Music Notes (13 page)

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Authors: Lacey Black

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy

BOOK: Music Notes
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“It would surprise me if she
didn’t
try something of those sorts,” I mumble.

“She’s kind of a piranha, isn’t she?” he whispers with a full smile.

“You don’t even know the half of it. At least you’re not rooming with her,” I tell him with a chuckle.

“Seriously? That has to be the roughest thing I’ve heard all day,” he says. “I’d let ya room with me if I could.” The statement forces all of the air out of my lungs in one big swoosh. Breathing suddenly seems like the biggest chore ever. My widened eyes remain locked on his, words seem completely lost.
Oh God, I can’t form a sentence!

After several seconds, he finally says, “Why are you glarin’ at me?”

“Oh,” I start, snapping out of my funk. “It’s not you, it’s just -” I say as I bring my hand up and try to rub Shawna’s lipstick off of his cheek. His skin is warm and rough and the whiskers tickle my fingertips. But it’s the invisible lightning strike that singes my lady parts. Sexual energy floods my body like never before.

“She left lipstick?” he asks without moving his face from my hand.

“Yeah. This shade of pink isn’t exactly your color,” I tease with a small smile.

He chuckles as I attempt to free him of her marking. Unfortunately, all I really do is smear it. “I think you’re going to have to scrub it off. I basically just smeared it around,” I say as I drop my hand. Even though I’m not touching him anymore, I can’t seem to make myself move. I’m held hostage by some invisible pull towards his body.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he says as his hand comes up, hovering next to my face. I can see so much in his eyes and face. Question. Longing. Desire. My face burns as the deep blush takes over when Beau tucks a long stand of my hair behind my eyes.

“Okay,” I finally mumble almost incoherently.

“Oh,” he says as he leans forward. His breath fans across my cheek and ear. Goosebumps pepper my entire body as desire courses uncontrollably through me like a freight train.
Oh, God.
“I really like your hair this way. Totally hot,” he whispers against my ear causing me to shiver before he pulls back, turns, and walks away.

I’m left standing, reeling. I’m seriously questioning my ability to walk right now. Just standing seems to take every ounce of energy I possess. I watch Beau’s retreating backside as he makes his way to the table. The corded muscles of his back are evident through his thin, gray t-shirt. The way his jeans hug his ass causes warmth to flood between my legs. Those Wranglers leave nothing to the imagination, that’s for sure.

I gather my stuff, my pride, and my sense and head out of the colossal room. The cool air kisses my overly heated skin as soon as I’m in the atrium. Shawna stands next to Gabby and a few other production assistants as I make my way towards the group. The look she gives me lets me know she suspects something. What? Hell, maybe when she figures it out, she’ll let me know. Because I’m as confused as ever.

 

*****

 

Hair–check. Caked on make-up–check. Hooker heels and leather pants–check and check. Deodorant–double, triple, quadruple check!

I pace back and forth in the large sitting room behind the stage. Contestants range from biting their fingernails to nervously crossing and then re-crossing their legs while we wait for the live show to begin. Ben, Corie and Troy have all tried to engage me in conversation, but I can’t seem to focus on their words.

I am in the group to perform tonight. Corie will perform tomorrow night so her state of nervousness isn’t anywhere close to what I’m feeling right now.
Am I really here? Am I good enough to perform on National television? Can I win against someone like Shawna?

Speaking of the devil, I glance over and see her casually running her French tips through her blond extensions as if she has not a care in the world. The fact that she’s not nervous, clearly having done this sort of thing before, has my nerve ends exposed and completely frayed.
I can’t do this.

Suddenly, the four lead production assistants–one for each team–step into the large room. “Five minutes until we’re live,” the first man says. “Let’s go, everyone.”

The room clears out fast, as if no one wants to be the last one out, and we all make our way to the main studio. The assistants arrange us by team and then by height. The crowd hypnotizes me. This room is huge, but when you fill it to capacity, it seems almost titanic. Like the biggest room I’ve ever seen. And that doesn’t help my nervousness.

“One minute,” someone yells from behind the camera at center stage. The lights for the stage aren’t on yet, but I imagine it’ll be only a matter of moments before we’re baking under the intense beams.

