"Amy."
I looked at him.
His eyes were sympathetic. "If it helps, think of it as Misty doing it, not you."
I shook my head. "The words'll be out there either way. Let me change it, okay?"
"There's no time. Honestly, you should be rehearsing it now."
I took a deep breath. "Give me five minutes."
"You're going to rewrite it in five minutes?"
I had to. I pulled myself up straighter. "I'll fix the parts I can't live with, yes."
He shook his head. "Jo still has to approve it, you know."
True, but I could tell he was willing to let me try. "I know."
"Five minutes." He gave me the lyrics sheet and a pen. "I've got a phone call to make then I'll come back. Get going."
I did. Though I longed to scrap the whole thing I knew that would never fly. Instead, I tweaked and adjusted, keeping Tim's rhymes and the pattern of his syllables while changing the song from 'do what you want with me, I'm yours' to 'we both want this and we're ready for what might happen afterwards'. As I worked, I took occasional quick glances out the front window of the coffee shop to make sure Tim was still on the phone.
Halfway through the last verse, I saw him slip his phone into his pocket and head back inside. Not wanting him to stop me before I finished, I worked even faster, thinking with all my might. When I finished, I'd turned the song into something I could stand to sing. I leaned back in my chair, shaking out my aching writing hand, and looked for Tim.
He accepted his change from the cashier then turned to look at me. I smiled, and he came back to the table bearing two cups. "So?" He sank into his chair and passed me my new drink. "How'd it go? Fixed everything?"
Not quite mocking me but clearly not taking me seriously either. I didn't like it. "You tell me." I pushed the paper to him.
I watched his eyes as he skimmed the sheet once then went back to the beginning and read more slowly. His facial expression never changed, but his eyes did, and I knew what he'd say before he set down the sheet and said, "Nice. Really nice, Amy."
Though I'd known what was coming, happiness and pride still lit me up. "Thank you. Will Jo go for it?"
He gave me a very slow nod. "She will. We'll make sure she does." He looked down at the page then back at me. "How'd you learn to do that?"
"Tons of practice, I guess. I don't even know any more how many songs I've written. I decided about six months ago to make my CD and then I started taking it more seriously. Before that it was just a hobby."
He nodded and seemed about to speak, then looked past me. "Does that sweatshirt you're wearing have a hood?"
Confused, I nodded.
"Good. Put it up. I think you've been spotted."
I started to turn in my seat to see where he was looking but he caught my arm. "Are you nuts? That'll tell them for sure. Damn, I shouldn't have brought you here. Okay, just flip up the hood and put on your sunglasses and we'll stroll out of here."
I managed the first two, but the throng of teenage girls at the door made strolling difficult.
One moved forward, leaving her giggling companions in a tight group. "Misty?"
I looked at Tim, not sure if I should admit it or not. That must have given it away, though, because they all began squealing and the one who'd spoken said, "We love your video. You're so cool."
"Thanks," I mumbled, with no idea what to do next.
Tim took hold of my arm. "Ladies, I'm afraid Misty needs to leave. Big recording session. Let us through, please."
His voice, calm but commanding, caught their attention and the group split down the middle, leaving an aisle for us to pass through. We did, while I blinked at the flashes as the girls and other patrons snapped pictures of me and Tim.
*****
When Jason got home that night he was clearly upset, and since I'd spent the last hour on various gossip web sites reading people's comments on the photos of me and my 'boyfriend' I knew all too well why. "I'm sorry," I said before he could even put his stuff down.
He closed his eyes for a moment then came to the couch where I was sitting with my laptop. "My cell phone's full of text messages. People wanting me to know you're cheating on me. I'm dating an Internet celebrity. Except I'm not apparently. That guy is. Who is he, anyhow?"
