by Lisa Suzanne
“Speaking of the end,” Dax says, “the final question is this: why should we pick you over Gage and Tyler?”
Whoa.
That was a question I wasn’t expecting.
My mouth drops open as I attempt to form words, but I can’t actually think of any that tell them why I’m the right choice over Tyler, who already has a fanbase, or Gage, who is one of the most talented musicians I’ve ever watched.
A little squeak comes out.
“Um,” I say, stalling for time.
I draw in a breath, and then I go for the truth. The only thing I have to lose is this competition. I’ve already lost Gage, and I’m starting to think he was more important than all this anyway.
I clear my throat. “I don’t know if you should. Tyler is an amazing bassist, but he already has success with another band. Gage, though...he’s phenomenal. I’ve never seen someone play with their heart the way he does. I’ve never seen someone who’s so technically skilled but who also has the stage presence he does. It’s incredible. I want to tell you to choose me because I’m the most talented, but I don’t know if that’s true. Choose me because I can sing. I can contribute a whole new sound and a whole new perspective. But it depends what you’re looking for. You found success as a group of five men, and if that’s what you want going forward, what I say here doesn’t matter. You’ve kept me around to the top three, though, so that tells me you see something in me. So choose me over them because of whatever quality it is that brought me here.”
Dax nods and presses his lips together. “Thanks, Lexi. You can head out.”
“Thank you for your time. Thank you for this opportunity. Good luck making your decision.”
They all smile and wave as I walk out the door, and I can only hope my honest answers were what they were looking for.
CHAPTER 43: DAX
“She said Gage, and Gage said her,” I say, shaking my head. “Who does that?”
“Two people in love with each other,” Adam says quietly.
“Is it true they were banging?” Rascal asks.
I laugh. “Yeah. They hooked up over the weekend, and now she’s in a fake relationship with Tyler to try to distract Gage from the competition.”
“Doesn’t seem to be working,” Brody mutters.
“So between the two of them, what are you thinking?” I ask.
Adam scratches the back of his head. “I think we need to talk to Tyler before I can make any decisions.”
“You think Tyler has a shot to win this?” I ask.
I look around at the men I know so damn well, and I can read each of them before anyone says a word. It doesn’t really matter what Tyler says during this interview. It won’t be him.
He skated through to the top three because he’s talented. It just doesn’t make sense that he’s here, though. And I’m planning to use this interview to find out his real intentions.
I tap Camille’s contact in my phone. She answers nearly immediately.
“Send him in,” I say, and a moment later, Tyler walks through the door.
“Take a seat,” I say, nodding to the empty chair across from us. “We’re going to ask you five questions, and it’ll be the same five questions we asked Gage and Lexi.”
He nods.
We go in the same order as the other two. “What will you bring to MFB both personally and professionally?”
“Professionally you’ll get the top bassist that remains. I have the most stage experience, and I’ve already learned how to handle the aspects of this career that will come as surprises to the other two. Personally, you’ll get someone who knows how to have a good time.”
I nod to Rascal. “Let’s say you’re the winner at the end of this whole thing,” he begins. “You get home and find a winning lottery ticket worth ten million dollars that you bought before you left. What do you do?”
He stares at Rascal for a minute as he formulates his answer, and I can immediately sniff out that he’s about to lie. “Donate it.”
I want to ask what he’d donate it to, what his charity of choice is, but part of what we’re doing here is allowing them to answer with as much or as little detail as they prefer. We agreed to no follow up questions for that reason.
Brody is next with his absolutely ridiculous question. “How many sandwiches have you eaten off the floor?”
He’s asking it for lots of reasons. He wants to see how each contestant will fit in with our own personalities. He wants to know whether the answer is in the double digits since in reality that’s pretty gross. And he wants to see how truthful they are.
Tyler shrugs. “As many as have fallen there.”
I’m not sure how to interpret his answer, but he seems like he doesn’t really care about this interview.
“What’s your biggest weakness?” Adam asks next.
“I’m a perfectionist through and through. It can get me into trouble, especially at practice.”
That was actually often Kane’s role—to keep us on track and to listen to the sound to make sure we were on point, even when we were practicing.
But I don’t see him filling Kane’s shoes.
