The host moved on, announcing dramatically, “Finnigan, you’re in the bottom three.”
Then, as if it wasn’t already obvious to everyone, he tried to create an air of suspense before saying, “Sawyer, you’re in the bottom three.”
Sawyer joined the others, and then we all stood together again, as the show wrapped. We’d all been here before.
“Tomorrow, Finnigan, Sawyer and Rihanne will sing to stay, but one of them will go home,” the host said. “Tune in and find out tomorrow which one.”
Sawyer whispered to us, “That’s not grammatically correct.”
I laughed. True, but it didn’t matter.
The host then joined us and said, “Good luck everyone.”
The lights went off and I closed my eyes. I was safe for now, but this still needed my absolute focus.
I will not lose because of a man, or because I’m falling in love, I told myself. I was not like Phoenix. I had to fight for everything I wanted. And being a solo star was exactly what I planned.
15
Phoenix
The judges had gotten it right, for once. I showered as if I’d been on the stage earlier and not on my couch. I could feel the bright lights burn through my skin even though I hadn’t been there.
Maggie had been amazing and the judges had finally acknowledged her brilliance.
Mark’s text caught my attention the moment I stepped out of the shower and checked my phone on the sink counter.
The studio wanted me to write a Christmas love song. An all-new romantic Christmas duet.
I pulled on the cotton pajama pants I wore around the house and wished it had been Maggie who’d called.
I missed her the most right now and wished I could hold her in my arms. Instead, I settled into my studio and wrote out a composition that sprang from my heart.
As I worked on the second bridge to tweak it, my phone rang. I picked it up and saw the caller ID.
My heart woke up and adrenaline shot through me as I answered. “Maggie, I’m glad you called.”
“I had to,” she said. “I wasn’t even sure you’d answer.”
“You were amazing tonight,” I told her.
She let out a small laugh and said, “You should have been a judge. Everyone here misses you, including me.”
In another life we’d be together. But not in this one. I asked, “Do you miss me?”
Her voice was melancholy. “I didn’t give my all to this competition when you were here. My total focus, like I would have if I hadn’t been falling for you.”
Everything inside me stilled as I asked, “You fell for me?”
A small sob echoed in my ear. Her words were like daggers to my skin as she said, “I wanted to believe you and your promises. I let you distract me, and you walked away from me.”
The only promises I’d made to her were to fix the deal for the Christmas songs and set up a meeting with Mark. I wanted more, but she saw me for what I was. Someone who didn’t deserve another shot.
I massaged the back of my scalp to calm down and said, “I didn’t leave you. I have my own opportunities that will work better if I’m off the show. I’m about to write a new song for my own album, part of the deal Mark struck for me.”
She said, “Look, I want to win. So I need to focus on the opportunity in front of me.”
“I get it,” I said. “I’m hoping you win.”
She sighed into the phone, like she was struggling to make me understand. “I can’t let you steal my focus anymore. I came all this way to win and I need to do this on my own.”
So this was it. We’d crashed and burned. It was over. I ignored how my chest trembled as I said, “I understand.”
The moment I met her, I knew she’d break me, but I went after her anyhow. Now here it was. I was broken, and the epitaph on my tombstone would read “broken” for everyone to see.
All I’d have was the memory of her sweet kiss on my lips. I’d have to get that feeling down on paper. Somehow. Memories were all I had now.
I tried to hold back the emptiness in my soul as she said, “Good. Goodbye, Phoenix.”
This was it. I reached for the button to end the call, knowing it would somehow sever my existence, too. But at the last moment I stopped and said, “One second.”
“What?
I squeezed my eyes shut. My muscles tensed. She needed the whole truth, so I said, “I love you. And because I do, I won’t bother you again.”
“Bye.”
And then the silence was louder than anything else.
I held the phone next to my ear like I didn’t want to let go of what was already gone. I’d lost the good in my life.
And the thought of the escape I could find in a bottle of vodka pulsated in my veins. Luckily, I didn’t have any here and I tossed my phone in the trash. If I called Hank to go get me some, I’d turn into my father.
It was that image that made me focus on the page in front of me.
Write a Christmas song, Mark had said.
It was time. Lyrics poured out of me and I wrote them down without thinking.
For Christmas
My gift is my goodbye
You desire your distance
It hurts. But you deserve to simplify
And my chorus was dark with the simple, Alone at Christmas.
Probably no one was going to relate to this, or even want to hear it. But I wrote it down anyway and recorded a rough version.
Done. I’d finished what I’d been asked to do, and I sent the demo to Mark.
He called me right away.
Guess none of us sleep anymore.
I quickly said, “Mark, you’re not going to like this song.”
“I’m the judge here, Phoenix,” he said, and the first note played in the air.
I let my head hit the desk and kept it down as I said, “Don’t be excited.”
The song played, and as the last note ended he said, “I always give my honest opinion.”
