The band

Arianne tried to swallow, but all of the liquid had left her mouth and throat, and the attempt was more painful than anything else. Yet she could feel sweat pouring out of every orifice of her skin, and no matter how much she tried to wipe it out of her face, it simply refused to go away. Show time was a mere ten minutes away, and she felt as though at any moment she might vomit, or pass out, or both. Probably both. Definitely both.

The rest of the band was relaxed, doing their own things to warm up. Michael was at his drums, practicing twirling his sticks so that he could show off for the crowd. Jake was hugging his guitar, eyes closed, quietly humming a soft song to himself, which Arianne could only assume was another one of his love songs. And Roxanne had yet to pull her bass guitar out of its case, staring intensely at it as if she were daring it to act up during the show.

Arianne felt as if she were the only one sweating bullets. She had always been the happy, carefree, relaxed one of the group. She couldn't count the number of times she had been the one for another member of the band to hold on to when the stress was getting to them, making them feel as if they weren't good enough. She had encouraged them, reminded them of their talent and the time they had put into their practice, and told them that the worse thing they could possibly do after so much hard work was to back down.

But now that she was here, leaving was the only thing she wanted to do. The others looked so certain. They didn't look affected at all. They were as they always were. Why was she so afraid? Why was she suddenly losing herself? Even an hour prior she hadn't felt this way. It had come suddenly, abruptly, out of nowhere. She wanted to cry.

She glared at her microphone, as if it were at fault. She knew that she couldn't abandon her friends now. It was far too late for turning back, and she knew it. But it was all that she could think about doing.

The feeling of a hand on her back made her jump out of her seat. She looked up, eyes wide, to see Jake standing over her. She hadn't seen him move. "J-jake?" she asked shakily.

"It'll be ok," he told her quietly. She didn't know how to respond. Jake was always the blunt and rude one. They knew that that was a facade he put on, but she had never seen him so openly... himself. And more than that, he had been the last one to agree to putting on a concert. He didn't want people to see him playing. He didn't want to be exposed. He had been more afraid than any of them. "We're all here together. We're all scared. But we lean on each other."

She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, and Jake's hand was there almost immediately to wipe them away. "Can't go messing up your makeup now," he said. "We're about to go on."

"I don't know if I can," she whispered.

"Then just pretend like you can, like I am. And worry about it when it's over."