More than Music

15

My fingers danced across the frets, and my pick pounded against the strings. I tried to lose myself in the music like in our rehearsal, but this time there was a crowd watching my every move. My chest tightened at the sight of the four mentors eyeing our performance, judging everything we did. Was I looking at my guitar too often? Or not enough? Should I move around the stage? Look out at the crowd? No, that would only make me more nervous. I should probably move though, instead of standing like a statue. But what if I moved too much and knocked something over? Or, worse, crashed into Jared? No, moving was out, too. Safer to stay in one place. Just focus on the music, I told myself. Also, don’t pass out.

At the chorus, Jared gave me an expectant look. Right, backup vocals. I leaned into the mic in front of me and joined in, but my voice was too quiet at first. Probably because I didn’t actually want anyone to hear me sing. I raised my voice and hoped Jared was hypnotizing the crowd enough that no one paid any attention to me.

Near the end of the song, the music quieted down and only Jared’s vocals filled the room, haunting and pained as he sang about how no one saw the real him. His words hit me right in the gut, like they always did. When he finished the verse, I jumped back in with the killer riff he normally played, kicking the song up a notch. The other guys joined us, a bonfire of Kyle’s synth and Hector’s drumming and Jared’s bass. The crowd went wild, and a red light lit up in front of us with a loud buzz.

I missed a note in my surprise, but the other guys never lost their place. One of the mentors had picked us! Surely the other guys were freaking out as much as I was? Hector’s steady beat immediately got me back on track, but then another buzz sounded—a second mentor wanted us! Followed by the buzz of a third! I’d been scared we wouldn’t even get one, and now we had three? I couldn’t believe it.

And then it was over. With one last note, the song ended, and the crowd roared. Somehow that had been both the longest three minutes of my life and the shortest. Sweat dripped down my face—it was freaking hot under all these lights—and adrenaline raced through my veins, making my arms tremble, but I felt more alive than ever before. This is it, I thought. This is what I want to do with my life.

The audience continued to scream, and Jared raised his arms, basking in the crowd’s love and in our victory. Kyle and Hector came out from behind their instruments to stand next to us, grinning like drunken fools.

Three of the mentors had red lights in front of them: Angel Reese, the former singer of the ‘80s glam metal band Dark Embrace, still sporting bleach blonde hair and a spiked leather jacket despite her age; Dan Dorian, the long-haired bassist and singer of Loaded River, a ‘90s grunge band that had played with Nirvana and Pearl Jam; and Lance Bentley, a young pop star who personified tall, dark, and handsome. He’d won the last three years of The Sound, but rumor had it that he’d slept his way through all the women on his team. No thank you.

The only one who didn’t buzz for us was Lissa Cruz, a beautiful brunette country singer who was known for being the sweetest mentor on the show. That was okay—we needed a coach, not a cheerleader.

The host of the show, Ray Carter, joined us at the front of the stage. He was probably in his late 40s, with overly gelled black hair, skin that screamed “spray tan,” and a flashy white suit.

“That was one of the best things I’ve heard all day,” he said into his mic. “And the audience clearly loves you. Who are you and where are you from?”

“We’re Villain Complex from here in Los Angeles,” Jared said, and the crowd cheered even louder. I couldn’t believe they were making this much noise for us.

“That was killer,” Angel said. “I need you on my team! I—”

Dan cut her off. “Yeah, I loved the way you—”

“Hey, I was talking!” Angel snapped. “Wait your turn.”

Dan rolled his eyes but gestured for her to continue. This was normal for the show; part of the draw was seeing the mentors bicker between each other. Still, it was crazy that two musicians whose songs I’d listened to for years were fighting over us. Was this really my life? How did I get here? Angel started again. “As I was saying, I love your sound, I love your look, and I think you’d be perfect for my team. With my help, you could definitely win this thing.”

“Are you done with your sales pitch yet?” Dan asked her and then continued before she could answer. “Look. You’ve got the raw talent. You’ve got the skills. You’ve also got some things you need to work on, but I can take you to the next level.”

“No, this band is mine!” Angel said, slamming her fist on the table. “I buzzed in first!”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Dan said.

“But I want them. I want them so bad.” She practically fell out of her seat saying it, and the crowd went wild. “Okay, you’ve heard from two of the mentors,” Ray said. “Lance, you want to chime in?”

Lance leaned forward, his dark gaze slowly taking us all in. “Listen. I’ve won The Sound three times already. Join me and we’ll win.”

“That’s it?” Ray asked, after a brief pause.

Lance shrugged and sat back. “That’s all I need to say. They know what the right choice is.”