Music Notes Read online

  “Have you heard from the guys yet? Are they back?” she asks as she wipes tears from her eyes.

  “They’re not back yet. They left at two o’clock. Since they’re the last group to go, I can’t imagine them getting back before six, right?”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. At least I don’t have to head home tomorrow,” Corie says. “I get to stay until Thursday.”

  True. Now that Corie was chosen for a team, she gets to attend the big meeting on Thursday. I only hope that I’ll be attending that meeting with her. Otherwise, this has all been for nothing.

  At six-thirty, everyone is gathering on the ground floor when the final van returns to the hotel. I notice the group waiting is slightly smaller than it was the night before. Eliminations have been made and those hopefuls are now disappointed, returning home to their everyday lives. Corie and I watch as Troy and Ben each make their way out of the van. Their smiles aren’t mistaken. There’s no camouflaging their excitement. They’re in.

  “I can tell by the way you’re smiling that you both have good news,” Corie says with an equally bright smile.

  “You first. Did you get in?” Troy asks Corie.

  “Yes!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around his large chest. She doesn’t quite get her arms wrapped around him, but that’s okay. Troy picks her up and swings her around like a rag doll. “I’m on JoJo’s team!”

  “Congratulations, darlin’,” Ben adds with his own hug.

  “So, now you two,” she says.

  “We’re both in,” Ben exclaims.

  “What teams did you get?” I ask as others around us eavesdrop on our conversation.

  We slowly start to make our way towards the restaurant as Troy says, “I’m on Beau’s team. Both he and Sophia flipped their flags. Even though Sophia has a lot to offer as a coach, I just felt like Beau was the better fit for me.” I nod in agreement.

  “And I’m also on Beau’s team. He flipped his flag after I got into the chorus of the song. As soon as he flipped, Felix and JoJo both flipped, too. It was a no-brainer for me being that he has the country background, and he was the one I wanted.”

  “So you’re both on Beau’s team. That’s awesome,” I tell them as we make our way to the back room of the restaurant. Many empty seats are now scattered around the room, and after tomorrow’s round of eliminations, there will be even more. I just hope I’m not one of them. Especially with all three of my new friends each making it to the live show.

  “Are you ready for tomorrow?” Corie asks me while we enjoy our dinner.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. I wanted to practice a bit this afternoon, but Superstar Barbie was always in the room. I guess I’ll just have to wait until I get there tomorrow morning,” I say.

  “Come down to my room. My roommate got the boot, so I’m sleeping solo tonight. You can come down and practice a bit,” Corie offers.

  “I may just take you up on it,” I reply, though the thought of leaving Shawna alone in our room for any length of time doesn’t sit well. You never know what she may have planned.

  Note to self: Buy a new toothbrush before you go to bed tonight. Just in case…

  Dinner is pleasant as we listen to those around us recount their auditions. I’m sitting near three people on Felix’s team, one on JoJo’s team, two on Sophia’s team, and one other on Beau’s team. I wish we could have watched their auditions–you know, check out the competition, and all.

  Later that night, after a twenty-minute phone call to Mom and Eli, I head over to Corie’s room. She has her stuff spread out everywhere since her roommate is gone, but makes a little room for me on the other bed. I feel like a girl at a sleepover suddenly, which is a crazy feeling because I was never one for girl-talk and sleepovers. I was more of the sneaking out and cuddling with your boyfriend in the backseat of his dad’s old Chevy kind of girl.

  “So, what are you singing?” she asks.

  I haven’t told anyone about my song selection yet. In fact, the week prior to coming to Los Angeles, I changed my mind probably ten times. Every song was too happy or too sad. I have so many that I love to sing that it was hard to decide.

  “I’m singing ‘Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’ by Journey.”

  “Really? I love that song. Let’s hear it,” Corie says from her post, cross-legged and wide-eyed on the other bed.

  I jump straight in, not afraid to sing in front of my new friend. The lyrics roll off my tongue so naturally it’s as if the song was made for me. And, in a way, it was.

