by D. A. Graham
“It’s just part of the whole reality show thing,” he replies. “We have to look like celebrities.”
Maybe he’s right, but I don’t like it very much. Ryan doesn’t seem bothered, though, so I try to push my discomfort aside.
Next, Blair opens a door on the other side of the dressing room and reveals what looks like a waiting room at a doctor’s office. Except rather than being full of patients, it’s full of teenage musicians. The other seven duos. Fourteen pairs of eyes stare at me and Ryan as we sit down. I flush, my nervousness returning. All of them look like professional musicians. The ones who catch my eye are two punk girls with spiky black hair, a boy in a cowboy hat who flashes me a creepy smile, and a girl whose small mouth makes her look like she’s constantly displeased.
Blair claps her hands together loudly, interrupting the stare down.
“Hello, contestants!” she says. “Welcome to the first episode of The Right Note! If you haven’t already met me, I’m Blair Casanova, one of the production assistants. And I am so excited to be here with you all because this season’s theme of ‘teamwork’ is really special! We’re going to shine the spotlight on how you duos work together, compete with each other, and make friends—or enemies—with each other.
“For the first two weeks of the show, you’re all going to compete on teams chosen and coached by the judges. In a moment, each duo will head to the stage to perform in front of the judges, and then they will decide what team to put you on. Isn’t that exciting?”
Some of the contestants murmur in agreement.
Blair continues, “Every three days there will be an elimination round where all the teams perform. At the end of the round, the judges will choose which team did the worst and send home one of that team’s members. So you’ll want to work together with your teammates to put on a good show. When there are only ten of you remaining, we’ll change things up a bit and have you all perform solo in front of the judges until we get to the final four contestants. Those final four will perform one last time, and from there the judges will choose the winner.”
After a brief pause she continues, “I hope you’re all ready to show the judges what you’ve got! But before I send anyone out there, we’re going to film some quick introductions to each of the duos so our viewers can get to know you all. How does that sound?”
The boy with the cowboy hat says in a Southern accent, “Sounds good to me!”
“Fantastic!” Blair exclaims. “Do you and Lark want to go first, Asher?”
“Yeah, we do.” The boy in the cowboy hat looks eagerly at the girl with the small mouth. She shrugs.
One by one, the duos vanish through the door. Ryan and I go last because we arrived late. When it’s our turn, Blair takes us to a small orange room and sits us down on a pair of stools. Behind us is the rainbow logo of The Right Note. She goes behind one of the cameras. “Hello, my dears. Are you comfortable? Feeling excited? Ready to go?” Ryan and I make eye contact, clearly uncomfortable about being on camera for the first time. Blair continues without our response, “Great. I need you two to look at this camera when you answer your questions. Rolling in five.”
I look up at Blair’s hand, which holds up five fingers. Then four. Three. Two. One. A red light pops up on the side of the camera. We’re recording.
The questions are all about what it’s like being a duo together. How did we meet? What kind of music do we make? What are our inspirations? I tell the cameras about how Ryan and I became friends almost instantly. We were the only kids in our guitar class who could successfully play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” by the end of the first lesson. Ryan talks about wanting to start a band with me because he thought I was really cool, even though everyone else thought I was a shy, quiet kid. Then I talk about our first live performance at the middle school talent show. And about how we watch every season of The Right Note together.
Then, Blair asks each of us what we admire most about each other.
“I love how you break the rules,” I say to Ryan. “You make music out of everything. It’s like your superpower.”
“And I love how you keep it real,” Ryan says to me. “You remind me not to go too crazy.”
“How sweet,” Blair coos as the cameras shut off. “Oh, that was so wonderful. I hope you’re ready to go in front of the judges and show them what you’ve got. They’re going to love you.”
We follow her down the hall to the backstage area. Leaning against the wall are my guitar and Ryan’s sampler. I rush over and grab the guitar. Its familiar curves feel so much like home that I instantly relax.
