More than Music

24

“I saw your mom today, and she asked how you’re doing.” Julie paused, and I could feel her judgment in the silence. “You didn’t tell her about the show?”

“No, I haven’t spoken to her in…” Honestly, I wasn’t sure how long it had been. “A while.”

“Maddie!”

“I know, I know. I should have told her.” I sighed. Everything with my mother was so difficult, it was easier to just ignore that part of my life sometimes. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, and it was seriously uncomfortable. You need to tell her.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll call her tomorrow.” I blew on my nails, debating whether or not to ask the thing I really wanted to know. “How’s she doing? Is she…”

“She looks good. Better. She said she’s been sober for three months now.”

I closed my eyes, relieved. I didn’t think it would stick, but at least she was trying. Again. “Where did you see her?”

“At the store. She was buying cigarettes.”

“Of course.” The only two things my mom would leave the house for: booze and cigarettes. “How’s your family?”

“Ugh, all they want to talk about is my sister and how wonderful she is. They’d trade me in for a clone of her in an instant.”

I laughed and started painting my toenails while Julie told me all about her time back home. It should have made me homesick, but it didn’t. When I’d turned eighteen, I’d gotten out of that place as fast as I could, and I had no regrets.

On Friday, we went to a different part of the studio to record our version of the song so The Sound could sell it on the website. The more songs a band sold, the better they did in the live shows; though for this episode, they’d just earn us some extra cash. Angel was supposed to attend the recording session, but, surprise surprise, she never showed up.

The other guys had rented a recording studio before to make their album, but I’d only recorded music for school so a lot of it was new to me. The sound guys advised us from the control room while one of the producers watched—a guy named Steve who wore the biggest watch I’d ever seen, along with a suit that probably cost more than my car.

In the live room, we played through the song together a few times, and then we each recorded our part of the song alone, too. When it was my turn, I played my guitar with the headphones on, just me and the music, the sound clear and beautiful while everything else faded away. Jared went last, recording the vocals while the rest of us watched, his eyes closed as he emptied his soul into the lyrics. I’d never seen someone who could channel emotion like he did every time he sang, like each word was being ripped out of him. His voice stirred something deep inside me, a longing that was almost painful, a desire I couldn’t ignore. I ached to pull him into my arms and press my lips to his, to feel him pour that same passion into me.

Saturday was our last practice before the battle, and it was starting to look like Angel would be a no-show for that, too. I grabbed some coffee during our break and prepared to settle in for our last three hours of rehearsal. We’d gotten the song down, and now it was only a matter of practicing until we felt confident we wouldn’t make any mistakes tomorrow.

We still had about ten minutes to relax before we started again, so I sipped my coffee and played with my guitar picks. Hector was sprawled across the floor drawing in his sketchbook while Kyle and Jared talked quietly, heads ducked close together. Brother stuff, I guessed.

The door banged open, and a stream of people entered with cameras and other equipment, followed by Angel and her assistants. The four of us just gaped at them as they set up around the room.

“All right,” Angel said. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.” When none of us moved, she snapped her fingers a few times. “I only have a few minutes, so hurry it up.”

Unbelievable. She didn’t show all week, and now she acted like we were wasting her time? Still, we each scrambled up and got in place while she grabbed a stool and sat in front.

“Any day now,” she said.

Jared scowled, but he adjusted his mic and we started the song. We were all off this time, the pressure of the camera crew and of Angel’s gaze making us each mess up. When she turned to me, I lost place of where I was in the song, and I had to make my mind blank for a second to find where we were so I could jump back in.

“Stop, stop,” Angel said, waving a hand at us. “You on guitar, what happened there?”

“I—I just got distracted, sorry.”

“Whatever, just get it together. And you,” she said to Jared. “You need to step it up.” She flicked a hand at the camera crew. “Okay, let's film this one and get this over with.”

Jared gripped the mic so hard I was surprised it didn’t break, but he said nothing and we started again. Angel let us finish this time and then plastered on her fake cheer now that the cameras were rolling.

“That was great!” she said with a little clap. “I love the way you’ve twisted the song and made it darker. I’m so happy you chose me for your mentor!”

Kyle snorted and then covered his mouth with his hand like he couldn’t believe that had escaped. Angel’s eyes narrowed at him, but then her phone rang—playing her band’s most popular song, of course. She held up a finger to us as she raised the phone to her ear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jared muttered.