I filled him in on my afternoon. Once Tim and I escaped my crowd of fans, we'd gone to Jo's office and Tim had come through for me, insisting that Jo let the song go out as 'we' had rewritten it. He'd warned me as we drove back that he'd say it that way, since Jo would be more likely to accept it if she thought he'd made most of the changes. Though I didn't like it I thought he was probably right, and I'd been touched by how he'd defended my changes as if they had been his. I still didn't love the song, but it was tolerable now, and I did like having Tim on my side.
"And so tomorrow I start rehearsals for it and for the new version of 'Out Loud', and I'll be working with Tim again on more songs next week. Probably not at a coffee shop, though. That was scary." The girls had let us leave without any issues, but if they hadn't...
Jason sighed. "I knew you wouldn't cheat on me."
He didn't sound like he knew any such thing. "Jason! Of course I wouldn't. You should know that."
"I do," he said, sounding more certain. "It's just, all those messages. They wore me down. So what happens now? Do they issue a statement that he's not your boyfriend or something?"
I decided I'd better not tell him that Jo had been thrilled with the publicity and suggested a public fight between Tim and Jason over me to keep it going. I was pretty sure she was kidding, and I didn't think either guy was the public fighting type even if she wasn't. "They posted a note on my Twitter account to say I'd been out for coffee with my lyricist. I guess that's the official statement."
"You have a Twitter account?"
His surprise didn't surprise me, since I'd never understood the point of Twitter. Tiny messages, millions of them, saying nothing at all? Why bother? "Well, Misty does."
He raised his eyebrows. "You know you're Misty, right?"
I rolled my eyes back in my head and made my best stunned face. "Really?" Putting my eyes back where they belonged before I got a headache, I said, "Of course. But I'm not running the account. I don't even have the password. They set it up for me and they're posting to it."
"Who's they?"
I had to laugh. The whole thing was so ridiculous. "Would you believe I don't even know? People in Jo's office. They post a few times a day about everything I'm doing, not pretending to be me but letting people see what I'm up to. I've already got over three hundred thousand followers."
He leaned back on the couch and looked at me. "Amy?"
"Yup?"
"This is messed up."
I moved closer to him. "Trust me, I know."
He wrapped his arm around me. "I've never dated a celebrity before."
His voice said he wished he'd kept that particular streak alive.
Chapter Five
I spent the next morning working out with Marcus, lifting weights and running on the treadmill while singing "Prom Night Promise" and "Out Loud" over and over to prepare for the afternoon's rehearsal, and when we finally finished I could have curled up in a sweaty heap in the corner and slept for days. Unfortunately, Jo's schedule wouldn't allow me even a little nap, so I dragged myself into the gym shower and eventually managed to lift my arms enough to wash my hair.
After the shower, a Marcus-approved chicken-breast-and-salad lunch, and a coffee so strong it could have carried its own cup around, I felt a little more awake and ready to face the afternoon and all the new people I'd be meeting. Walking into the rehearsal hall and having everyone burst into applause woke me up even more, and I grinned at them and said, "Hi, I'm Am— I mean Misty."
Jo laughed. "Nice cover. Not a big deal here, but in general, think before you introduce yourself, okay? And practice calling yourself Misty. Anyhow, guys, this is our star-to-be. Misty, this is Steven, your music
director."
A short bald man, his face and head glistening with sweat in the warm hall, came forward with a neutral smile and shook my hand. When he got close I realized he was younger than I'd thought, probably only in his twenties. The baldness made him look older.
Jo waved at the others in a 'game show hostess showing off the merchandise' gesture. "These are your backup dancers and your band. For the next few hours you'll be working on 'Prom Night Promise' and 'Out Loud'. Break for dinner at around six if you're not done by then. Okay?"
We all nodded, while I wondered what on earth we'd be doing with only two songs for five hours.
Within moments I knew. We'd be drilling the most infinitesimal details of the song and the performance. "Out Loud" would be opening my first show, and even how fast I walked onto the stage and where I ended up was choreographed. The backup dancers' movements and their interactions with me had been planned right down to when someone would grin at me and hold out her hand for a high-five, and we practiced our moves over and over using a bare-bones computerized version of the song. I'd had no idea shows were pre-planned to this level. Were all concerts like this or just ones under Jo's control?