“Remember to smile,” Gabby says to us before running off the stage.

I clasp and re-clasp my hands together behind my back. I’ve been in these shoes for almost four hours and my arches are starting to throb. I long to sit, even for just a few minutes, and take some of the pressure off my swollen toes.

“Five, four, three, two…” The crowd erupts on cue and the
Rising Star
jingle starts up. I paste on my best smile, not knowing which camera is pointed where. For all I know, three of the five cameras are angled on me at this exact moment, just waiting for me to pick my nose or check for lipstick by scrubbing my finger over my teeth with my finger on National television.

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to
Rising Star
! I’m your host, Becker James, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to show you the amazing group of rising talent that we have in store for you this season. Are you ready to meet our returning coaches?” Again, the crowd erupts into thunderous applause. “Help me welcome JoJo Warner, Sophia, Felix Booker, and Beau Tanner!”

Every girl screams her excitement as the gorgeous cowboy struts onto the stage. I’m mesmerized by his grace and male beauty as he throws a wave at the crowd. A full watt smile sparkles from beneath his signature hat, and I practically swoon like these young girls in the audience. The pain in my feet and my uneasiness are suddenly forgotten as Beau walks over and stands directly next to me. He accidentally–or completely on purpose, take your pick–bumps into my arm with his. Its skin on skin contact and I’m pretty sure I’m now blushing on National television. When I look at him out of the corner of my eye, I see him grinning a little smirk. Yep, definitely not an accident.

“Our first round of eliminations is tonight. Team Sophia is up first. Are you ready?”

After the applause dies down and we cut to commercial break, all of the contestants, except the two up first, head back into the waiting room. Several cameras hover nearby, documenting our every movement. I grab a bottle of water from the glass cooler, determined to give myself something to do and stay hydrated. There’s no television in this room, though every once in a while, you can hear the cheers of the audience.

“The coaches are singing together now,” Gabby says from the doorway just before leading the next duet out to another waiting area.

Over the next hour, we watch twosomes leave the room and not return. We’re told that the winners and the losers of the duets are separated into different post-show rooms where interviews are conducted for the show’s website, as well as with a few entertainment news channels. The winners will return to the stage at the end of the evening while the losers will be escorted to the hotel until their fate is decided at the end of next week’s final coaches’ elimination round. Done. It’s that quick. As if all of your hard work and dedication didn’t matter in the least.

Ben is in the first twosome to go on Team Beau. I give him a quick, friendly hug moments before he follows Gabby out the door and towards the stage. I wish I could watch their performance, or at the very least, see if Beau chooses him to advance or not. Ben was wearing standard dark jeans with his tan cowboy boots. His white and blue button down shirt is wrinkle-free and his brown cowboy hat, spotless. He looks every bit the handsome cowboy he is. Too bad I just don’t feel that spark.

After several minutes, Gabby returns to gather the next duet. It continues on this path until Shawna and I are the only remaining contestants to perform tonight. At this point, my nerves are all over the place. I’m excited and so scared that I probably couldn’t even tell you my name right now. I just pray that Becker waits to ask us questions until
after
we perform.

Finally, the moment is here. Gabby returns and Shawna and I follow her out. We walk down the long corridor that leads to the main studio. The closer we get, the louder the commotion around us. I can hear two contestants singing their hearts out on stage right now and the audience’s applause when they’re done.

This is it. I’m next.

Gabby and another guy, I think his name is Duncan, position me and Shawna at the edge of the stage. When I take the microphone she offers, there’s a slight tremble in my hand. God, I hope that doesn’t show up on camera.

“Welcome back to
Rising Star
. Our final duet of the evening is up next. Shawna Reece and Layne Carter have spent the past week with their coach, Beau Tanner. Let’s take a look at how their rehearsals went,” Becker says to the audience.

While their attention is focused on the screen above the stage, the production staff ushers us out to our marks on the stage. Part of me wants to turn and look at myself on the screen, but I don’t think my nerves can handle it. The best thing to do is just to stare straight ahead and focus on getting through this performance. But when I look straight ahead, I’m staring directly into steel gray eyes.

