Elena stood at the crossroads, literally and figuratively. To the left, the road home - safety, predictability, her parents' disappointed sighs. To the right, the road to the city - uncertainty, adventure, and maybe, just maybe, the life she'd always imagined.
She thought about Miguel, waiting for her at the bus station. He'd said he believed in her talent, that she could make it as a musician. But what if he was wrong? What if she wasn't good enough?
You'll never know if you don't try, a voice whispered. Her own voice. The one she'd been silencing for eighteen years.
She took a breath and turned right.
Left is easy.
Left is known.
Left is every safe seed ever sown.
Right is maybe.
Right is dream.
Right is every uncharted stream.
I've stood here for eighteen years
Choosing left to quiet fears.
Today I turn toward the sun
And become who I've begun.
HELENA: How happy some o'er other some can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know what all but he do know.
HERMIA: God speed fair Helena! Whither away?
HELENA: Call you me fair? That fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair!
Your eyes are lode-stars, and your tongue's sweet air
More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear.
"Why does Derek even like her?" Heather scrolled through Instagram, pausing on yet another photo of Maya looking effortlessly perfect. "Everyone says I'm pretty too, but apparently that doesn't count for anything."
Maya appeared in the doorway. "Hey! Ready for the party?"
"Easy for you to say," Heather muttered, then forced a smile. "You're going to look amazing. Derek's going to be literally obsessed."
Maya rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You're the one with the voice. Do you know how jealous I am that you can actually sing?"