"Ten minutes," the familiar shouting of Jeremy busted through the air like a twenty-one gun salute. "Next performer, you've ten minutes."

Did Jeremy lose the papers for the list of performers again?

Harold groaned internally as he gave his students two huge thumbs up before bolted down the stairs of the stage eagerly almost tripping over the huge bulk of wire in front of him. He apologized to the students there and hurried his way down the flight of stairs that seemed to be endless.

As much as he appreciated Jeremy's perfection, why does the man have to arrange his performance right after his students? He was dying to watch them.

"Where's Kristal?" the make-up artist yelled between the crowds of performers, bumping into the dancer who dressed in swan-like attire. "Where's he?"

"I'm here! I'm here!" yelled Harold in unison, trying to prevent chaos from erupting. "Let me change into my outfit, first."

He would have preferred to watch his students' performance, but from his schedule, he had to miss it. Losing the dark blue coat he had been wearing, Harold turned to the closet to search for his attire. He picked up the neatly pack clothing bag, brushing the edges before heading towards the changing room. Upon reaching the quiet room, he heard the familiar music echoing above him and the sound of the dancer's shoes squeaked in sequence above him.

"Harl," called Tiberius, sending a knock on the door. "Harl, you in there?"

"Yup," replied Harold, slipping into the bright red and blue attire. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to stay in the front row with Becky to watch the performance."

Harold opened the door after changing and came eye to eye with his best friend who marvelled at how the clothing fitted him perfectly. It showed off Harold's perfect curves and muscles, making Tiby's square shoulders to stand high at his perfect design.

"I've got to look at you one more time before I let you out on stage," chirped Tiby, locking the door as he motioned for his best friend to sit down. "Zahid's performance was marvellous. No wonder you adored that boy so much."

Harold glanced towards Tiby's figure in the mirror and gave him finger shots.

"Told you," he said, sipping from the bottle. "It's worth watching. I am glad I managed to persuade Jeremy to place him as the opening. I mean the others are good too, but you know, the first impression lasts. I don't want people walking out of this event anyways."

Trying to form a perfect ribbon on his outfit, he stood up, ready to head over to his make-up artist only to have Tiby pressed him down like a play-dough.

"I'm not letting your make-up artist do your make up," said Tiby, whipping out a large make-up set from his backpack. 

Harold laughed at the pout Tiby put on and reached out to tap on his chin gently.

"It's..."

"Nope," said Tiby patting onto his shoulders. "I mean sure they are good but..."

Harold casted Tiby a smirk with a sharp glare since he knew the boy sure had been lying about his words about their make-up being good.

"Fine!" he exclaimed. "It's horrifying! Have you seen how he did the performers' make-up? I'm sure you have seen your students' ones. God, it's horrifying! They look like a bunch of rising dead."

Harold closed his eyes as he felt the brush across his eyelids, humming at the answer.

"Don't be so hard on them. They are all students. Apparently, Jeremy says it trains them to cooperate with each other at such intense time. Clearly, I'm violating that."

Tiby smiled, seeing confidence in Harold as he silently finished off the rest of the make-up that would match both Harold's performance and the music. Feeling satisfied, he applied a layer of lipstick on Harold's plush pink lips before patting onto his shoulders.

"There, done. You are all set," said Tiby proudly. "I know you are going to do well. Now, you are ready for the stage."

Harold

This is it.

Well, it's not the end, but a humble start for me again.

I watched Tiby disappeared backstage before sucking in the cold air around me. It was hard convincing Tiby to get off stage since he loved watching the dancers up close. I remembered watching him sneak backstage when we were younger to watch one of his favourite mentors who unluckily stopped dancing because of a car accident. We both adore him, but Tiby had always been the extra one.

Jeremy had been yelling for me for the past five minutes, trying to tear me apart from Tiby's pep talk, but fight me, no one gives better pep talks than Tiberius. I felt sorry for Jeremy's throat, handing him a bottle of honey juice that I managed to salvage before climbing up the stairs that tripped be once. He would have started nagging me, but thanks to Tiby's extraordinary make-up, he stood rooted in his spot with his mouth hung wide open, welcoming flies to breed in there.

