FELIX

By Friday, our classes get cancelled, dedicating the day for the concert.

My band mates and I arrive school early to buy some time for a last-minute practice at the gym before the concert kicks off at noon.

It's not until this very morning before we finally decided to perform Jonas Brothers' 'Year 3000' after several series of deliberations in previous rehearsals.

We would've chosen a classic from the 90s, but greater population of students in the audience probably wouldn't know boy bands like NSYNC, LFO, or our one time favourite, Take That. Even though the Jonas Brothers are great; awesome poppy sounds, talented voices and they've got the good looks to top it off, as a group, we only fell in love with them right after we saw 'Camp Rock'.

"I was thinking, perhaps an instrumental would be perfect for an intro," Bryan suggests, sitting behind his drums and spinning sticks between his fingers. "What do you think?"

"That should work, but we don't have a second guitarist."

Wesley's response furtively builds a silly guilt in me, even though no one bothers to notice.

If we are going to play an instrumental intro, a harmonization of sounds with one playing over the other is an essential part, and that is where the two guitarists come in. Now, it feels like it's my fault that we can't do this one thing to help our performance win.

Somewhere deep down inside me still believes we can pull this off without that instrumentals they're blabbing about. Of course my presence alone should get us in the top spot, and the fact that we're hosting the concert this year.

"Look guys, I'm sure we can still do this without a second guitarist or an instrumental. If we give enough positive vibes and cheerful energy, the crowd will be so carried away to care less if we played an instrumental or not."

"So, you're saying no instrumentals?"

"We have practised this a countless number of times. It's too late to change anything now."

"I agree with Felix," Bryan says. "We've got the king of hearts in our corner. That alone is a plus for us."

"You see!" I spread my arms wide to accept the kind compliment – not to come off too proud.

"Okay, so assuming we come on stage without an instrumental, what should we do to give the crowd this cheerful vibe you're talking about?" Wesley asks. His pessimistic character towards everything he does never fails to baffle me.

"Hype?"

After a momentary silence, at once, they burst into laughter.

"Alright, alright, enough chatter. Back to work. Let's take it again from the top."

"Don't be such a spoilsport," Bryan comments.

They return to their instruments and I face the plugged-in microphone "One day when I came home at lunchtime, I heard a funny noise..."

*

Not until recently, we never really had a group name for ourselves ever since we banded back then in freshman year. Our very first gig was in my late papa's garage, which technically, I own now, so we usually played for fun or whenever we felt bored. Though, thanks to competitions like these, we started to take it more seriously, especially after we had scaled through our first audition.

I trained my voice, listened to pop band music, and occasionally rock. We were determined to be the best boy band around while we still had the opportunities. It got easier with time as we continued to play at parties, shows and once in a while, music events like this concert we have been rehearsing weeks for.

Contending with boy bands from neighbouring schools is quite a big deal for us, and that's why we practise till noon before we realize how late we already are.

Mark hires a van to get our instruments to the venue – his keyboard, Bryan's four-piece drum set, and Wesley's bass guitar. Finally, we arrive not long after the concert begins. We hurriedly make our way past the teachers and chaperons to the backstage with our instruments.

Good thing we are the last to perform.

We hoard behind the backdrop waiting for our turn while the toughest of our competitors are on stage performing One Direction's 'Kiss You'. Jeez! They can do much better than raising the standard this high.

"We can do this, guys. Even if we do not get the award, let's enjoy the moment," Wesley says.

I face him. "Pfft! Yeah right!" My tone explicitly sarcastic. "I admit the competition is tough but I believe in us. We have put in too much effort, so much that I cannot be convinced otherwise. We're winning that award, no matter what," I say confidently.

"Are our instruments ready?" Mark asks. "And Felix, I believe your vocals are intact, right?" He fiddles with his fingers anxiously.

"You worry too much, Mark. Everything is in its right place," I reassure him.

"I'm really nervous. This is going to be our final performance before we graduate. I wish this to have a lasting memory for everyone. This is the only thing that makes me feel useful. And if we don't get it right, I don't—"

I hold his hand before he finishes. "We will give it our best, okay." I look him in the eye, the fear of failure dawdles inside, pulling in me cords of sympathy. And honestly, I'm not that skilled at walking in the labyrinth of someone's mind but I've got to help him out somehow for the sake of others. "You are not insignificant. If we could come this far, it means we actually are good at what we do. Listen to me, once you touch that keyboard, forget everything else and play your heart out, alright?"

He straightens up. "Alright."

