More than Music

22

“I should go,” I said, jumping off the bed. “Early morning and all that.”

“Right.” He walked me to the door. I stepped outside, and he lingered in the doorway. “Maddie,” he said, and I turned back, wanting something I wasn’t ready to name yet. But all he said was, “Goodnight.”

The next morning I downloaded “Somebody Told Me” and listened to it on repeat as I got ready. During my elevator ride to the lobby, I got so into picking apart the guitar chords that I nearly crashed into Jared when I stepped out.

“Hey,” Jared said, giving me a quick once-over with a smile. “You look great.”

“Thanks.” I flushed, but reminded myself that Jared always said things like that. It didn't mean anything. He was just a flirt.

Julie had helped me get my wardrobe ready for my time on the show, including an all-day shopping event over the weekend. Everyone had to be prepared to be filmed at any time, so I had to keep up my rocker look for the next few weeks. Today I was wearing a long, one-shouldered top over black-and-white-striped leggings and ankle boots. But I was more surprised by what Jared wore; over his black jeans, he had on a T-shirt with the classic Joker and Harley Quinn on it.

“Oh, wow, I love your shirt,” I said.

“Yeah? They’re my favorite Batman villains.”

“Mine too! They’re like the Bonnie and Clyde of comics.” I paused before revealing the next bit since it might cross the line, but I decided to let my geek flag fly. “I’m actually dressing up as Harley Quinn for Comic-Con next month.”

“Really?” he asked, as we moved to a spot near the revolving doors to wait for Kyle and Hector.

“I know, it’s pretty nerdy, but my friend Julie is making all the costumes. She’s going to be Poison Ivy and my other friend Carla is going to be Catwoman.”

“Gotham City’s most dangerous women. I like it.”

“That’s the idea.”

“You know, we’re all going to Comic-Con, too. Maybe I’ll dress up as the Joker.” He winked at me.

That wink was dangerous. It could get a girl in trouble. And was he saying he wanted to go as a couple? Or was I reading too much into that comment? “You’re all going to Comic-Con?”

“Yep. Hector’s going to promote his graphic novel, and he got me a ticket, too. Kyle is going with Alexis, who’s taking photos for the website she works for. I’ve never been before, so I’m excited.”

“We went the last two years. It was amazing.”

I told him about it as we waited for the other guys—waking up at 3 AM to get in line for the biggest panels, eating nothing but pretzel dogs and mini-pizzas for days, the unbelievable number of people crammed into the exhibit hall, plus all the incredible costumes and free swag. Jared listened intently and asked questions, and in return, I asked all about Hector’s graphic novel. Hector had done the artwork, inking, and coloring, but someone he’d met online had written the script. The band really did live up to their geeky name.

Jared’s phone buzzed, and I stood close enough to sneak a peek when he checked it. The text was from someone named Michelle and said, “hey sexy wanna get 2gether 2nite?” He shot me a quick glance and shoved the phone back in his pants without answering. He probably didn’t want me to see what he wrote back. It had to be from one of his many groupies or maybe someone he’d met on the show. One of those girls from the audition perhaps? The girl with the mohawk and chainmail bikini? Did she seem like a Michelle? Whatever. Jared’s s*x life was none of my business.

When the other guys arrived, we walked the three blocks to the address we'd been given for the studio, and Jared told us how Villain Complex’s social media sites had all gained thousands of followers overnight. More people had visited our website in the last day than ever before, and many were even buying the album. It was crazy to think we now had fans all over the country, rooting for us and anxious to see our next performance. Even more pressure to do a good job on this week’s show.

We stopped at a brick building that looked like it had once been a factory or something. The windows were all dark so we couldn’t see inside, and there was no sign or anything—just a number on the black door.

“Is this it?” I asked, checking the address again on our schedule. “Must be,” Kyle said.

We stepped inside and found a lounge with dark couches scattered around the room, plus an attached kitchen area with coffee and food. A guy at a reception desk directed us to room four, where our gear was waiting for us in a soundproofed studio. Someone from the show had dropped off sheet music, and I studied the guitar tabs, mentally replaying the song in my head. I was already familiar with “Somebody Told Me,” but singing along to it on the radio and playing it with the band was a totally different story. I hadn’t been lying to Jared, though—I did have an ear for this stuff. I set down the papers after a quick once-over and tried out the opening guitar riff. It was easy but very catchy with the way the chords got higher and higher. The other guys tried some things, too, testing out their own parts of the song. After a few minutes, Jared turned to face all of us.