  “Wow, you’re a Shoo-in! That was amazing,” Corie says when I finish the song.

  “Thanks. I really connect with that song and it’s easy to sing the words when you feel them so deeply, you know?” I ask without really thinking about what I’m saying.

  “So, you were cheated on?” she asks in response to my off-the-wall comment.

  I look at her for several heartbeats before I finally answer. “Yeah. I was cheated on.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That sucks,” she says. The silence between us is louder than the song I just sang.

  “So, do you have a favorite movie?” she asks, breaking the ice and steering the conversation to safer territory.

  And just like that, we’re talking like old friends. I learn all about her life outside of the audition, and I find myself easily sharing some of the details of my life that I usually guard intently. Of course, I steer clear of the Colton saga, which includes Eli.

  An hour later, I’m heading back to my hotel room. Just before I press the button for my floor in the elevator, I remember my toothbrush fear and decide to detour down to the lobby and snatch a new, complementary one. A girl can never be too careful when she has a crazy, diva roommate from hell.

  When I make it back to my room, the alarm clock on the nightstand between the beds says ten-thirty. Shawna is softly snoring in her bed; satin eye mask covering her freshly scrubbed face. She looks beautiful, even in her sleep. She’s the kind of woman who wakes up with perfect hair, glowing skin, and as fresh as spring rain. And then she opens her mouth and talks, and it’s like the devil reincarnated as a blond with big boobs.

  I bet her manicurist cringes every time she walks through the door.

  It takes me longer than usual to fall asleep. I’m edgy and fidgety and know exactly what is causing it. I tried a shower to relieve some of the tension, but I ended up running out of hot water halfway through. Apparently, Conceited Barbie took an extra-long shower this evening.

  After flipping through all of the channels three times, I end up turning off the television. Even if I actually found something worth seeing, trying to watch it on mute doesn’t exactly do it for me. Even if I found Friends, which I’ve seen every episode at least forty times, I’d still be hard-pressed to enjoy the show. Reading is out and the Internet proves to be useless.

  As I toss and turn for the better part of another hour, my mind continues to wander to the judges and my audition tomorrow. What if no one throws a flag? What if they laugh me off the stage? And that shit will probably be broadcasted front and center on the first show they televise in a few months. Hell, they’ll probably use it in all of their promotional coverage leading up to the show! Shit, people will YouTube it. I’ll be the laughing stock of Chicago. Of the Midwest. Of the United States. I’m going to be the next Justin Beiber or Miley Cyrus. Christ! I’m going to be that Justin guy from the first season of American Idol. No one remembers his name.

  Sleep doesn’t come until the early morning hours, and even then it’s sporadic and light.

  Welcome to the longest night of my life.

  Note to self: Sing like no one is listening. And in case they really aren’t listening, chase your dreams with a shot of tequila.

  Would you believe that I overslept this morning? Shocker, right?

  I was lost in a fitful dream where Sophia and JoJo were demonstrating the proper ways to give bikini waxes when a distant door slamming pulls me out of my nightmare. I shudder as I recal
l the great detail of the dream–or nightmare, as I prefer to call it–and it took me several minutes to rouse myself out of my coma.

  The door slamming turned out to be my hotel room door. The door leading to the hallway. The same hallway Shawna just entered to go meet up with our group for the audition.

  The audition!

  I jump out of bed and take quick stock of my appearance. I have to be downstairs and in the departing van in fifteen minutes. I grab the vintage dress that my mom purchased for me and throw it on my body with way less finesse than normal. Thank God I took a shower last night.

  My hair doesn’t look too bad considering I washed it last night as well, so I quickly brush it out and pull it back in a sleek ponytail at the nape of my neck. The dress fits like second skin and, with my vintage black ankle boots, I appear sheik and retro. Stylish. With a quick sweep of dark eye shadow, a few swipes of black mascara, and a quick–yet thorough–brush of my teeth with my new toothbrush, I’m out the door. No time to spare.

