The following is a stand-alone short story, a prelude to the official rewrite of my upcoming novel Fly Girl.

Feel free to follow along with the full novel on Wattpad.

 

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Timothy Mercier could only smile as he peered through the crack his youngest left in her bedroom door, opening it as quietly as possible before he leaned against the door frame.

Her short and thin figure moved in awkward motions to the classic tune that played from a stereo she’d been gifted, her voice shining greatly over the artist. He felt the song a bit inappropriate for a twelve year old, but it had always been her favorite. The very song that aided in the discovery of her talent.

He smiled at her frustration, watching as she decided to stand still and sing, using only her hands to make gestures. “You want thiiiiis…”

Timothy cleared his throat, startling the girl just as she was about to give it her all. “Daddy!”

“I always hope that you’ll sing more age appropriate tunes.” Nodding towards the mess that adorned her bedroom, he spoke in a more stern tone. “Troy, what’s all of this? And why are you up here stomping around?”

Her smile faded instantly. “Thanks for making me feel worse about my dancing.” Her hands fell to her side, disappointment weighing heavily. “I’ll never make it with my singing alone.”

“Make what, Troy?”

Stepping over the mess of clothing and random items to reach her bed, Troy grabbed a single piece of paper, handing it to him. “I’ve been going to these auditions, trying to gather up my nerve to perform for someone other than you guys.”

“You said it like performing for your family is the worst thing.”

“It would just be nice to garner a few unbiased opinions.”

He understood, though no one in their family had ever been the type to mince words or spare feelings when it mattered. “So, what exactly are you attempting to do this for?”

Troy looked at her father, giving a tiny smile. “We had a project and we had to create lives for ourselves in the future. Everybody had their entire lives planned out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, until it dawned on me. The only thing I’ve ever loved.”

“Singing?”

“It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember. To be as great as Janet and Mariah. But, I’m scared of things ending for me the way they ended for Mom. Putting all of that time in, and no success.”

Timothy looked down at the paper he’d been given, glossing over the details. “Your mother’s idea of success was different. She was happy, even without making it. It may not happen when you want it to, or when you think it should, but it will happen. You’ve got IT, Sweetheart.  When’s this audition?”

“Next Friday.”

He nodded, folding the paper a few times before pushing it into the pocket of his shirt. “I think I better go and buy you that Janet Jackson VHS you wanted, get you some help with those steps.”

Troy smiled excitedly, grateful he didn’t shut her dream down. “Thanks Daddy.”

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