Hana

Today, I turned 18. 

And I just received rejection letters from two of my top schools. 

I grinned and bore it the entire day. Got my yearly dose of “Happy Birthdays” in the halls, class, lining up for lunch and from relatives I hardly see more than twice a year. I’d been checking my email religiously since I sent in my applications so I guess I don’t have to cling to the edge of my seat waiting for answers, but by God am I feeling the sting.

Today, Mom invited some relatives over to celebrate my birthday. I stit at the table with them, and feel all of their eyes on me. 

How is school?

What was it like to be on national television? 

What schools are you thinking about?

And I give them my rehearsed answers. 

Going well, I’m hanging out with my friends 

Super nerve racking but performing and winning felt amazing 

Westhill College and StraffordU 

I think they noticed I didn’t say my top schools this time, I haven’t told them I’d been rejected yet. But once the icebreakers are out of the way, the topic has already changed. 

Mom did what she always does ever since I won first place on Next Rising Star. She shows them the episode, my performance. I think I’ve memorized every sound effect and word spoken in it by now. My proudest moment, televised for all interested to see. 

I really thought winning first place on Next Rising Star was my ticket to success, really. I’d always been interested in music, I never missed the opportunity to participate in a school talent show or open mic. Even took vocal lessons after school. So when I saw that they were taking auditions for their next season I was like, “Fuck it, I’ll show ‘em what I got”.

Practiced with my Dad for months before the audition myself in the living room. Pushed everything to make more time. Instead of putting my life into extracurriculars and classes I didn’t care about–even though I knew it would make me look interesting for colleges–I felt like I was actually working towards something., not just going through the motions. On top of that, I got in, Mom drove me 40 minutes to where we’d be recording. People loved me and you’d bet I gave them my all. Before I knew it, there I was on national television, winning £8,000 at 17. By the time I left the studio where they put me in a van and ushered my parents to get them to sign contracts for me, I felt like a celebrity–hell I WAS a celebrity at school. 

Then, my GPAtanked.

Should’ve expected it, not like I can skip classes and scrape by with barely the barest of minimum without your report card going south. And that 15 minutes of fame ended when the semester ended. Parents were pissed and I had to take summer classes just to recover any credits and winning that show was the only thing I had to MY name. Flunked most of my tests and now I’m looking at the fruits of my labour. 

Wasn’t all bad. Got into two of my safeties, I don’t think I felt anything upon receiving the news. I know I want to study music but I can’t put my dreams into words.

Here I am, the Season 4 winner of Next Rising Star, backed into a corner, and sitting awkward as all hell at the family dinner table, mentally checked out. And all I want to do is go to bed.