An hour into the rehearsal, we all had at least some idea of our steps, and to my relief I was able to handle the fairly basic dance moves assigned to me, so Steven finally deemed us ready to practice what I'd assumed we'd be doing the entire time, the actual song. My band members, seriously pretty boys and one fierce-looking girl with long straight black hair tipped in neon green, all of whom looked bored, started playing. They didn't get more than a few notes in, though, before they were shut down by Steven. "Need more keyboards, Jez. Right idea, just more."
The girl fiddled with a few knobs and they started again but were again stopped. And again. And again. Balance not right, someone missed a note, not enough energy... Steven was relentless.
As they played the first few bars over and over, I recognized something I didn't like. I'd struggled endlessly with the beginning of that song, and had eventually decided it was right. But now I knew it hadn't been. I'd included a little run of fast notes to make the song sparkle, but hearing it repeatedly made it clear that the run simply confused the start of the song. The first bit was all right but it went on too long.
I contemplated bringing this up but couldn't imagine trying to change the song at this point. Still, it bothered me. I went back and forth in my head, and was about to play the star and insist we try it without the run when Steven said, "Okay, I like that one. Perfect. Let's take it from the top, and Misty, you're in too. Head off-stage and come in like we've practiced."
I did. And did and did and did. It took seven tries before we even got to the point where I started singing, but my frustration over being cut off just before I sang the first word faded into confusion when I finally got to sing a line and everyone froze and stared at me.
I trailed off. "What's wrong?"
Steven's grin lit up his face. "Not a damn thing. You can really sing."
I glanced around. My band didn't seem bored any more. The girl Jez was smiling at me and the guys looked impressed. Even the backup dancers seemed surprised. "Didn't you expect that?"
Steven shot a glance at Jez, who laughed and said, "I don't care. I know you're right."
My confusion must have shown, because Steven said, "Jez is Jo's daughter, by the way. And frankly, no, we didn't. Jo picks her talent largely on their image and star power, plus a bit of singing ability. No, I'm afraid we didn't expect you could sing like that without any computer support."
"Computer? You mean that autotune stuff?" I sang a note, making my voice wobble like Cher's in her "Believe" song.
"It can do that, but it also does some really subtle stuff. There are tons of singers using it, people you'd never guess."
This piqued my interest. "Like who?"
He laughed. "If you're good I'll tell you later. But geez, it's going to be fun doing this without having to rely on autotune to fix you up for recordings and shows. Okay, guys, let's go from the top."
We did, and after a few more tries I simply couldn't stand it any more. "Steven? Can I talk to you for a second?" I jerked my head toward the backstage area where I'd been waiting before each take of the song.
Looking confused, he said, "Sure. Take five, everyone."
Once we were alone, I explained what I'd recognized about the start of the song.
He blinked. "You want to change it now? We're recording it tomorrow."
I winced. "I know. I'm sorry. But I just now realized it's not right. Please. Can we try it?"
He studied me for a moment, then surprised me by saying, "You're going to be fun to work with. You can sing and you write your own stuff and you notice the little details. I predict we'll have lots of fights and make some great songs together."
I grinned. "I'll win all the fights. I won this one, didn't I?"
He laughed and admitted that I had. "But don't get used to it."
We went back to the group and explained what I wanted changed. Jez and I fiddled with it at her keyboard, taking turns playing and assessing, and after a few tries I said, "Yeah, that's what I want."
She played it several more times to make sure she had it down, then said to Steven, "Ready to rock, baby."
While she'd also called me 'baby' while we worked together, the way she said it to Steven was entirely different, and the way his eyes softened when he smiled at her told me my tall thin keyboardist and short round music director were in love. I wouldn't have thought he'd be anywhere close to wild enough for her.
