to MERAV.)

CAMP COUNSELOR

(Whispering.)

You’re on deck. Break a leg.

(CAMP COUNSELOR walks off.)

MERAV

Ah- Uhh- Okay-

(MERAV stands up.)

CHASE

(Whispering.)

Break a leg! Don’t worry, you’ll do great.

MERAV

(Whispering.)

Thank you.

(A PERFORMER prepares themself for their act as MERAV walks up to the stage. It is not yet her turn to perform, but as the PERFORMER begins their act she is all too aware that hers is about to begin.)

MERAV

(To self.)

Ahh- What are the words again? I thought I had more time- The tune, at least? Umm… It goes like this right? 

(The PERFORMER finishes their act. They exit, and MERAV walks anxiously onto the stage. She hesitantly picks up the standing mic.)

MERAV

… … …

(MERAV takes a breath. She is small compared to the stage. There is a spotlight shining on her, standing all alone on that suddenly large stage, and all eyes are on her. She does not know how many pairs there are, but she feels knowing will only worsen her anxiety. She begins to sing. Probably some edgy VOCALOID song from the early 2010s. Think Neru, with English lyrics translated by JubyPhonic. There is no backing track, only her quiet, shaky vocals. Suddenly, MERAV stops.)

MERAV

Umm- Sorry- I-

(A few people in the audience yell out in encouragement. Some wordless cheers, and other phrases like “you’re doing great!” or “keep going!” They all fall on deaf ears. MERAV takes another deep breath though, and restarts. The pauses between phrases are suffocating. With nothing to fill the air, all she can hear is her increasingly erratic breathing. She can’t remember the next set of lyrics. There are maybe four counts until the next phrase begins—not as if the audience is aware—and she is quickly running out of time to recall them. One count. Two count. Three count. Four.)

MERAV

… … … I’m sorry.

(Exit MERAV.)

She could hardly hear herself think. The blood was rushing to her head, panic driven adrenaline carrying her off the stage and out of the wooden building. She needed some air- To catch her breath, even if just for a brief moment. Or, maybe that was just an excuse. She didn’t want to be seen right now. Didn’t want to so much as be acknowledged, right now. And as she grew aware of the stinging sensation coming from the corners of her eyes, it was all too late as her vision began to blur and warm tears began to fall.

This had never happened before.

Sure. Maybe this was her first time standing on a stage alone, and maybe it was the first time she had ever chosen what to perform herself, but she was used to this-! She should have been used to this!