The Songs of Leslie Orange

Leslie sighed. There had been too many acts tonight, way too many. The Coliseum was packed to the brim, full of shouting, screaming, crazy music lovers determined to see as many people sing for as little money as possible. Many of them couldn’t sing, they just screeched into the microphone, usually some top hit, and for some reason beyond her imagination, the audience screeched along.
“Is it nearly time for me to go on?” Leslie asked a passing member of staff. She didn’t try to hide the impatience in her voice.
“We’ve still go a couple of people left to go, sweetheart. Got to save the best to last.”
“Of course you do.” She replied. Honestly, was everyone going to treat her in such a patronising way?
Leslie laid her head on the table in front of her, trying to drown out the sound of the band that was now playing on stage. She started to sing quietly to herself, already knowing which song she was going to sing.
“I know that life won’t be easy
But who said it was meant to be?
Broken hearts, broken dreams
So much of the world still left to see....”

She was cut off by the voice of the man she had so recently asked for help. Honestly, just when she was starting to feel relaxed...

“You’re on after this girl now. You might want to get ready,” He gave her a wide, false smile.

“Thanks,” Leslie said, the sarcasm clear in her voice.

She walked around to the back of the stage. There were several people there, including the band that had just come off stage. A tall, stunningly pretty African girl was standing just to the side of the stage, holding a microphone in her hand, looking very nervous.

“You’re up,” the stage manager told her.

Leslie watched her take a deep breath before she walked out on to the stage. Leslie moved to watch her, suddenly curious about this girl. She hadn’t seen any nervous acts here tonight until her. The Coliseum wasn’t a place for nervous people.

The girl stood in the middle of the stage and took another deep breath. Leslie was suddenly nervous FOR her, how strange.

“I’m going to sing a song called A Dream That Came True,” her voice was quiet, and shook slightly.

The crowd was becoming very noisy, though it didn’t sound like cheering. And was Leslie imagining the anger that was now radiating from the audience?

The music started, but before she even sang a single word a shout came from a girl in the crowd.

“Go back to where you came from!”

Leslie was shocked; she had never heard prejudice like this at the Coliseum. But when she thought about it, had any foreign acts ever played there? She didn’t think so.

More shouts came from the crowd, becoming more aggressive every moment.

“Can we have someone from our OWN country please?”

“Man this place has gone to the dogs!”

“They let anyone in here these days”

“Off off off off!!”

Leslie was stunned. The poor girl had tears running down her face, and she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. Leslie was decided in a moment, and a change of song was needed. She ran onto the stage with her microphone in her hand.

When Leslie appeared the crowd was cheering again. She was a popular act there, but she wasn’t about to play along with this crowd.

“What the heck do you lot think you’re playing at?” The audience went silent, and Leslie continued.

“This girl just wanted to sing you a song. Music is universal, no matter what stupid prejudice you’ve all got fixed into your minds. Do you really think what you’re doing is right?”

No one from the crowd answered. Leslie looked around at them, daring someone to disagree with her. She was secretly shocked at her behaviour; it wasn’t like her to act like that. It felt good though, and she decided that she wasn’t done.

“It’s funny that everyone has gone quite now, isn’t it?” she sneered.

Still no answer, and then Leslie remembered that she had a song to sing. She turned around to get the stage manager’s attention. “Can I get a guitar please?” she asked.

Someone came onto the stage carrying an acoustic guitar. She took it from him with a word of thanks, and then turned to face the audience again.

“I wrote this song when I was in High School. Something similar happened there, and I think it would do you good to hear it.”

Leslie started to play a few chords, relaxing herself. Then she began to sing.

“We got different faiths
We got different skin
But just one world
That we’re all in

We got different eyes
We got different hair
But just one world
That we have to share

We’re all different
And we’re all the same
Whatever’s wrong with you
They’re not to blame

So before you start breaking their hearts
It’s just one world.

We’ve got different flags
We’ve got different laws
We’ve all got good points
We’ve all got flaws

We’ve got different hopes
We’ve got different dreams
But just one world
We need to redeem

Can’t give up
Got to keep trying
Right now it’s not working
There’s too much crying

So before you start breaking their hearts
It’s just one world

We’ve got different cultures
We’ve got different lives
But just one world
To keep alive

It’s just one world
Can’t we get along?
It’s just one world
Where we belong

So before you start breaking their hearts
It’s just one world
It’s just one world
It’s just one world”

Leslie stopped singing and the crowd cheered. The African girl smiled purely, clearly overwhelmed with joy at the song. Leslie felt herself smiling as well. She looked over to the crowd, “Get my point?” she asked.

The cheering increased, so Leslie took that for a yes. She held the microphone to her mouth again, and the crowd instantly reduced its cheers.

“So now, I think there’s someone else who wants to sing you a song,” Leslie said, “Sorry, what was you name?” she asked the girl.

“Naomi,” she replied, “And thank you, so much. No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

“You’re welcome,” Leslie replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have the world to explore.”

Without another word, Leslie went off the stage, accepted the money thrown at her for her performance and made her way towards the door, collecting her things on the way. She could just hear from the stage.....

“There’s this dream I’ve always had
I wanted it, oh so bad
Never thought it would come true
But here I am, standing here with you”

She really did have a pretty voice, thought Leslie. She opened the door to the street and the wind whipped around her hair and face.

“Well that’s my work done for today,” she muttered as she made her way out into the night.