I expected to be told to brighten it up. Christmas is happy. But he said, “Clean it up and send me the revised demo.”
How? It was horrible. I sat up and asked, “Why?”
I could imagine Mark already sitting at his desk, calculating his earnings, which was what he did every time he listened to any song. And his math was usually right on.
“Because,” he said, “this could be enough for both of us to retire on.”
“Doubtful.” That was based on his faulty belief I was worth more than I am.
He whistled the haunting tune back to me for a second and then said, “It’s my job to sell it. Clean that song up and get it to me.”
“Okay,” I answered. I had nothing else to say.
I was spent.
Music and pouring words into songs was all I had. I’d never mentioned Maggie, but she was in every note.
As I finished one round of editing, I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock.
It was time to meet Fiona. I cleaned up and headed out to the agreed upon coffee shop.
I joined the line to get an herbal tea and took a seat just as she came in.
She seemed fresh and clean and no scars were visible. She grabbed her drink and joined me.
“Well,” she said, “I’m here.”
I took a deep breath and then nodded as I said, “I wanted to apologize to you properly for what happened.”
“Thanks, but that was years ago.” She sipped her coffee like it was some elixir she needed. “But it’s nice that you reached out like this to say that.”
I stared into the blue-green eyes that had haunted me for years. “I blamed myself for your career tanking.”
“What? What?” She put her cup down. “What I said on the show was harsh and scripted.”
“I felt guilty long before the show,” I said, lowering my head. “I went into rehab after the accident. When I came out, you’d left town and I didn’t know how to contact you to apologize in person.”
She reached out for my h
and. “I did leave town. I got married, had two children, and life has been pretty good to me.”
The weight on my shoulders didn’t go away. I said, “But you didn’t follow your dreams.”
“Yes I did.” She leaned closer. “I found people who loved me, and I love them. And singing helped me pay for a house, get a good car, and have some savings in the bank for just in case.”
My skin tingled like the weight might just drop off my shoulders. “That’s all you wanted?”
She laughed. “I was the opening act for Indigo 5. That’s pretty awesome. The accident helped me remember my own goals and go home.”
She sipped her coffee again and said, “Thanks for meeting me.”
She showed me pictures of her children, a boy and a girl, and her husband. As I finished my tea, I realized she told the truth. She was happy.
A few minutes later, we left.
I headed home, not sure what had just happened.
It was like I was free.
And I went back to my studio to write down more songs that were springing out of me.
I must have slept at some point, because I woke up on my black leather studio couch, with sunshine spreading through the glass roof.
My face felt stiff. I glanced out at my lawn and then headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I’d get coffee and start again soon.
Food held little appeal, not until I finished my ode to Maggie.
I finished making my coffee, feeling slightly cleaner in fresh clothes, and headed back to my studio where I found my phone ringing.
I stilled. The number was Vegas. I picked it up, knowing exactly who it was and said, “Mom, I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”
I heard vulnerability in her voice as she said, “We were always surrounded by people and cameras at the show. It was hard for your father and me to tell you what we wanted.”
There was more? I rubbed my face and turned away from the desk I was sitting at as I asked, “What was it?”
She had the same vibrations in her voice as she said, “You hurt us when you kicked us out of your life, but we were happy you had your aunt and uncle watching out for you. Your dad always knew his brother would be the one that turned out okay.”
Inside, I was still the teenager who saw my parents drinking all the time, ignoring whatever I did, while spending my money as fast as it hit the account. “You weren’t being responsible with my money.”
“We’re sorry about that.”
“Is that what you wanted to say?”
“No.”
I grabbed a water from the refrigerator in the studio and asked, “Then what?”
“We were both more upset that we lost you. You were our only son and we were so stupid and self-centered, we didn’t see how wonderful you are.”
“Thanks,” I said. It would take me a while to process this, to decide if I believed her.
There was a pause, and then she added, “And I don’t know if you realize that your cousins are too proud to tell you what’s going on with them.”
“What’s happening?”
“Money is tight for them and Georgiana’s a single mom.”
“I’ll talk to them.” Georgie was one of my older cousins. I talked to her like she was my mini-mom whenever I had girl questions. If she was struggling, I’d help. “I didn’t know you were in touch with them.”
I took a sip of water and put the bottle down, as she said, “Georgie reached out first and wished us Merry Christmas a while back. She made me hope one day we’d get to apologize to you.”
That sounded like her. Georgie and my other cousins were the only people I considered family. Her parents had watched over me. Now I wanted to be there for her. I said, “Thanks for telling me.”
My mom said, “We all make mistakes, Phoenix. But we also have to find a way to bury them and move on.”
Now that shook my core, like she saw right through me. I hadn’t thought anyone ever could, but I couldn’t tell her that. Instead, I just said, “You have a bit of a poet in you, Mom.”
“I always thought you got your talent from me.”
