the emcee announces it's time for t

the emcee announces it's time for the 'sac,' and chooses someone at random.
 
"What's the sac?" I ask as he hands me my drink.
 
"Sacrifice…It's what they use to prepare the judges," he says as he slides back into the booth. Somehow, he slides even closer this time.
 
"Someone performs something that isn't part of the competition so the judges can calibrate their scoring."
 
"So they can call on anyone? What if they would have called on me?" I ask, suddenly nervous.
 
“Well, I guess you should have had something ready,” he says as he smiles at me.
 
He takes a sip from his drink then leans back against the booth, finding my hand in the dark. Our fingers don't interlock this time, though. Instead, he places my hand on his leg and his fingertips start to trace the outline of my wrist. He gently traces each of my fingers, following the lines and curves of my entire hand. His fingertips feel like electric pulses penetrating my skin.
 
"Lake," he says quietly as he continues to trace up my wrist and back to my fingertips with a fluid motion. "I don’t know what it is about you…but I like you."
 
His fingers slide between mine as he takes my hand in his and turns his attention back to the stage. I inhale and reach for my chocolate milk with my free hand, downing the entire glass. The ice feels good against my lips. It cools me off.
 
They call on a young woman who looks to be around twenty-five. She announces that she is performing a piece she wrote titled 'Blue Sweater.’ The lights are lowered as a spotlight is positioned on her. She raises the microphone and steps forward, staring down at the floor. A hush sweeps over the audience and the only sound in the entire room is the sound of her breath, amplified through the speakers.
 
She raises her hand to the microphone, still staring down to the floor. She begins to tap her finger against it in a repetitive motion, resonating the sound of a heartbeat. I realize I'm holding my own breath as she begins her piece.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

pembawa acara mengumumkan waktunya untuk 'kantung', dan memilih seseorang secara acak. "Apa itu kantung?" Aku bertanya karena dia tangan saya minum. "Korban... Ini adalah apa yang mereka gunakan untuk mempersiapkan para hakim,"katanya sambil ia meluncur kembali ke dalam bilik. Entah bagaimana, ia slide bahkan lebih dekat saat ini. "Seseorang melakukan sesuatu yang bukan bagian dari kompetisi sehingga para hakim dapat mengkalibrasi mencetak mereka." "Sehingga mereka dapat panggilan pada siapa pun? Bagaimana jika mereka akan disebut pada saya?" Saya bertanya, tiba-tiba gugup. "Yah, saya kira Anda harus memiliki sesuatu yang siap," katanya sambil ia tersenyum padaku. Ia mengambil seteguk dari minumannya kemudian bersandar kembali terhadap bilik, menemukan tanganku dalam gelap. Jari-jari kita tidak berpaut saat ini, meskipun. Sebaliknya, dia meletakkan tanganku pada kakinya dan jari nya mulai melacak garis dari pergelangan tangan saya. Ia lembut jejak masing-masing jari-jari saya, mengikuti garis-garis dan kurva seluruh tangan. Nya jari merasa seperti pulsa listrik yang menembus kulit saya. "Lake," katanya dengan tenang sebagai ia melanjutkan untuk melacak sampai pergelangan tangan saya dan kembali ke ujung jari saya dengan gerakan fluida. "Aku tidak tahu apa itu tentang Anda... tapi saya seperti Anda." Jari-jarinya geser antara saya ketika ia mengambil tangan saya di nya dan ternyata perhatiannya kembali ke panggung. Saya menghirup dan meraih susu cokelat saya dengan tanganku yang bebas, menenggak seluruh kaca. Es merasa baik melawan bibirku. Mendingin saya. They call on a young woman who looks to be around twenty-five. She announces that she is performing a piece she wrote titled 'Blue Sweater.’ The lights are lowered as a spotlight is positioned on her. She raises the microphone and steps forward, staring down at the floor. A hush sweeps over the audience and the only sound in the entire room is the sound of her breath, amplified through the speakers. She raises her hand to the microphone, still staring down to the floor. She begins to tap her finger against it in a repetitive motion, resonating the sound of a heartbeat. I realize I'm holding my own breath as she begins her piece.