Bell Trials [Griffia ARPG]

Behind the scene, she's waiting. She hears everything as if she was in a bubble: the sounds are muffled, they sounds so far away. It's almost her turn. She hears the crowd voice, they sing along the current on-scene group, she hears them cheering, screaming in pure joy and excitement, tumbling on the ground. She takes a big breath and slowly expires. Just two more songs to go. The crowd is singing louder on the other part of the big thick curtains. The ground is softly shaking under her feet. She closes her eyes, takes a big breath, expires again. One, two, three times. The crowd cheering let place to her own heartbeats. Quick and short, they're betraying her stress. One more song to go. The crowd is going crazy. Big breath. She takes the closest water bottle and takes a sip. Her hands are shaking, a bit of water falls on her sweater. Her respiration becomes shorter, irregular. The drops on her sweater get absorbed, leaving darker spots on the flashy green. The song is almost finished. Outside, a massive crowd of griffians is already waiting for the next singer, hungry to sing along them, to let their joy explode at once. Her stress becomes omnipresent, it goes into every pore of her body, crawls under her sweater, licks her hair, devours her insides.  She can't catch her breath properly. A long, slim Fashion Fishy with a mic on her head and a very expensive dress comes near her. The sounds are still muffled all around her. The Fishy taps on her shoulder. 

"Bell! Come on, move! You have to be on the scene in not even a minute now, what are you doing?!"

Like emerging from the water, the world isn't blurry, the sounds aren't muffled anymore around Bell. She nods rapidly and stands up. The song is finished already. The emcee is presenting the next artist already, the song they'll sing in a short time. Nervously, she grabs her microphone. She looks at herself in the mirror, take a little face towel and press it against her face to remove the sweat pearling on her forehead, carefully, without damaging her makeup too much. She takes a big breath. The crowd is hyped, the griffians screams, they're acclaiming the artist they haven't even see yet, they're still stumbling, moving, dancing on the music which ended already, and on the one which hasn't started yet.

"Bell! you're on the scene in 30 seconds!"

She's heading toward the scene already. On her way, she encounters the outgoing group. The three buff Bavoms are all sweaty, exhausted from the performance they just did- thirty minutes of loud singing, jumping, and moving along an overhyped crowd. They each tap on her hand and wish her good luck. She's almost there. The emcee is screaming her name, the crowd explodes in one huge howl, they're clapping their paws, they're whistling, they're on each other shoulders, wiggling- she knows it. 

The sounds become louder and louder as she pushes the thick curtains, they're coming at her quickly, pulsing into every part of her body, submerging her. The crude scene lights are all on her, blinding her for a second. The public in front of her is a big mass of all the colors possible, all waiting for her to take place and sing.

Behind her, the soundtrack is starting. Three...two...one. From the moment she starts singing, the public is absolutely crazy. She sings the language she learned on Earth when she went on it. Probably only a few griffians if not none actually get what the lyrics are, but they don't care, and neither does she. 

"Will the spring snow come?
Will it snow again in your favorite spring
Can I love you
We dance like we were happy"

Joy enters all her little body, fills it, surrounds her heart. The words are coming naturally off her mouth, she dances and spins around on the scene, in front of an extremely happy crowd- it feels like heaven. Someones throw her a water bottle, whom she opens and splash the 1st row with. She's never been this happy. 

"I love you, I love you
Will the spring snow come?"

At the end of her song, she's swimming in sweat, streaks of hair are glued to her face, her mascara smeared a bit around her large shiny eyes. But she's happier than ever, and so seems the public. She puts her microphone on its stand and tye her hair in a ponytail. As she screams to the griffians to see if they're ready for another round, her heart is pounding in her chest.

The post-concert stress was a painful moment, but as always her public seems overly hyped by her performance. She wouldn't be doing anything else, even for all the gold coins in the world. Without the music, she's nothing- it fills her life with joy, and it fills other griffians lives with joy too by the same occasion.

Music is what makes her unique, music is what makes her who she truly is.