Chapter Text
Every season of X-Factor caught the attention of many people, from those who wished to get famous, become the next Beyoncé, or who just wanted a little more notice for their YouTube channel. Every year more than twenty thousand people auditioned to hear what Simon Cowell had to say about them, hopeful of being put on some team, and then passing all the tests week to week.
What was the point to all the hard work they subjected themselves to? It was because they were born to sing.
But not Emma.
Oh lord. Forgive her for being in this position, but what the hell was she suppose to say at the interview they always did for special people who came to the auditions? Some of the auditioners told their stories about how they were singing since they were two years old or the super duper teacher who found their special little talent.
Would she say that she was there because she lost a bet against her best friend who was almost her big brother? Not because she really wanted to be there. Actually, if she could do anything right then, she would run.
“Come on, Ems! You sing pretty much like Beyoncé,,"David had repeated again after watching the commercial about the new season of X-Factor.
Emma had rolled her eyes, ignoring him for the most part while she changed her eighteen-month son’s, Henry, diaper from two rooms away.
“Sure, I sing just like Beyoncé,” she had called out to him. Again.
Emma had listened to the same speech for months. It had began when David her heard her singing in her car after chasing some guy and catching him. Months ago. And it was driving her nuts.
“Why do you always do that, Emma Swan?” David had asked, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her that look after she came back to the living rooms with her son.
“Do what, exactly?” she had asked defensively, feeling her walls come up. She hadn’t looked at him as she sat Henry down on the floor beside his toys.
“That. Put yourself down like you’re not a good singer.”
Emma had only glanced his way when she heard the resignation in his voice, finding David slouching down in his seat on the couch.
Before he’d been able to say anything else, Emma had quickly turned and ran towards the kitchen. Because that was what she did. She ran.
“Dave, I’m not saying I am not a good singer, but I am not a good singer,,"she had told him after starting the coffee maker.. “That’s the truth, you just say that because I’m like your sister and it’s your job to tell me that I sing fine. And everyone sings fine when they are singing in the car or the shower. Or, in my case, after catching a stupid guy who doesn’t pay his bills.”
The silence stretched between them. From the corner of her eyes she saw him playing on the foot of the couch with her son while she was waiting for the coffee to get ready. Of course he had looked disappointed, but what else could she have done? David always put her on a pedestal when she didn’t deserve it.
“I propose a bet. If you catch the next guy on your list then I‘ll stop talking about your musical skills.”
Oh lord, she knew she shouldn’t have agreed to this, but a bet was a bet and she loved the competition.
“What if I lose?”
“You show up for the next X-Factor’s season.,"he had answered with a smirk on his face.
“It’s a shame that I always catch my guy.”
**
**
And she lost him.
So now, she had to sing in front of bunch of people who were expecting to bring her down, especially, Simon Cowell. Yes, that was exactly what she would say in her interview.
She squeezed her fingers once again while she rehearsed the lyrics of the song she would sing in her head, walking from one side of the room to the other, like every participant who was there.
“You know, love, I’m pretty sure if you continue walking in circles, just like that, you will open a huge hole on the floor.” A black-haired man with a guitar next to him on his right side, spoke after seeing her walking for more than ten minutes without stopping.
He was sitting on the floor, one hand over his hair and his amazing blue eyes looking straight at her. The number on his shirt was close to her own, she noticed, which was why he was there. They, and everyone around them, were waiting to be called up by the event’s organizers.
Emma decided to ignore him, continuing her path across to the other side of the room. She was too nervous to try have a conversation or even try to answer him intelligently or think of a quick argument for why she was making on the floor.
“Mmmh, silent treatment I see. Let me tell you love, we are on the same line here and they are probably gonna interview us together. Also, I’m pretty sure that they are gonna call us together to make the audition, so… Hello, darling," he spoke with a flirty tone that made Emma wonder if that was just his tone or if he used it for situations like this. “It’s better to have friends than enemies, love. You’ll see soon that everyone here needs a friend.”
She stopped walking around and waited a few seconds to answer him, her eyes travelling around the room, seeing how crazy things were happening there, people crying for bad or good auditions, some of them were so nervous that were throwing up all their breakfasts.
“I’m nervous,” she confessed after thinking twice if she really needed to speak this amazing-looking guy “When I’m nervous I don’t speak. I squeeze my fingers,” she murmured, looking to the floor.
“Aha, the lady has a voice. I was wondering if you came to the right contest, because you should be aware,” he pointed out, playing some chords on his guitar, “this is a contest about music.”
“Shut up! Would you for God’s sake just shut the fuck up!” Emma screamed, feeling as if all her nerves were going crazy. She was pretty sure she looked like a crazy person right then.