I ask the last question. “Why should we pick you over Lexi and Gage?”
He looks at each of us in turn before he answers honestly.
And it’s an answer I never expected...even though maybe I should have.
“You shouldn’t.” He blows out a breath and looks beyond the four of us out the windows behind us. “It’s probably this stage of the game when I should confess something. I really like Lexi. She’s a good girl. She’s got a great sound and a lot of talent, and I think she’s a good fit for you guys. Gage has been my biggest competition all along, and I’d love to see her win over him.”
He takes a deep breath and avoids looking at any of us, his eyes instead cast down on his hands that drum on the tabletop. “But you shouldn’t pick me. I have a safety net ready to catch me, and I haven’t been honest about why I’m here. I wanted to give my band some attention. I thought you’d see through me and kick me off, but when the competition got going, well, I’m a competitive guy. I wanted to win. It’s not fair to Lexi and Gage, though. It’s not fair to the other seven guys you’ve already sent home, and I’m sorry. I’m not a bad dude, I swear. My little band respects the level you’re at, and we jumped at the chance for some extra exposure.”
I heave in a deep breath, something I’ve learned over time is an anger management skill.
I liked Tyler, but I honestly never saw him fitting in with us forever. I can see it with Gage. I can see it with Lexi.
But there was something off about him, and this is just one more situation where I’m thankful I always trust my gut.
I glance at Brody, and he opens his mouth to fight back. He’s the easiest to ignite out of the four of us.
Before he can say anything, though, I jump in. “You know how many bands would jump at the chance to be at the level where you’ve gotten Capital Kingsmen?” I shake my head in disgust. “We liked you, but I have to be honest with you. We never saw it working long term. When the four of us named our top two, your name didn’t come up. You’re a talented guy, but what you’ve done to this competition and to the four of us is inexcusable.”
“Get the fuck out,” Brody says.
I shake my head. “We need to do the usual send-off.”
“Can I talk to Lexi first?” Tyler asks.
I shoot him a look that says you’re real fucking lucky we’re not kicking your ass on the way out...which, in other words, is a no.
I call Camille. “We’re done with Tyler, and we’re done deliberating,” I say, all business when she answers. “We need Lexi and Gage in the family room for the send-off.”
“I’ll call them in,” she says.
A few minutes later, she comes into the office. “They’re waiting.”
“Escort Tyler out to his place,” I say.
She does, and the four of us stand.
In a few
minutes, the competition will be cut to two remaining contestants. The two strongest by far. What Tyler did is shitty, but it wouldn’t have changed anything. At least we can be thankful we discovered his real intentions now rather than two days from now...even though I’m still convinced he would’ve gone home tonight either way.
And then we’ll have to make the most difficult decision of this entire journey.
CHAPTER 44: LEXI
Tyler’s eyes are wide when I step into place next to him. I really expected more of a deliberation, but honestly I have no idea how long Tyler’s interview has been over and how long the guys were in there talking through who the final two are going to be.
“It’s me,” Tyler whispers.
I turn to look at him. “What?” I whisper back.
“Quiet in line, please,” Miles snaps at us from across the room. I turn my attention straight ahead again as we wait for the MFB boys.
“It’s me,” he repeats. “And I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Just as I turn to look at him again, to try to decode his meaning, the band members walk into the room.
Tyler exhales heavily, and I’m filled with confusion as to what, exactly, is going on.
Dax starts talking, and my heart thumps loudly. “We all thought choosing the final two would be the second most difficult decision with, of course, choosing the final winner being the first. But we were wrong. One contestant proved his true colors today, and we’re not sorry to see him go.”
Him.
It’s not me.
That means I’m in the final two.
Holy cannoli...I’m in the final two.
I have a fifty-fifty shot at joining My Favorite Band as the new bassist.
And that means tonight, either Gage or Tyler is heading out the door...and Tyler seems pretty convinced it’ll be him.
I’d rather be all alone in this house with Tyler than Gage, to be honest.
What the heck did he say in there to them?
“Tyler, you lost this battle. You won’t be MFB’s replacement bassist. You can go.”
You can go. That’s the first time Dax has said that to any contestant in that tone.
