THE TIME I SANG INFRONT OF MY SCHOOL FOR MY CRUSH> CAUSING HIM TO PICK A DIFFERENT HIGH SCHOOL, AWAY FROM ME

So boom.

So, here’s the story. It was the end of the Year 6 play. In the UK, the end of primary school is Year 6, and high school starts in Year 7. Got it? Because that’s important.

The end-of-year play was Beauty and the Beast. I wanted to be Mrs Potts because I thought it would be cheating on my crush if I played Belle, the love interest. I knew he didn’t like being in the spotlight, so I aimed for a safer role. The auditions were held in the main hall where we usually had assemblies. When my turn came, I confidently stated I wanted to be Mrs Potts and sang Tale as Old as Time.

Now, I had been practising on Smule with random adults, and they’d given me feedback, saying I needed to work on my pitch or whatever. So, when audition day arrived, I was ready to shine. I stood up with no hesitation, chest puffed out, fully expecting that the role of Mrs Potts was mine.

I picked Mrs Potts for a specific reason. I had a London accent—well, I’d lived in North West London since I was 9—so I assumed I had that posh accent locked down. I thought the role was practically made for me.

Now, enough of the context! The day finally arrived. I was certain that when I opened my mouth to sing, my crush would be enamoured with me immediately—faster than immediately, actually. I genuinely believed it would be like one of those Disney moments where the princess sings, and the guy’s jaw drops in awe.

My goal was to sound like a British Mariah Carey.

The teacher called my name.

“Ayah, come up here quickly. Break’s about to start.”

“Yes, Miss,” I smirked, rising from my seat. Whispers filled the hall, some surprised, others amused.

I didn’t just walk; I strutted down the aisle, more cvntier than Moses parting the Red Sea. I was wearing my outgrown summer uniform, which my mother insisted I wear, even though I was in the middle of a growth spurt. But none of that mattered—I had arrived, and all eyes were on me. But my eyes? They were on one person.

Then, the backtrack started.

And, oh my days… Why on earth was I faking the accent?

Yes, I admit it. I panicked. I thought my naturally God-given Watford accent wasn’t British enough for Mrs Potts. I got insecure, okay?! I thought I couldn’t match her iconic dialect, so I exaggerated it. Imagine someone from America—no, not just America—AMERICAN.

 

That's what I'm talking about... 

Yeah imagine them doing their best Gordon Ramsay impression.

It was... bad. I sang, hitting those high notes while cracking horribly. Eyes on him the entire time. Serenading him with my voice. More like sedating him. Of course, everyone noticed. They all knew.

When I finished, I thought I’d nailed it. I was fully expecting the teachers to call up Cheryl Cole and invite me to join Little Mix or something.

I did the classic Reddit smirk, closing my eyes, waiting for the applause.

There was none.

I opened my eyes, and the 60 students and 5 teachers were just staring at me.

“Yep,” I thought. “They love me.”

The break bell rang, saving me from what I didn’t realise I needed saving from.

Break was uneventful. I noticed a crowd forming around my crush. “He must have a lot of friends,” I thought with my smooth brain.

Now, let’s skip ahead to when they revealed the roles. I didn’t get Mrs Potts. I ended up in the choir.

Let’s skip even further to when my crush started to distance himself from me. I convinced myself he was just being shy around me.

Then, about 30 kids came up to me, asking if I fancied him. I denied it, but  just said, while I was sniffing a dead snail's shell, that if he needed a date for the Year 6 prom, I was free.

(Not going to lie. Ate.)

Anyway, during English class (we sat next to each other for most lessons), I was chatting with him, making him laugh, you know, no big deal. But then, out of nowhere, the teacher decided to call me out in front of the entire class, saying my SATs results weren’t anything to be proud of, and that my crush was doing better in English. She basically said I was dragging him down to my ‘level.’

He’d been unusually quiet since then.

Fast forward to the play. I was in the choir. The play came and went.

In the last few weeks of primary school, my crush revealed he wasn’t going to the same high school as most of our class.

I just sat there. I regretted not reacting more to what he said. I was mad at his parents for choosing another school for him. I even thought about talking to his dad. But then I remembered his mum had told me not to play with him, so I couldn’t hang out with him anyway.

A year later, during a diss circle in high school, someone brought up my disastrous audition. They said it was terrible.

So, naturally, I replied, “Well, I saw your mum’s boobs in the park once.” (She was breastfeeding, but still.)