Chapter Text
Laurie tapped the mic, listening as her voice echoed back at her through the empty stadium, a much larger venue than the field she frequented in middle school. The sound crew was still adjusting levels, but even with the reverb, it was a million times better than the tiny venues she’d been playing for the past couple of years.
She still couldn’t believe she was here.
“You’re tensing up,” Rochelle called from the stands, leaning back against the bleachers like she had all the time in the world. “Breathe, or you’ll sound like a robot.”
Laurie rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the support.”
“I’m just saying! This is, like, your biggest gig yet. Don’t psych yourself out.”
Laurie knew that. And it wasn’t that she was nervous—at least, not about the singing part. It was being here. The familiarity of a field, the distant smell of fresh-cut grass, the faded memories of a sport she’d never been good at.
And then there was the fact that they were still here.
The Pickles were on the field wrapping up their practice, which meant she had an audience, whether she wanted one or not. It had been a while since she'd seen anyone besides Rochelle after electing to attend Catholic school for 9th grade on, and she felt like a bit of an outsider. I mean, she wouldn't even be on the field if her dad hadn't pulled some serious strings with Peaks Valley High. Some of them had already noticed her—Kai had waved when she first arrived, and a few others had shot curious glances her way. But one pair of eyes lingered a little longer.
Yuwen.
She caught his gaze for half a second before looking away, pretending to adjust the mic stand. It wasn’t awkward, exactly, but it was something. She couldn't help but think back to middle school, when he had turned down a Dairy Queen date and taken her backpack (a lowpoint for the girl, that's for sure). Her crush(?) was a thing of the past, totally back-of-mind, but she had to admit... he grew up. And he looked pretty dang good- at least taller?
And then a voice broke through.
“You sound great.” Laurie turned to see Taylor standing near the dugout, dressed in her Pickles practice gear, hands on her hips. There was no sarcasm in her tone, something she faced time to time at her own school. Just a genuine compliment.
Laurie blinked. “Oh. Thanks.”
Taylor gave a small nod. “Didn’t know you were into music like this. Pretty cool.”
Laurie relaxed a little. “Yeah, well. Turns out I needed something to do after retiring from my very successful softball career.”
Taylor smirked. “Hey, you had heart.”
Laurie snorted. “Not the same as skill, but I’ll take it.”
Before Taylor could respond, her dad called for the team to huddle, and she gave a quick wave before jogging off. Laurie let out a slow breath. Okay. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe people liked her. Maybe she was... kinda good? She turned back to the mic.
There was still a lot of work to do before the real thing.