"All right, let's take it from the top."
Before we could, Jo walked into the hall with a group of men in suits. "Don't mind us," she called cheerily. "Just a few radio executives wanting to hear Misty before the song's released. Carry on."
We hadn't made it past the first verse yet, and we'd just changed the intro to boot. How were we going to impress these dubious-looking guys?
Steven turned away from them and winked at me, then whispered, "All the way through. Knock 'em dead."
"I'm ready," I said. "Off-stage again?"
"Sure. Let's do it right."
I listened to the intro, loving the new version, then stalked out on stage as I'd already done so many times. The audience, though, made all the difference. I let my eyes roam over them, catching the eyes of each as I did, and singing to people instead of a throng of empty seats filled me with energy I hadn't felt yet today.
It seemed to affect the others, too. While I doubted Steven would have stopped us with the execs watching, he didn't need to: we were flawless. Every move, every note, every supposedly spontaneous interaction, they all happened right on cue.
We thundered to the end of the song together, and the hall went silent as the last echoes died away.
Jo, her eyes bright with happiness and pride, turned to the execs. "So?"
They stared at her, then one said, "Holy shit, Jo," and the others nodded.
I stood panting and grinning on the stage, so wired I could probably have powered the entire sound system.
Steven came over and slapped me on the back, then whispered, "He's right. Holy shit."
Chapter Six
"Greetings, everyone, and happy Monday morning! I'm certainly happy, since I have an exclusive interview with the lovely and talented Misty Will. So, Misty, tell me about yourself."
I'd never been so nervous, and the only thing keeping me together was realizing how nervous Evelyn was too. Launching my video had been the biggest thing that ever happened to her and her music blog, and being allowed to be my first interviewer could give her the stellar career she'd always wanted.
Jo hadn't granted her my first interview to help her, of course. "You'll be repaying her for getting your career started and that'll make you look good. Plus, you know her already so you'll be more comfortable."
Knowing Evelyn was live-broadcasting the interview to who knew how many people and then posting it to be seen by tons
more, I could hardly have been less comfortable. I cleared my throat and glanced down to make sure the microphone was still attached to my neon green top. "Well, I'm twenty-five and I live in Toronto, and until recently I was a waitress."
Evelyn cleared her throat too. "Yes, things have changed recently, haven't they? But before we get to that, let's talk about your music. Have you always written songs?"
I nodded, and tried to cross my legs only to find them too sore to move. Bloody Marcus. My schedule didn't allow a session today so he'd worked me twice as hard yesterday, and in combination with the hours of singing and dancing over the weekend I didn't have a single uncomplaining muscle group left. I crossed my ankles instead, making sure the neon green miniskirt I wore didn't ride up, then smoothed back a strand of my matching wig and said, "Since early high school, yes. They were mostly just a hobby, but then last year my cousin Christine asked me to write a song for her wedding."
Evelyn, who'd been at that wedding, said, "And how did that go?"
I smiled, and she smiled back, and my nervousness left me. This was ridiculous and we both knew it so there was no need to be worried. "Christine loved it. She kept saying it had made the wedding perfect. But it was actually what one of her friends said that made me want to focus more on my music." A lump rose in my throat. Every time I thought of it, and I'd thought of it a lot while working on the CD, I had the same reaction. "She said the song changed her life."
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. "Impressive. How?"
The friend had taken me aside at the reception, nearly in tears, and said that she and her husband had been on the brink of ending their marriage but after hearing my song about love that could last forever they'd looked at each other and decided right then and there to keep trying.
I'd been happy enough about that, but when she contacted me again a few months later to say she and her husband had renewed their vows and were more in love than ever I'd gone around glowing for a few days then decided I wanted to touch even more lives. Making the CD, sharing my music, seemed like a good way to start, especially once I realized that finishing the CD might help me start the center.
Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9) Page 4