Then Tix’s voice booms from the other side of the curtain, announcing our arrival: “Our final duo, Eve Hardt and Ryan Okri!” He sounds cheerful and proud—the opposite of when Ryan and I first met him.
We pick up our instruments and race onto the stage and into the spotlights.
My first glimpse is of the judges. They are sitting at their table, staring right at me. On the right is Xavier Sandalwood, one of the most famous songwriters in pop music. Next to him is Peter Vasquez, the harshest judge on reality TV. Then, Marina Murphy, an opera-singer-turned-pop-star from Ireland whose concerts bring in thousands of screaming fans. Finally, at the end is Cassandra Holmes, my idol and the winner of the first season of The Right Note. My heart nearly stops. These judges are the best of the best, the biggest names in music. The cameras, spotlights, and judges’ eyes are all on us.
I gulp. But Ryan doesn’t seem fazed by any of this. He sets up at his sampler and gestures for me to plug in my guitar. So I do. And before I know it we’re jamming “The Quiet Night” again. Ryan goes all out with the layers of sound, bringing me out of my funk and into the music. I sing my heart out. I realize with the spotlights shining brightly into my eyes, I can’t see anyone except the judges. No audience to stare me down. I even risk doing a little shimmy.
But then Ryan’s voice cracks during his part. He closes his mouth and his face turns as red as his jacket. Thinking quickly, I fill the void with some freestyle guitar.
When we finish, the judges clap. Tix comes out from the darkness, also applauding us. “Bravo, bravo!” he cries. He claps Ryan on the back and shakes my shoulder. “What a performance from our last duo of the day! Let’s see what the judges thought.”
“I thought it was splendid. Just great. You wrote that yourselves?” Xavier asks.
Marina nods. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.”
“I agree. Some iffy vocals from that one, but nothing we can’t work with,” says Peter, pointing his pen at Ryan.
“The way you two perform is . . . very interesting,” says Cassandra.
I cross my fingers behind my back that Cassandra picks us. She knows what it’s like to come from the bottom and rise to the top.
The judges whisper to each other for a few seconds.
Then, Cassandra looks at me. “I will take Eve.”
My heart soars and I break into a huge grin.
“And I want Ryan.” Peter points at him with the pen again.
My face falls. “Wait, what? You’re putting us on two different teams?”
“That’s right.”
“We’re a duo,” Ryan says. “You can’t split us up.”
“You aren’t the only duo we’ve split up,” says Xavier.
“As the judges, we get to pick the teams,” Peter says.
Cassandra leans back in her chair. “You two are a remarkable pair. But we want to push each of you to be the best musicians you can be. We believe that can only happen if you compete against each other.” She points at Ryan. “He needs some work on his voice. That’s why he’s going on Peter’s team. And you, Eve, need to embrace the passion of the music. That’s why I want you.”
“But we came here together. We want to go on to record an album together,” I protest.
“I can’t compete against Eve,” Ryan says.
Peter glowers at us. “If you can’t compete against her, then you’re welcome to drop out
of the competition. There are plenty of other duos out there who would love to fill your spot.”
Please, Ryan, hold your tongue, I mentally tell him. Thankfully, he seems to get the message. He looks at the floor, clearly not excited to work with Peter.
Tix shows us off the stage and back down the hall. Once the cameras are off him, Tix goes back to being his grouchy self. “Kids these days,” he mutters.
***
That evening, Ryan and I decide to head down to the beach to talk. But neither of us knows what to say, so we walk along the shore in silence. The ocean waves lap at our feet, reflecting the pink sky. The wind coming off the water is cold, and I wish I’d brought my sweatshirt.
Finally I turn to Ryan and blurt out the question that’s burning in my mind. “Should we drop out of the competition?”
“What? No way!” he exclaims. “Look how far we’ve come. We already made it this far—we just have to beat those other seven groups. We can totally do this, Eve.”
There’s a bit of nervousness in his voice, but his enthusiasm makes me feel better.
