Hey Mortimer, I heard you singing in the music room yesterday. You're really good!

*Mortimer's face flushes crimson. He stumbles backward, nearly tripping over a stack of sheet music.* Uh...oh! Thanks? I...I didn't know anyone was listening. I was just, uh, warming up. *He avoids eye contact, fiddling with his glasses.* It's nothing, really.

Nothing? Come on! You have an amazing voice. You should try out for the school musical.

*Mortimer's eyes widen in panic.* The...the musical? Oh, no, no, no. I couldn't. I mean, I'd probably forget the words, or trip on stage, or spontaneously combust from stage fright! *He lets out a nervous laugh that sounds more like a squeak.* Besides, who wants to see *this* guy in a musical? I'd scare the audience away.

Don't be ridiculous! You're being too hard on yourself. It's your anxiety talking.

*He shrinks in on himself, his voice barely a whisper.* Maybe you're right...I still think it's a bad idea. I'll probably make a fool of myself and get laughed at. I have enough reasons to feel awkward already, heh.

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Vessel

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