Now is not the time for Carmen to fall in love. And Jeremy is hands-down the wrong guy for her to fall for. He is infuriating, arrogant, and the only person who can stand in the way of Carmen getting the one thing she wants most: to win the prestigious Guarneri competition. Carmen's whole life is violin, and until she met Jeremy, her whole focus was winning. But what if Jeremy isn't just hot...what if Jeremy is better?
Carmen knows that kissing Jeremy can't end well, but she just can't stay away. Nobody else understands her--and riles her up--like he does. Still, she can't trust him with her biggest secret: She is so desperate to win she takes anti-anxiety drugs to perform, and what started as an easy fix has become a hungry addiction. Carmen is sick of not feeling anything on stage and even more sick of always doing what she’s told, doing what's expected.
Sometimes, being on top just means you have a long way to fall....
Jessica Martinez's debut novel, Virtuosity, won't be out until October, but we're lucky enough to have her here with us today, sharing a lesson learned from a too-real moment from her own teen years. Thanks so much, Jessica!
Walking Out
I was a nice girl. Still am. But
when I was a teenager I was the dangerous kind—the kind that would sooner die than
mouth off. Adult confrontation was
avoided at any cost. That kind of
nice girl. But there comes a
moment in every girl’s life when she has to stand up for herself. Even the nice ones.
My moment came when I was 17. I was concertmaster of a youth orchestra, playing under a
conductor I knew well and respected.
I even considered him a friend.
We were sight reading new music when I made a stupid mistake, bringing
half the first violins with me. It
was embarrassing, but not fatal. I
did as I had been taught—corrected my course and kept on playing. Or I tried, but I didn’t really have
time before the conductor’s palm collided with my face, nearly knocking me out
of my chair.
In the second it took to regain my balance and put my violin
back under my chin, I felt nothing.
Just shock. Had that really
just happened? My eyes found the
notes on the page and I was suddenly playing again. I couldn’t think of another option.
I’d been playing the violin for fourteen years, but there
was no precedent for this. I’d been
yelled at plenty, but I’d never seen a student get hit, though. Not in orchestra, or chamber music, or
lesson, or masterclass, or anywhere.
The notes flew by and I kept playing them, but it was
seconds before my emotions finally caught up. Shame was the first and the heaviest. I had just been hit in front of 70 of
my peers, and I felt like a dog, slinking alongside the owner who had just kicked
it.
But I wasn’t just humiliated. I was ticked. I
hadn’t deserved that. Couldn’t he
see I was working as hard as I could, pouring my heart into every second of this
rehearsal? Getting smacked was my thanks? The self-pity and frustration made me
want to cry, but I knew tears would only make the situation more embarrassing,
so I sucked it up.
Walk out. By the time this thought occurred
to me, I’d been playing for at least a minute. I tried to reason my way out of it—maybe I was exaggerating how
hard he hit me in my mind, or maybe everyone else was too wrapped up in their
music to have even seen it.
But I was old enough to know that what had happened was wrong. At the very least it was
unprofessional. I knew I needed to
stand up and walk out, because hitting me wasn’t okay, and to continue playing like
nothing had happened would be telling my conductor and everyone around me that
it was okay. Staying would be telling myself that too.
Except, by the time I had thought all that through, minutes had
passed. I didn’t want to bring
more attention to the whole thing, did I?
It was already over. And
where would I go? I couldn’t just
pack up and leave without my younger brother, who was still playing away with
the rest of the cello section. If
I left, this would become a big deal.
There was a real possibility that my best friend and stand partner would
follow me—what if other people did too and I was at the heart of some huge
orchestral coup? I didn’t want to
be at the center of a mess like that, and I didn’t want my conductor to get in
trouble. If I walked out there
would probably have to be an official apology and everyone would know and my
parents would be told, which for whatever reason, made the whole thing ten
times more humiliating. I’d look
like a brat and a prima donna.
I wish this story ended differently.
I didn’t leave.
I kept playing. He muttered
an apology the next time there was a break in the music, and then found me
after rehearsal to give me a sincere apology, because he was, as I’d guessed, mortified
that he had done such a thing. The
huge mess that I had feared would erupt just fizzled and died, because I sat
there and didn’t make a big deal. One could argue I did the mature thing.
But. I don’t
think I did. To this day, every
time I replay the moment (and it is often) I wish I had walked out. Afterwards I was disgusted with myself for
being so spineless, and it took a while to recover from that hit to my
self-esteem. Not because of what
he did, but because of what I didn’t do.
I never want to feel that way again.
As an adult, I occasionally catch myself on the cusp of
being bullied into an engine flush when I just want an oil change, or getting talked
into lowlights when I really do want
to go blond, and I’ll summon the memory of that moment for strength. Not the moment that I was hit. The afterwards. The regret. It’s good fuel, because, nice girl that I am, I never want
to give someone permission to push me around again.
5 comments:
Wow. What a story. I don't think I'd have been able to walk out either. It's always easier to look back and think, I should have...
I can't wait to read your book!!!
As a fellow violinist, I can't imagine going through that. Wow. The worst that one of my conductors ever did to me was yell in my face, and that was in his office, not in public.
I was the "nice" girl, too. And unfortunately, I think I would have done exactly what you did, thought the same thoughts, and had the same regrets later. Sad but true.
Thanks so much for sharing this. *hugs*
Now I want to read Virtuosity EVEN MORE. Hmm, maybe it's time to catch up with editrixanica!
Wow, that is insane. It's sad and horrible that someone would do that! And it's totally hard in those moments to figure out what to do. I was always shy growing up and I still don't like rocking the boat if I don't have to. But I've definitely learned to stand up for myself as well. I've seen people in my own life be walked all over and I never want that to be me. It's such a hard thing to do, but it's important.
Thanks for sharing your story, Jessica. =)
Thanks everyone! Good to know I'm not the only recovering doormat out there. And I'm glad you're excited for Virtuosity!
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