And if they’d cared about me, then honestly, I needed that. Even if all it ever amounted to now were occasional phone calls. I turned toward my studio that always made me money as I asked, “Are you still taking prescription painkillers?”
“I’m in rehab. So is your father. Look … I … I’m not proud of what I did to you.”
“Mom, I forgive you.” But I could do more than that. They’d moved to Los Angeles for me and I’d never thanked them. I tossed them out.
“I hope we can see you again.”
“We’ll talk soon,” I said. I decided that if the Christmas music made money, then I’d give this a new shot.
I worked on another round of edits and part of me hated every syllable and every note I heard from every instrument. But then I picked up my phone and took a break.
No one had called. No one would. I texted my agent and said, Mark, I’ll finish up this song but I want you to split 20% of whatever I earn from it to my cousins that I grew up with.
Are you sure? he texted back.
They are the closest family I ever had. And can you have the bank set up an account for my mom and dad? I’m going to drip them monthly money to see how they handle it before I set up a plan for them.
Get me the new songs and let me work my magic for you.
Look for this one by the end of the day.
This wouldn’t make up for kicking them out of my life, but maybe it was a start to ensuring they were secure in their old age. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to love my parents the way Maggied loved hers, but, for better or worse, I could help my parents.
16
Maggie
Goodbye Phoenix.
How had I said those words last night? I splashed cold water on my face from the sink and wished it could wash away what I’d done.
Phoenix still starred in my dreams. If he was on the level, maybe I was a fool.
He said he loved me.
I didn’t make that up. I wish I knew what to do.
I walked out of the bathroom and toward my assigned practice room with the band.
Today felt like the worst day in my life already, and it hadn’t even started.
But I warmed up as the band rehearsed. The love song they’d given me just made me think about Phoenix, but it didn’t matter.
When the band and I broke, I intended to get breakfast. But the nice judge came in and said, “I just came to your rehearsals to talk to you.”
I grabbed my now-lukewarm tea with lemon for my voice that the staff had delivered an hour ago and asked, “Yeah?”
He took a seat on my chair and said, “The show’s ratings were through the roof when you kissed Phoenix.”
That kiss and that moment came back in vivid color in my mind, but I finished my sip and said, “I didn’t kiss him for that.”
He stood up and walked over to me and said, “And last night you were the clear winner. You’re good.”
“Thanks.”
“You know my wife?”
“Everyone does,” I said quickly. He was married to a superstar.
“Our marriage works because we balance our careers and come home to each other. Because we’re not just in love, we also trust each other.”
His words struck deep. My stomach was in knots and my skin had pins and needles from those words. I blinked, and then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”
He came closer and took my hand like we were friends as he said, “Because you’re talented. I enjoyed watching you shine. And you and Phoenix remind me of my wife and me. You can have it all if you have trust.”
Should I trust him? I lowered my head as I asked, “Why aren’t you more vocal during the judging?”
He shrugged and said, “I wanted out of the production entirely, but my agent couldn’t negotiate it. I know that’s selfish, but I hadn’t realized they’d put themselves over the
contestants like this.”
Being selfish wasn’t any worse than tossing out the best man in my life because I was afraid to trust him. I nodded and said, “Thank you for giving me something to think about.”
He then pressed his hand on my arm and said, “I heard you have Mark Powers asking questions about you.”
Phoenix had been on the level.
I rubbed my face and tried to wrap my head around the idea of meeting a dream agent and signing with him, with or without the show. I said, “I’ve never met the guy, to be honest. I wasn’t about to risk my place on the show for the possibility of meeting an agent who might not like me.”
His brown eyes widened. “You keep singing like you did last night and you’ll win.”
“For once my song matched my skills. I didn’t need to learn a new arrangement or lyrics.”
He put his hands in his pockets and said, “If I could offer all the finalists recording contracts, I would. Most definitely you.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
He left and I picked up my notes.
My conversation with Phoenix echoed in my head. Phone breakups were weak. There were things that needed to be said face to face. I was out of my mind, but I finished my lukewarm tea and left to get ready for rehearsal.
Time to prepare for the last time. I fixed myself up in the dorm, went to hair and makeup, and spent the rest of my day in a daze, really.
I’d ended things with Phoenix because I didn’t trust him. And he’d said he loved me.
I loved him, but I didn’t even like myself right now. As I lined up with the other contestants, Rihanne in her sparkly blue cowboy boots stood beside me and asked, “Maggie, are you ready?”
I nodded and said, “Rihanne, I’m nervous, to be honest. I think this is the end for me.”
She let out a snort and said, “Me too. I’ve been wondering what it’s like to be Jane.”
Huh? I tilted my head as the lights for the show came on and the host worked the stage in front of us. I asked, “What do you mean?”
She pointed to the first person in the line and said, “Jane has never been in the bottom three.”
True. But I whispered back quickly, “There’s no guarantee.”
Legendary Rock Star: Enemies to Lovers Romance (Steel Series Book 1) Page 12
