Finn, baterista de la escuela de Risingstar, observaba con impaciencia el reloj del pasillo mientras avanzaba casi corriendo entre los estudiantes y los sonidos que llenaban el edificio. Su día había sido un torbellino de clases, partituras por aprender y prácticas, pero el momento que realmente esperaba era el ensayo con su banda. Ese era su espacio, el lugar donde todo tomaba sentido.

De pronto, su teléfono vibró: “Queda un minuto”. El mensaje de su compañero hizo que su corazón se acelerara. La ansiedad comenzó a apoderarse de su mente. Sentía que el tiempo se le escapaba entre los pasos apresurados y los ecos de pianos, voces y guitarras que salían de cada aula.

Cada segundo parecía más largo que el anterior. Sus pensamientos se mezclaban con el ritmo constante que marcaban sus manos, tal como si estuviera corriendo. ¿Llegaré a tiempo?, se repetía mientras miraba el reloj una y otra vez.

Finn, a drummer at Risingstar School, watched the clock in the hallway impatiently as he hurried past students and the sounds filling the building. His day had been a whirlwind of classes, sheet music to learn, and practice, but the moment he was really looking forward to was rehearsal with his band. That was his space, the place where everything made sense.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated: “One minute left.” The message from his bandmate made his heart race. Anxiety began to take over his mind. He felt time slipping away between the hurried footsteps and the echoes of pianos, voices, and guitars coming from each classroom.

Each second seemed longer than the last. His thoughts mingled with the steady rhythm of his hands, as if he were running. Will I make it on time? he repeated to himself as he looked at his watch over and over again.

Fuente // Source

Se imaginaba el inicio del ensayo, la primera canción, las miradas de concentración, el momento en que todos entraban al mismo tiempo y la música fluía sin esfuerzo. Ese ensayo no era solo una práctica: era su refugio y la meta de ser cada día mejor. Y allí noto que mientras corría por el pasillo, entendía el peso de esas mañanas en las que, al sonar la alarma, se decía: un minuto más.

Finalmente, corrió y en último corredor y la puerta del estudio apareció frente a él. Con la respiración agitada y el corazón latiendo como un redoble, tomó la cerradura. Con toda la suerte del mundo de su lado y llego a tiempo para comenzar a hacer música.

He imagined the start of rehearsal, the first song, the concentrated looks on everyone's faces, the moment when they all came in at the same time and the music flowed effortlessly. That rehearsal wasn't just practice: it was his refuge and his goal to be better every day. And there, as he ran down the hallway, he understood the weight of those mornings when, as the alarm went off, he would say to himself, “Just one more minute.”

Finally, he ran and was the last runner, and the studio door appeared in front of him. Breathing heavily and his heart beating like a drum, he grabbed the lock. With all the luck in the world on his side, he arrived in time to start making music.

Fuente // Source