As I stood by the edge of the stairs, feeling the cold air seeped through my clothing, I recall the last look I had in the mirror on the make-up. Thin icy lines scrawled across one side of my cheeks while the other had tiny beads of flames, raining down from my eyes. Those icy lines expanded from my scar as it bloomed into beautiful snowflakes at the corner. I knew Tiby had been a man of art. I could barely recognized myself in the mirror.

I had long forgotten the feeling of nervousness before performing on stage. I never knew it would be stressful. Even with the music blaring in front of me, the only thing I could hear was the sound of heart ramming across my chest as if wanting to hop out of its own confinement. It felt surreal to be up on stage again, to perform in front of so many audiences at such a large event.

The embroideries from my attire shown proudly under the dim spotlight shining across the dark curtains. I bounced myself in place a couple of times, mostly trying to calm myself down so I don't turn into jellies on stage. I spent five months perfecting my movements, but I only have fifteen minutes to show who I am and what I can do.

One might be able to watch this performance multiple times across different platforms, but I only have one chance to prove I am the best performer here after a long disappearance.

"Alright, Kristal, you are up in two minutes," alerted Ryan and disappeared like a ghost.

I never knew the flavour of strawberry lip gloss on my lips would taste so satisfying at such a nervous hour. Everything felt warm at that moment despite the temperature of the air-conditioner at its lowest. I watched the performers headed down from the stage with heavy breaths while some slumped themselves down right next to the stairs.

I needed to make this work. Those months of practices day and night regardless of its hour will never go in vain. I was positive that this time, I will be staying in this industry for the rest of my life. It's better to live life the fullest than to die with regret. Standing tall and straight, I stood in the middle of the stage as I watched the spotlights from the crowd began to fill my eyes, blinding me for a moment.

You can do this. You are going to make it. Prove yourself and be free!

I was happy to be back on stage. When the soft music swirled through the silent air, I positioned my right feet a little further and lifted my left arms to make a turn. It was a blissful moment, to be able to provide comfort to the audience watching the show. I felt alive. Concentration was my key at that moment. I didn't want to miss a step. My soul felt free as I leapt in the air, continuing the next choreograph. Closing my eyes, I made a double flip to the right as I heard the audience cheered in the background.

Fifteen minutes. That's what I got. It's like racing for your lifeline to prove what you can do before it ends. The soft violin that echoed through my ears did not allow my doubts to restrict my movements. As the gentle music slowly disappears, the crowd cheered, making my adrenaline to pump and urged me to put in my very best.

The next choreograph was rather risky. Two of my dancers were admitted to the hospital because they collided into each other for being too close while performing it.

I was joined by six back-up dancers as I let them hoist me up in the air. We worked hard to perfect that move. Jumping off from the first palm, I landed on the other with one foot, trying to not hurt his fingers. It wasn't easy, but through cooperation, we made it possible. We failed multiple times because of the imbalance. However, through each practice, we managed to pull the most perfect one for the night, sending cheers among the audiences while some whistled at the excitement.

As father's music transitioned to a quicker rhythm, I sprang down carefully. Just the last two minutes. It was my favourite among all if I would be given a chance to admit out loud. Father's music had different genres that totally matched to my liking. Perhaps, there was a reason why I had been his son in the first place. While the music reached its ending point, I made a full split before forcing myself up and ended the dance with a half split that mirrored the pattern of broken snowflakes as the flames shot up behind me.

In front of me, the audience cheered. I caught sight of both Tiby and Becky clapping excitedly in their sea. Tiby gave me a thumbs up and a flying kiss. The curtains that had been blue on the left and red on the right, coincidently matched my outfit. I bowed to my audiences before turning back to leave the stage. I felt satisfied. I brushed my palms across the plants placed at the corner of the stage before I disappeared behind the curtains.

I finally felt free.

Free from the confinements around me as I learn to walk out of those prison bars bravely.

This is not an easy process.

Dragging myself out of the dark walls and building myself up, it was a hard challenge. I must admit the pain of hard work yet what I fear most was losing myself to become something I never wanted. I don't want to look back ten years later and regret not taking the chance I was once offered. The affliction had been my strength now.

This is me.

I am Kristal and after years, I finally found myself. I learned that those events I have been through were there to teach me a lesson.

They were there to build me up, not to tear me down and I used them to love myself with each passing day.

Kristal, my dear boy, you made it. 

Word Count: 1928 words

Cumulative Word Count: 26,184 words