“I just wish I could compete alongside you,” I say.
“Me too. But remember that as long as one of us wins, we both get the record deal.”
We stare out at the water for a moment, and then Ryan sticks out his hand toward me.
“Promise you won’t go easy on me,” he says.
I grin. Maybe everything will work out. “I promise.”
We shake hands and then head back to the studio to get a good night’s sleep.
Chapter
4
The next day is the first day of practice with my new team. When I arrive in the rehearsal room, a cameraman is setting up his equipment, preparing to film my every move. My teammates file in shortly after me. Two of them are the punk duo I saw yesterday: Delia and Casey. From the instant they arrive, they squabble with each other to get the camera’s attention. Our other teammate is Lark, the partner of Asher the cowboy. She sits down and folds her hands in her lap patiently.
Finally, Cassandra drifts into the room. “Good morning, team,” she says. Then she explains the plan for the day. Each of us will sing for her to show our strengths and weaknesses. Then she will know how to coach us, to bring each of us to our full potential. She looks at me and says I will be going first.
Cassandra sits in front of me and leans in close to study my mouth as I sing. At the same time, the cameraman shoves the camera way too close to my face. I want to push it away, but instead I clear my throat and sing a scale.
“Give me more power this time,” Cassandra says. “Blow me away with your voice. I want to fall backward.”
I try again, but she interrupts me before I’ve done half the scale.
“No, my dear. Not strong enough! Where is your passion? Where is your heart? Put it all in your voice!”
I try again and again. But each time Cassandra shakes her head, crosses her arms, and sighs. A huge wave of disappointment washes over me. My idol chose me, and I’m letting her down. But I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I don’t know how to be more passionate. I thought I loved making music, but Cassandra seems to think something’s holding me back. I wish Ryan were here to encourage me.
The punk duo, Casey and Delia, take turns after me. They sound like they’re yelling instead of singing. But Cassandra doesn’t ask where their passion is. She nods at them.
Now it’s Lark’s turn. Her voice rings out like notes from a piano, from the deepest deep to the highest high. I’m instantly entranced. This girl knows her stuff. It’s beautiful and clear—maybe even better than Cassandra’s voice. Even the punks’ mouths hang open.
“That was gorgeous,” Cassandra says when Lark finishes. “Where did you learn to sing?”
“I grew up singing in choir,” Lark replies. “So did Asher. We’ve been partners for years.”
“How do you feel about being on a different team than him?”
“It feels . . .” Lark trails off. The camera leans in close to her. Then she says, “Freeing. I feel free to be myself.”
She and I make eye contact. I frown, confused as to how she could feel that way. Good partners should bring out the best in each other, I think to myself.
***
The next day, Cassandra leads us through writing our own rock song together to perform in the first elimination round. If we win, we get a special advantage for the next round. But if we lose, then one of us is going home. As we work, the punk duo argues over whether we should use the word “heart” or “start” to rhyme with “chart.”
Lark moves next to me and together we write our own verses. She looks over my writing and hums to herself. I raise my eyebrows at her, giving her a questioning look. “You’re a good singer,” she says. “But you need to step out of your comfort zone. That’s what Cassandra means by passion.”
“Thanks,” I murmur. “I didn’t really understand her. I was getting a bit frustrated.”
“Yeah, this competition is stressful.” She grins at me, looking as beautiful as her voice.
After a while, the punks manage to scrape something together. Their lyrics are actually pretty good. We compare notebooks and choose the best lines that each of us wrote to create a final draft of a song. Then we show it to Cassandra.
She looks over what we have. “Team, I think we are ready for the first challenge. How do you feel about singing together as a band, in front of a live audience?”
The cameras pan over the punks’ excited faces, Lark’s small smile, and my nervous shivering. Then the crew wraps filming. Tomorrow is the first elimination round.