God, this guy was driving her crazy with all his crap and talking about how she went to the wrong show and that she needs a friend crap. And every minute they were calling differents numbers. It was getting closer and closer to her own number being called, and, no, she wasn’t ready.
Like nothing.
Suddenly the amount of air in the room was less and less. The room looked more and more smaller than she remembered, and everyone was moving really fast that make her feel a little dizzy. She was starting to freaking out.
She needed to go. Like right now. She couldn’t be there. Why did she accept this shit in first place? Why did she have to listen David? He never came up with good ideas anyway, and now she is starting to have a panic attack. God job, big brother.
“Hey! Calm down!” the guy said while he came to stand in front of her in no time at all. “Okay, listen love. I need you to breathe with me,” the guy with smirky smile said while he was holding her on her shoulders “Okay… Close your eyes and breathe,” he repeated while he helped her sit down on the floor “I need you to still have your eyes closed, love. Can you feel the couch next to you?” he asked, taking her hands to guide it onto the red couch beside to them.
Emma only nodded when she was trying to breathe like she was giving birth. Again.
“That’s good, darling. Touch it, feel it, love,” he repeated, his arms still on her shoulders and his big blue eyes looking at her.
Emma could feel how everybody’s eyes were on her. She was making a scene and now she was the freaking show. All she needed right now was to disappear from the whole world and be in her bed with her son watching some cartoons. Not to be here. How in hell she was going to sing if just couldn’t even wait like normal people?
She could even see the interviewer asking her about her panic attack and her answering, It’s my brother fault and in case you want to interrogate him, he can’t come because he is probably laughing at me in my place with my son.
Minutes later, with her heart beating normally, her sweaty hands dry, and the ringing in her ears stopping. she could finally open her eyes. The room was still the same and the people were talking between them. Some of them were practicing their songs, others were crying because they forget their lyrics, and others were hugging the people who came with them.
“Thank you," she said looking the floor with read cheeks, the last thing she wanted to do was looking him in the eyes to see his pity because her little moment of freaking out.
“Killian Jones at your service, my lady,” he shared simply with an honest smile that couldn’t compare to the smirky one.
“Emma. Emma Swan,” she replied few minutes later, controlling her breath with a hand over her stomach. “Thank you… for helping me before,” she added, looking at him while he sat at her other side.
“Nothing to worry about, love. Everyone here must be losing their minds right now,” he laughed easily. “Like that guy over there." he pointed at some random guy who was moving his feet really fast and squeezing his hands. “I can assure you, that guy will forget his lyrics when the lights hit him,” he said looking a poor guy who has his t-shirt wet from sweat.
Emma just laughed a little while she was playing with her hands “Don’t be like that, I’m sure he will do it great,” she replied not even looking. Every time she had one of those attacks, they ended up tiring her. And now ,she was fighting against it.
“Well, I really hope he can’t sing because that means more chances for us, doesn’t it?” he asked, smiling while Emma rolled her eyes at his words “Are you here alone?” he asked a few minutes after were they just were looking at the other people.
“That surprise you?” she asked him fast enough.
“Not at all,” he replied, playing again with his hands feeling the pressure of being there ”Just a friendly question.”
“Yeah, my brother and his wife couldn’t make it. They needed to watch my kid at their house,” she shared quietly, almost so that Killian couldn’t hear, and something about that he knows she won’t talk more about it. “What about you? Are you alone here?” she ask him back.
“Yeah, it was my idea I really didn’t want to bother someone to be here with me,” he answered without looking her in the eyes.
“That makes two of us,” she replied. An awkward silence between them two soon followed, apparently neither knowing what to really say about it.
“So… Is it normal for you to have those… moments?” he asked her after a few minutes where he was playing with his guitar and she was braiding her hair and still trying to control her breathing. Killian handed her his water bottle.
Emma passed her hand one more time through her hair before accepting the bottle, taking a big drink of it.
“That’s all you want to ask? Do we really need to talk about that?” she asked, a bit angry just thinking about the moment she just got. “I’m sorry for snap. It’s just… I really hate when this happens, which isn’t usually. It just comes when I’m really under a lot of stress and can’t do anything about it,” she said minutes later, trying to figure out how to answer about that and drinking again from the bottle.
Killian was about to answer her when one of the producers came to call numbers for the auditions and for the interview. Killian’s number went to the audition while Emma was called for the interview..
“Well, here is where we say our goodbyes,” he said while he was standing and help her to go on her feet again.
Emma handed him his guitar with a little smile. She was called for the amazing interview she wasn’t interested and he was called for his audition again, this show works really fast.
“Good luck there,”she murmured giving him a little smile.
“You too, love,” he answer with his smirky smile and lifting his eyebrow. “See you at the bootcamp,” he added time after.
All Emma could do was roll her eyes before heading towards where the guy was calling her again.
Let’s do this, she told herself.