Late Thursday evening I stood in front of Victoria’s massive house in a trendy South Austin neighborhood, clutching my guitar case and feeling like a total imposter.

Her house reminded me of something out of True Blood. It was the type of big, old southern house that looked like it would sit on a huge estate. I imagined women wearing hoop skirts sipping sweet tea on the wraparound porch and gazing out at the acres of cotton. But Austin was too dense for that these days. The long, lush lawns that would have once surrounded the house were long gone. Instead, little craftsman style bungalows sat on either side, clearly built much more recently than her house had been.

I rang the doorbell and preemptively told myself that it was ok if she didn’t answer. Someone as famous as Victoria might have gotten busy, or just forgotten. If she didn’t answer, I’d just go home and forget this ever happened.

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. Victoria threw the door open and ushered me inside.

“Hi Rosie,” she said excitedly. “Come on in. I invited some of my girlfriends to listen, too. I hope you don’t mind.”

She did what? How many? I hadn’t realized this would be a real performance. Hell, I hadn’t even changed my outfit. I was wearing the same beat-up secondhand jeans and black t-shirt that I’d had on that afternoon.

“Oh, that’s cool,” I said, trying to be nonchalant. Inside, I was shaking.

Victoria’s height meant she could walk a lot faster than I could. I struggled to keep up as she led us down a maze of hallways. We whipped to the left and into a large covered patio where a small stage was erected.

There were at least two dozen people there. All women. All older than me. And from the looks of them, obviously much, much cooler than me, too.

“Hi everybody,” Victoria told them, raising her voice to get their attention. They turned collectively to look at us. I felt riveted to the spot. “This is my new friend Rosie.” My cheeks started to burn. Then Victoria started introducing me. and I didn’t have any more time for embarrassment. “This is Laney Banks,” Victoria said, starting with the woman closest to me, an imposing brunette with a curvy figure and a prominent nose, “she’s the lead music correspondent for the Austin Chronicle.”

Holy shit.

“Hi Laney,” I managed, but before we did more than shake hands, Victoria was steering me to the left.

“This is Gloria Garcia,” Victoria told me, introducing a petite Hispanic woman with green dreadlocks. “She’s one of the lead promoters for South by Southwest.”

Sweet Jesus.

Then it was Ada Wilkes, who ran a bunch of local clubs. Then Regina Laroche, who ran a local PR firm. Next was Kayla Moonves, who played mandolin with a very popular local folk group. In the course of five minutes, I met pretty much every prominent female member of the local music scene. My brain struggled to keep up, and the names and faces quickly blurred. But I got a bunch of business cards, and Victoria repeated my name over and over so maybe they’d remember me.

Finally, when we reached the end of what felt like a wedding receiving line, I had a chance to catch my breath.

“You might’ve warned me,” I said to Victoria with a hysterical laugh. “I would have put on some mascara if I knew I was meeting so many important people all at once. Any maybe an adult diaper, too.”

She laughed, and it sounded like bells. I was starting to wonder if Victoria was secretly my fairy godmother.

“You never would have come if I did that.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’d have been too intimidated. “Still.”

Her smile wasn’t budging from her pretty face. “I refuse to feel guilty.” She snagged herself a beer from a nearby cooler and pressed one into my hand too. “Now get up there and play. You’ll thank me later.” She winked.

I took the beer with me and climbed up the two steps to the little stage. Feeling silly and probably the same color as Victoria’s hair, I tuned up my guitar and got comfortable on the single stool. There was no amplification in the sunroom, but I didn’t need it. I could be loud.

I knew if I waited any longer, I’d lose my nerve. Messing up in front of all these people would kill me. I took a deep breath, opened the beer and took a deep sip for courage, and started playing.