  I’m the last one in the bus so I squeeze into the only available seat left. Shawna sits in the row behind me and smirks as she plays on her smartphone, all while I’m trying to settle my racing heart.

  Note to self: There is no such thing as an “accident” anymore. Her toothbrush is getting dipped in toilet water.

  The ride to the studio is fairly quick by Los Angeles traffic standards. The buzz inside the vehicle bounces between excitement and vomit-inducing nerves. I’ve flip-flopped between the two emotions so many times myself that I might actually feel both–simultaneously. Nervous chitchat fills the time as we pull up in front of the large building. Then, silence ascends the now motionless vehicle.

  And I forget how to breathe.

  We’re filed inside and led to a large vestibule. Since we’re the first group of the day, the room is empty and lifeless. The ceilings are huge and echo as we all settle into the chairs provided. Women immediately begin digging out compacts and hair products while the men try to relax and warm up. Groups form as warm-up runs begin around the room. While the person standing next to you may be your biggest competition, everyone seems to be helpful and friendly towards his or her neighbor.

  Everyone except Shawna.

  The vibe around her is fearful. Her appearance can only be described as perfection in her stylish dress with a country feel. Her black leather cowboy boots are obviously brand new and expensive. Her blond hair flows gracefully down her back, towards a stunning black dress. Even as beautiful as she is, everyone avoids her like the plague as she runs through a few warm-up solo exercises. She has a loud and powerful voice, hitting all the notes with precision and ease. It’s evident that she’s going to be a frontrunner in the race for the final positions. Dammit.

  As names are called, I run through some warm-ups with a girl named Beth. She’s friendly and sings well, yet you can clearly hear the nerves in each note she sings. Unless Beth can pull it together quickly and calm her shaky voice, I don’t think she’s going to be happy with her audition today.

  Smiles actually return to the crowd as Shawna is called back. Even those that have already been cut from our group wear smiles now that she’s out of the room. I’ve watched alongside of everyone else as five of the twenty in our group have come out smiling. I am one of the last to go, though, and I hope and pray that they haven’t hit some sort of quota already for this group. Especially when Shawna comes out of the room with a beaming smile.

  Clearly she’s in.

  And if you had any doubt whatsoever, when she proudly announces, “Meet the newest Rising Star,” well, that pretty much seals it.

  My name is called next so I have little time to dwell on the fact that Shawna moves on to the next round. Right now, I need to focus on singing my song and impressing the coaches. Just one. That’s all I need is just one to flip a flag.

  When I enter the room, my lungs fail me. Their sole function in life is to provide oxygen in and out of my body. Yet, that one simple job, they can’t seem to do right now. I walk into the center of the room and give the coaches my best smile, and pray they can’t see the extent of my nervousness.

  They all return my smile. Well, three out of four. As Corie mentioned yesterday, Beau’s eyes are cast downward as he avoids looking at me. I’m not sure if I feel relief that he’s not looking at me or if that makes it worse.

  “Good morning,” Felix says with a big smile. He’s so much better looking in person. Dressed in all black, the black man’s smile is infectious as his dark eyes take in my appearance from head to toe without making me feel violated.

  “Hi,” I respond with a nod.

  “So, tell us who you are and where you hail from,” JoJo says.

  “My name is Layne Carter, and I’m from Chicago,” I respond.

  “What are you going to sing for us today?” Sophia asks as she twists her dark brown locks around her fingers.

  “I’m going to sing Journey today.”

  “Okay, we’re ready,” she responds with a blinding white smile.

  Just as the intro starts–low and slow–I notice Beau sit up straighter in his chair. While he appeared to be slouchy moments ago, now he appears eager and anxious. He still hasn’t looked up, but he seems to be all ears all of a sudden.

