First Steps

Forks, Washington

2000/6/15

During English class, I visited the memory of my now-claimed body, realizing I was Bella's childhood friend. We had been an item during her visits here, but due to her reluctance to make it public, the former me decided to end things.

That's a good thing, knowing her personality for the future. But then again, I get her—she's young and doesn't want everyone to know her business since she's so reclusive. Past me didn't seem to notice.

Anyway, it's been two years since her last visit; best to forget about her knowing the plot. Being without parents is hard enough. Yes, I'm parentless—my orphan jokes strike again.

I need a way to make money. I have no desire to stay at an orphanage, but what am I to do? I'm 13, with limited options. Bitcoin? It's the year 2000; I don't think it exists yet. Acting? Nah, I'd probably cringe. Maybe singing? I could try out for the summer contest tomorrow.

I'll definitely sign up today. I spent the rest of the day thinking about which songs to choose. A few stood out—ones I'd heard from the former me that carried a lot of emotion.

Later that evening, I found a quiet spot to write down the lyrics I could remember. Each line brought back memories that weren't mine but still felt real. It was strange, but I didn't care—I just wanted to win. If I did, maybe a teacher or someone would post the video on Vimeo. That would be a great way to get noticed.

As I practiced under the dim light of my room, I felt the nerves start to fade. This contest was my shot at something bigger, a chance to earn some money and get a little recognition.

When the sun set, I took one last look at my notes. Tomorrow, I would step onto that stage and give it everything I had.

Forks, Washington

2000/6/16

Morning came quickly. I dressed in my best clothes—a simple t-shirt and jeans—but it felt right for the occasion. I headed to the venue, nerves bubbling in my stomach. When I arrived, I saw other kids milling around, some practicing their lines and others chatting excitedly.

I found a quiet corner and ran through my songs one last time. The notes flowed easily, and with each practice, my confidence grew. I was ready.

Finally, it was my turn. I stepped onto the stage, the spotlight hitting me.

"Hey everyone, I'm Jaxon Gale," I said, my voice a bit shaky but steady. "This song comes from the memories of someone who used to be close to me."

I approached the piano, my fingers hovering over the keys for a moment before I began to play. The familiar chords filled the space as I sang:

"I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame but the frustration in my wandering mind..."

As I continued, I noticed the audience start to sway gently. Some faces were focused, lost in thought, while others exchanged glances, feeling the weight of the lyrics. The atmosphere shifted, and I could sense the connection growing.

"What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?"

By the time I reached the chorus, a few kids were nodding along, and I felt a surge of energy. It was like they understood the emotions behind the words, and that made it all worthwhile.

"I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling..."

After I finished the song, silence hung in the air for a moment before applause erupted. The crowd stood, clapping and cheering, their faces lit up with appreciation. I smiled, relief and joy flooding through me.

As I stepped off the stage, adrenaline still coursing through me, a few other students took their turns. First up was a girl named Sarah, who performed a lively pop song. Her energy was infectious, and the crowd clapped along, clearly enjoying the performance. She finished with a flourish, and cheers erupted.

Next, a boy named Mark took the stage. He was known for his impressive beatboxing skills, creating a rhythmic performance that had everyone laughing and clapping. Even though he didn't sing, his charisma and talent kept the audience engaged.

After that, a duo named Lily and Tom performed a duet. Their harmonies blended beautifully as they sang a sweet love song, which had several people swaying gently. The connection between them was palpable, and the crowd responded warmly, giving them a round of applause.

Finally, the last act was a band of older students who played a high-energy rock song. Their electric guitar riffs and powerful vocals filled the auditorium, igniting excitement in the audience. They ended with a bang, leaving everyone buzzing.

As the performances wrapped up, I felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The judges gathered at the front of the stage, whispering amongst themselves. I glanced around, noticing some kids looking nervous while others chatted excitedly.

When the judges finally stepped forward, the room fell silent. One of them cleared his throat, smiling at the crowd. "What an amazing showcase of talent we've seen today! Each performer brought something special, but we have to announce the winner."

My heart raced. "And the winner of this year's summer contest is... Jaxon Gale!"

The crowd erupted in applause, and I could hardly believe it. I felt a rush of joy as my name echoed in the auditorium. I made my way back to the stage, a grin spreading across my face. The applause swelled, and I raised my hands in appreciation, soaking in the moment.

I accepted my prize—a small trophy and a gift certificate, with a 100 bill inside.

As I stood on stage, trophy in hand, the applause washed over me like a warm tide. I couldn't help but imagine how great it would be if someone caught this moment on camera and uploaded it to Vimeo. That could be my ticket to kick-starting a real singing career.

The crowd began to disperse, and I spotted a few familiar faces. One of the teachers was taking apart a camera that had captured moments of the event. I felt a spark of hope—maybe they'd post the performance online after all.

As I walked off stage, a few students came up to congratulate me, their smiles bright and genuine. They all seemed excited about the contest, and it felt good to know I had made an impression. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Leah Clearwater. She was 15, and I knew Sam probably hadn't asked her out yet, which meant this was my chance to save her from a potential heartbreak—and maybe myself from a chase.

I rushed past my classmates who wanted to chat, my heart racing as I approached Leah. I stopped right in front of her, catching her by surprise.

"Hey, Jaxon," she said, blinking a bit. "Did you need something?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, trying to steady my nerves. "I was wondering if you could meet me at the park down the street."

Her brow furrowed slightly, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. "What for? Is it important?"

"It is," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I just... I need to talk to you about something."

She seemed to consider it for a moment, biting her lip. "Okay, but... I have to finish talking to some friends first."

"Sure, no rush," I replied, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. "Just let me know when you're free."

"Alright," she said, a small smile breaking through. "I'll see you there."

As she turned back to her friends, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. This could be the start of something good for both of us.