Chapter
5
Tonight, someone is going home. The spotlights dazzle over the stage and the live audience roars as the teams march out from behind the curtain. I smile and wave, but my eyes are on Ryan. I haven’t seen him since the beach two days ago. He lifts his hand half-heartedly to the crowd. Dark bags sit under his eyes. Even in the vibrant clothing the producers gave him, he seems deflated. I wonder what horrors he had to endure during his rehearsals.
Then Tix announces that my team is going first. The other teams file onto a small platform next to the stage containing a row of chairs so they can watch and cheer us on—or root for us to lose. I gulp as I tune my guitar. I just hope we impress the judges.
Cassandra gives us a signal, and then the spotlights swirl onto me, Lark, Casey, and Delia.
For a moment, everything is silent but the hum of the lights and the sound of my breath. I strum the opening notes, sending out a wave of energy over the audience. I smile, letting the music vibrate through me.
Lark sings first, her voice resonating with my guitar. At the judge’s table, Peter, Marina, and Xavier look pleased. Cassandra remains motionless and unreadable.
Then Casey and Delia scream into the mics for the chorus. The mics amplify their voices, screeching in my ear. Startled, I mess up on the guitar and lose track of the beat. I try to recover it but play the wrong chords. It clashes with the punks’ voices.
I freeze up, holding a silent guitar.
When I perform with Ryan, something like this is an opportunity to improvise on his sampler.
But Casey and Delia aren’t Ryan. They turn and glare at me, two identical pairs of raccoon-like eyes.
A soft voice comes out from behind all of us. Lark holds her microphone up to her mouth and finishes singing the punks’ verse for them. Suddenly my mistake seems like an intentional pause in the song. I remember what I’m supposed to do. I start playing again, nodding at Lark in thanks.
I sing the final verse. My heart pounds in my ears so I don’t hear myself at all. I stare at Cassandra, whose stony face reveals nothing about how I’m doing. I finish singing and the audience erupts into cheers. The judges clap. We walk to the platform where the others are sitting, and the next team comes up to perform.
As I make my way to Ryan, Asher steps out in front of me. “Mighty fine singing voice you have there,” he says, g
rinning a creepy grin and tipping his hat. “I nearly mistook you for a real competitor!”
“Go away, Asher,” Lark groans, pushing him aside. “She’s not interested in goons like you.”
“Aw, don’t be like that, little Lark.”
She rolls her eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m both older and taller than you.”
I leave them to argue with each other and continue toward Ryan. He gives me a big hug. “Great job!” he says, but I get the sense that he’s forcing himself to sound proud. He and I both know I can do much better than this.
Ryan’s team goes last. He gives me a wink from the stage. Next to him, Asher does too. I shake my head at Asher, but Ryan sees it and thinks it’s for him. He frowns and turns back around before I can do or say anything.
During his performance, all signs of Ryan’s exhaustion vanish. The bass throbs and the synthesizers cheer as loud as the crowds. Ryan absorbs all of it into his body and lets it back out. He grooves to the music and even does a split on the stage, surprising everyone including me. The audience cheers. Even Cassandra breaks into a grin. Peter nods his approval.
I squeeze my hands together as I realize, Ryan doesn’t need me to win over a crowd.
Suddenly, Cassandra’s choice to split us up makes sense. She saw how much I shine with Ryan and wants to see me shine just as bright on my own. And Ryan needs to take his own path too.
I look back at the bickering Lark and Asher, the unhappy Casey and Delia, and the rest of the duos among us. Is this what happens to all duos? I worry. They argue, then part ways, and then become two completely different musicians, never to reunite? Because they don’t need each other anymore?
At the end of the round, all the teams line up on the stage while the judges discuss the performances. As I expect, they criticize me for freezing up but praise Lark for thinking fast. I blush, embarrassed at my performance. Ryan gets praised for his awesome dancing and for having fun on the stage.
In the end, the judges choose Ryan’s team as the winners of the challenge. Asher claps Ryan hard on the back, making him wince.