  “You make me weak,” I sing as I close my eyes and let the music wash over me. I love how this song starts seductively, sexy, before it turns into something entirely different. A lover scorned. Each note, word, line is sung with feeling and heart. My soul is pouring into the song as I give it everything I have. The song concludes with a much shorter version of the popular “Na na na na na” part since time is a major factor here. When I finish, I finally open my eyes. I didn’t realize that I kept them closed the entire song, but I’m standing in a different spot than I started and I’m staring at flags.

  Four flags.

  “Wow,” Felix says with a shocked expression on his handsome face.

  “That was amazing,” JoJo adds with a huge grin as Sophia shakes her head eagerly next to her.

  Then my eyes finally land on the fourth coach. His steel gray eyes are fixed so intently on me that I’m afraid I might actually burst into flames from the heat of his gaze. Unexpected desire courses recklessly through my body so fast and out of control. I take a step backwards just to try to alleviate some of the sexual tension I suddenly feel from one look from this man.

  Yowzers.

  “Beau, I can’t believe you threw your flag so fast,” Sophia says. “You seriously had it thrown before she finished that first line,” she adds with the shake of her head.

  Beau Tanner has yet to speak. I’m trapped in the heat of his eyes and the rest of it just fades away. The other coaches. The room. The reason for my trip to LA. Gone. Now, it’s just Beau and me.

  “Hello! Earth to Beau! What made you throw your flag so fast?” Sophia asks with a firm voice.

  “I, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. His eyes are like missiles shooting straight at me from underneath the brim of his low cowboy hat. “I just instantly liked what I heard. I knew, in that moment, she was the one I wanted,” he adds in that deep, rich, and incredibly sexy voice that almost makes my panties erupt in a blazing inferno. Throw in the fact that it didn’t entirely feel like he was solely referring to my singing, and I’m practically a big pile of hormonal mush on the hardwood. Shivers of something foreign sweep through my body.

  “I agree. That was amazing, Layne. You have an outstanding voice, and by the looks of it, all four of us agree. You’re on to the next round. Now, you just have to tell us what team you’re going to be on,” Felix says with another dazzling smile.

  I look over at the judges as I recall my original thought process for choosing a team. Choosing Felix’s team seems like the logical way to go. He can provide me with much needed direction from the producer side of the business. Yet, when I look at Beau, his steel eyes intoxicate me like never before. I feel a connection with him that I can’t explain. Sure, it’
s a connection that scares me a little, yet it completely leaves me yearning to find out more. Why do I feel this way about him?

  “Beau,” I say without even really processing the word. It’s one word and it seals my fate on this show. Whether it’s the right choice or not, I am on Team Beau.

  I exit the room in a haze. I barely recognize the disappointed looks on the other three coaches’ faces when they learn that I didn’t choose them. I hardly recall the directions given by Felix right before I vacated the room. The only thing I noticed was the intensity in those hypnotic gray orbs. Eyes that I will be seeing again. Very soon.

  Other contestants wait to see whether I wear a smile or a frown. I don’t think the audition has completely sunk in as I’m swept up in the crowd. The next group of hopefuls have arrived, making the vestibule crowded and suffocating, as if all of the oxygen in the room is being sucked up by everyone else, leaving little to no air for me.

  “Oh, she didn’t get in,” Shawna mocks with fake pity from behind me. “Too bad for you,” she says with a snide grin.

  “Actually, I got in,” I tell her flatly. Saying those words out loud finally helps everything sink in. The past ten minutes finally starts to come back to me in full force, and I can’t hide the smile that spreads across my face.

  I got it.

  Beth, while disappointed for herself since she wasn’t chosen, gives me a huge hug and warm congratulations. I pay no attention to Beast Barbie behind me and instead welcome the congratulations from everyone else. It’s surreal and almost feels like an out of body experience. I can clearly see the faces of those around me, but it’s like I’m not actually here.

  Keeping to myself, we make our way back to the hotel. My mind races as I mentally prepare for the next phase of the show. I’ll fly out on Friday morning, but with the knowledge that I’ll be making a return trip at the end of May. Believe it or not, I’m actually coming back to Los Angeles to perform on Rising Star.