"I love your spirit, Felix. You are so sure of this," Bryan comments.

"Hell yeah I am! We have worked so hard to get to this stage. I know it will pay off."

I bring the band together to lock arms over one another with our heads hanging low, forming a circle, and wishing ourselves the last luck.

When we hear our name called out on stage – 'The Garage Boys', and the audience screaming their lungs out, we break apart from each other and share a high five.

"Alright, people, we're going up. Let's do this!" I speak daringly, lifting our spirits high.

With our instruments and optimism, we get up stage and the crowd goes wild as they cheer on my name.

It's in moments like this I adore most.

AGNES

"Why are people cheering for that imbecile?" I say in outright annoyance.

"Come off it, Agnes. Why do you have to be this bitter?" Tessa says behind me.

Tessa and Yvonne are diehard fans of Felix and his band. In all our years of schooling together, they would secretly ship me with Felix. I caught them once and they promised they'd stop, but I know that is far from happening. Except that, Tessa is a very good friend. She comes from an affluent family, but so down-to-earth, and just like Yvonne, she too has her dramatic side.

I look at her cheering Felix on at the very top of her voice.

"His performance isn't even that entertaining," I mutter. She hears me.

"That's because you won't give him a chance," she says with remains of her focus on me. She's sure enjoying the show Felix is putting on. Even if he sings complete nonsense, she'd still cheer for him.

I can't possibly be the only one who feels upset hearing Felix's voice. But observing around, the crowd keeps screaming his his name like he is one superstar of some sort. So I guess I am.

"Didn't you enjoy his performance?" She faces me.

I should know where this conversation is going, but I don't want to talk on it so I look away. She pulls me with her arms on my shoulders to face my dilemma.

"You know you gotta have to give him a chance at some point, right?"

"A chance for what?"

"To know his talent. His performance is better than anybody who has mounted that stage. I'm very sure their group is going to win the award whether you admit it or not."

My indifference becomes more evident. "I still think his performance is terrible."

She beams and returns her focus to the display. We have already established an understanding and she can't change my mind about it.

*

After a dread earful listening to Felix croon, the announcer comes back on stage to declare the results. Starting from the band with the lowest scores, I stand in the crowd praying that Felix's band takes the slot, until the results eventually and miserably ends in a tie between 'The Band of Rock' and 'The Garage Boys'.

Based on their judges' judgment, they win with equal points. "To break the tie, fifteen persons will be picked randomly to cast their vote," the announcer says.

Officials disperse themselves in the crowd and they choose their random voters. One of them comes up to me and gives me a small card with a pen.

"Who would you love to win this contest?" The lady official asks.

Good thing Tessa isn't looking my way. I quickly take the pen from her to tick the box beside the name of the band I wish to win then return the pen at the same speed, hiding away with hopes that Tessa doesn't realize I voted.

After a while, the announcer gets almost all the cards. "Okay. So far, I have here seven votes for 'The Garage Boys' and equivalent for 'The Band of Rock'. Just one more vote to break the tie."

The female who came to me climbs up stage to submit my vote. My eyes enlarge as I realize my vote will be the tie breaker. I definitely have to make sure that no one ever discovers I voted – if I don't want to be dead.

And I don't.

"And the winner is... The Band of Rock!!!"

The members of the group jump for exuberant joy, hugging themselves all excited and happy. On the other side, Felix and his band mates put up a bold front, faking smiles and waving to his adoring fans who are dying to get his attention.

I'd be a liar if I say a portion of me isn't rejoicing over their defeat. It feels good to know that I'm responsible for it. For once, Felix should realize he can't win all the time. Perhaps after this, his ego will be cut down to size.

I leave the venue much earlier. Yvonne, by luck, sees me and hurries to catch up.

"Hey Agnes."

I wait for her. "I didn't see you at the concert."

"Of course, I was in the front."

"Cheering for Felix, I would assume." I say quite indifferently.

We head out together.

"I feel bad though, he didn't win after all. I truly wonder who that last voter was, because I owe him or her one sucker punch in their face."

I give off my typical displeasure, hiding a nerve. "What a show off! Good thing he didn't."

She wants to say something else too – I see her struggling with herself. She knows better to let the topic slide, but I pity her though, she might explode if she buries it for too long.

"Just say it," I utter a sigh, expecting her to talk my ear off about Felix and his performance.

"Don't worry, let's go home. It's been a day."

* # * #

I'd like to see what your opinion(s) is/are about the relationship between Felix and Agnes.