Beau focuses all of his intensity directly at me. The crazy thing, though, is that it doesn’t get me worked up. No. It does the complete opposite. As I gaze at Beau, tension seems to leave my body. Everything fades away. It’s as if there’s only him and me. Beau and me. Together.

“And now, the sixth and final performance for Team Beau, Shawna and Layne,” Becker says as he steps off the stage.

Moments later the familiar melody that I could now sing backwards in my sleep starts. The lights are bright and warm, but it doesn’t seem as bad as yesterday’s run through. I smile automatically at Beau who returns the smile. My heart practically beats out of my chest as I move the mic up to my mouth and sing.

I walk towards center stage, and my eyes remain focused on Beau. While he’s watching me perform, peace and reassurance radiating off of him, and any lingering restraint breaks free. This is it. My element. Even though I’m standing on a stage larger than ever before, singing before millions on live National television, I feel the calm and peace settle over me like a warm blanket.

I give everything I have into the performance. Even though Shawna steps into my path multiple times–as predicted–I don’t let it get to me. No one can get to me right now. I connect with the audience as I belt out each note, singing to each one personally. Without even realizing it, I’m completely consumed by the music as it pulls me from one end of the stage to the other. My body moves in ways that would probably cause a little embarrassment if I really stopped to think about it. But I don’t. I don’t think. I feel.

At the end of the song, I know that win or lose, I gave it my all. Goosebumps prickle my skin as I make my way towards Becker at the center of the stage. Shawna comes over and stands next to me, and after several long seconds, we each wave at the continued cheering crowd. Her pink dress and white cowboy boots sparkle under the intense lighting and her golden hair looks like a halo. She’s the complete opposite of me as I stand in my black leather pants and my black and purple top and matching hair.

“What a performance,” Becker says to the audience. “This may be the showdown of the night, folks. Before we get to Beau and his incredibly hard decision, let’s chat with the other coaches. Felix?”

“Wow. That was amazing. Shawna, you dazzled us all with your beautiful voice in your audition, and I could tell right away that you would be a crowd favorite. Layne, you surprise me most of all. Every time you open your mouth, beauty and soul spills forth. This was an astounding performance, ladies, and I don’t envy your coach right now,” Felix says.

After Sophia and JoJo each give their comments, Becker turns his attention towards Beau who has remained calm and collected the entire time, as if his decision was already made. That can’t be good for me.

“I’ll be honest, when I went into this, I thought I’d have an easier time makin’ my decision. Shawna has been probably
the
frontrunner of the show since auditions months back. Singin’ seems so effortless to her, and she has been outstandin’ in every practice we’ve had.”

Cold chills of dread slide through my body.

“And Layne,” he starts and shakes his head before turning to look directly at me. “I don’t know what it is about you. From the first note I heard come from your mouth, I’ve been entranced by you. I knew you’d have your work cut out for you when I paired you up to duet with Shawna, and even though you struggled a bit with your first country song, I think you’re the Cinderella story of the hour.” He turns his attention to Becker. “I don’t want to make this decision,” he adds with another shake of his head.

“Well, unfortunately, Beau, you do have to make a decision. Who are you taking with you to the next round for Team Beau? Shawna or Layne?”

Members of the audience scream out their choices while I hold my breath and wait for Beau’s answer. This is it. End of the road or one more hurdle overcome.

“I think I have my decision. This one was by far the hardest one I’ve had to make tonight, but I gotta do it. The sixth member of Team Beau and the person movin’ on to the next round is…” Beau takes another glance between Shawna and me. My heart is beating at stroke level and is painfully lodged in my throat. I want to jump up and down and just yell, “Pick already!” But I don’t. Instead, I focus on my need to pee.

Note to self:  Pee before you go on stage and stand before a live studio audience of thousands.

“Layne.” I almost completely miss that single word. Even though my eyes are glued to his face, I barely process what he’s saying. The audience? Shawna’s audible gasp? Becker talking into the microphone on the other side of her? I hear nothing. Relief and joy replace the coiled tension in my body as I tear up and smile blindingly from the stage at the man sitting at the table.

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