Though it may sound flippant or
overwhelmingly sent iment al, I
t hereby declared t hat I was a lucky
person. I was lucky t o be grant ed a
t remendous amount of love from
t he people around me, t hose t hat I
would forever be indebt ed t o.
Among all fort unes, being friends
wit h Amanda would forever be t he
one t hing t hat I ?m t hankful for.
She was t here by my side when I
was angry, sad, happy - all kinds of
emot ions. Our relat ionship was not
special, it was just familiar.
Somet imes you are so used t o
somet hing t hat you never really
care or at least t ry t o underst and
why it ?s t here, but it ?s just always
been t here.
Amanda
I t hought we could enjoy t he t rip t o
New York. Well, at least L uke did.
He fit right int o t he chaot ic mess
of t he cit y. Tall handsome lads were
everywhere t o be seen and L uke
was just anot her one of t hem. I t
seemed like he had planned t his
t rip t o t he last det ail, coming up
wit h a handful of act ivit ies t o do
every single hour of t he day so t hat
no minut e could go t o wast e.
From day one, L uke began
performing on t he st reet and he
definit ely st ood out among t he
crowd. Funny enough, it was his
yout hful high school charismat ic
look t hat at t ract ed people rat her
t han t he act ual music it self. At
first I offered him help wit h t he
performance, saying t hat I would
pret end t o be his fan who was
mesmerised by his songs. But
gradually, as t he crowd got bigger,
my presence no longer felt
import ant . W het her I was t here or
not , he would be fine. Around
t went y minut es lat er, I t ook my
leave.
L at ely, somet hing had been
bot hering me and I hadn?t found
out yet what t hat was. Ever since
L uke declared his unexpect ed
passion for dancing and singing, I
was left alone feeling unguarded,
insecure and anxious. Seeing a
friend walk a specific pat h when I
st ill had nowhere t o claim home
was t he single sit uat ion I most
want ed t o avoid. I felt t erribly
uneasy and cowardly whenever we
hung out . I couldn?t t ell him I was
jealous of him nor was I able t o
confess t hat I couldn?t find my own
passion. L uke kept on narrat ing
his fabulous singing career and I
couldn?t bring myself t o t ell him t o
shut up. ?W hy does he have t o be so
det ermined??
I
somet imes
wondered because he was making
me feel st upid.
me.
Our amicable relat ionship was a
double- edged knife. I t was good
having him around, but at t he
same t ime it was immensely
irrit at ing seeing him so passionat e.
I looked at my life, reflect ing on
event s and hobbies I had once
considered my passion. Well, none
of t hem meant much t o me
now.Walking on t he st reet of New
York on a rainy day, t he loneliness
made me realise how small and
unimport ant I was.
For six years, he locked himself in
t hat building, pract icing and
pract icing and pract icing. Family,
friends, hobbies, ent ert ainment ,
even food, everyt hing was removed
from his sphere of int erest . L uke
pract iced seven days a week, at
least t welve hours a day. Vocal
t raining, dancing t raining, act ing
t raining, he got t hrough t hem all.
His day st art ed at 5am and ended
around
6pm.
On
days of
assessment or evaluat ion, he would
st ay up all night in t he pract ice
room reviewing t he same dance
rout ine over and over again.I once
visit ed L uke at his pract ice room
at around 3am. The handsome
likeable high school boy was no
longer t here. St anding in front of
me was a pale lifeless ghost I
wouldn?t dare t alk t o. L uke wasn?t
just dancing, he was rot at ing in
madness. This was t he life he chose
t o t ake, t his was t he life he was so
passionat e about . Or was it just
anot her life t hat he couldn?t
cont rol? I somet imes wondered
whet her he realised t he happiness
he had been forcing himself t o
believe in was just anot her art ifice
of his desperat ion. L uke was st uck
in his own hallucinat ion.
L uke
At last , my dream came t rue. I was
now a st udent of t he Yeagers
School of Art . One could never
claim t o have been t ort ured by
nerves unless he had been t hrough
t he universit y applicat ion process.
Nervous wouldn?t be t he right word
t o describe t his st at e of emot ion.
The feeling t hat I had back t hen
was more like const ant agit at ion.
The building was modern and
graceful. Perfect ly angled and
locat ed, Yeagers would be forever
t he epit ome of my dream school.
Though excit ed, I felt uncert ain.
At t his point in life, I couldn?t say
for sure whet her I had made t he
right choice or not . Yes, dancing
was my passion. Yes, singing was
my dream, but t he quest ion
remained: Do I belong here? Do I
really want t his? The myst ery
remained unsolved.
The moment I st epped int o t he
building, I knew t hat I had
volunt arily punished myself t o a
hellish life, a life wit hout freedom
and ent ert ainment . There was only
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86
The next six years were gone in a
flash. I n all honest y, no words could
describe t his t errifying experience
ot her t han unforget t able and
unrepent ant .
Amanda
Wat ching L uke pract icing, I swore
I was no longer jealous of him. L ife
couldn?t have t urned out worse for
L uke. By all means I would avoid
t hat deadly dungeon: t he pract ice
room.
M y body froze t he moment he
looked at me. The look in his eyes
t old me t hat he was exhaust ed and
t hat he had been working
relent lessly or t he last t hree days.
At last he st opped t he music and
approached me, a fragile face wit h
t rembling legs and shaking arms.
He looked a lot slimmer. M y heart
ached a mile.