Sing Your Heart Out
It was my first night in Tokyo with my boyfriend. We’re both good drinkers, and experts on holiday. We had late dinner and became friends with the chef, sous chef, and waiter so we decide to go and do karaoke together. I am super shy and a notoriously bad singer, so when I hear my voice amplified I almost throw the mic away immediately.
My boyfriend encourages me to sing all night, choosing the songs he knows I know by heart (such a sweetheart) and handing me the microphone. I always start the song and then give away the microphone, embarrassed. I feel like I’m ruining what could be an amazing night, since everyone else is happy and enjoying themselves. After a while I can’t take it anymore.
I head to the bathroom and start crying, looking at myself in the mirror and thinking what a complete failure I am, apparently also at karaoke now. I cry a lot, not bothering or trying to keep it down since the karaoke rooms are soundproofed. But, well, my logic isn’t really in mint condition. I exit the bathroom and see that the chef has been there all this time.
He writes something on his phone and then hands it to me. His Google translator says: “Everything is going to be ok.”