He didn’t give Tyler a minute to say goodbye to us, but Tyler turns toward me and pulls me into a quick hug anyway. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and I can’t figure out why he keeps apologizing to me.
Miles grabs his arm and directs him out of the room, and I look over at Gage with my brows dipped down. He’s facing forward toward the MFB guys, and I can’t read his expression. How would he know what’s going on anyway? He must feel in the dark as much as I do, but he seems to have smoothed his emotions to unreadable.
“Gage and Lexi, congratulations,” Dax says. “You’re our final two, and we couldn’t be more excited that one of you will be joining MFB. You’re not just the top two when it comes to your skill on bass. You’ve proven your versatility, and you’ve also proven that you’ll fit in with us as individual team members who will share a forever sort of bond with us. It’s not going to be an easy decision, but we’re ready and excited to make it.”
Ben brings over a tray of shot glasses, and Dax indicates that we should each grab one.
Once we all have a glass, Dax says, “Tonight is for celebrating. Tomorrow is for recovering. And then we’ll host the final challenge before we decide on the winner. Good luck to both of you.”
He raises his glass, and we all meet in the middle before we each suck down the shot.
It’s whiskey.
Oh God, it’s straight whiskey.
I nearly choke on the burn, and it just makes me wonder whether I’ll ever really fit in with them.
Maybe they don’t party like they used to. They’re all settling down at this point, with marriage and babies on the horizon.
But that thought goes out the window when another shot is shoved into my hand.
Yep...they can still party.
And when I wake up the next morning with a headache and an upset stomach, I realize why they said today would be a day for recovery.
I’m going to need it.
I roll over and attempt to go back to sleep, but Tyler’s whispered apology from last night comes back.
What did he have to be sorry for?
The truth still eludes me...until I flip over again and something under my pillow crinkles.
I reach for the crinkling sound and find a sheet of paper folded in half.
Lexi is written in simple, neat print on the front.
I open it up and scan to the bottom. It’s a note from Tyler.
Lexi,
I’m going to make a confession during my interview. I wanted to tell you all along, but I couldn’t. Not with the cameras always watching.
I know this is going to make me look like the biggest asshole of all time, but I’m hoping that by confessing to you, you’ll be able to see past the anger and see that I ended up doing the right thing.
I was never here for the right reasons.
It would be an incredible opportunity to play for MFB, but it’s one you deserve way more than I do. I’m happy with CK. I don’t want to leave them. Tommy (he’s our singer) thought this would be a great idea, and it had to be me since I was the bassist. I never thought it was smart, but he thought we’d get more exposure if one of us was on TV.
So that’s why I’m here.
But YOU are why I’m going home.
Go win this thing, Lex. Make me proud. You deserve it, and you deserve a fair shot without someone standing in the way who could fuck up your chances.
If you can see past your anger, and if you can get past what happened with Hoffman, maybe someday we could turn that fake thing into something real.
Call me.
Tyler
His phone number is scrawled across the bottom of the page.
I read it again to make sure I’m actually reading and understanding the words on the page in front of me correctly because surely they can’t be true.
Can they?
Or am I so hungover that I’m actually seeing things?
Is he really telling me that this whole time, he was only here to get exposure for Capital Kingsmen?
I guess it makes more sense why he was so willing to help me now. He didn’t care who won in the end, but he didn’t really want to see Gage win for some reason. He liked me over him. He wanted to help me—maybe as a way to make up for the bad thing he was doing. Maybe as a way to not look like such an epic jerk when the show actually airs.
Because how is that good publicity for a band?
I think back to the tip I got in some low-level marketing class I took in college and realize the singer of his band must’ve learned the same tip. It’s marketing one-oh-one.
There’s no such thing as bad publicity.
I think I need to be just a little less hungover to actually process this information, but it doesn’t change things. I won’t be using the number—at least not to call him and ask him out on a date or anything like that.
Because I’ve got one big problem. I’m in love with Gage, and I’m just not ready to move forward from that. I’m not ready to jump into something else.
Not yet.
CHAPTER 45: GAGE
We’ve managed to avoid one another all day. I was up early, so I did my usual routine, which includes a few laps in the pool followed by some eggs. I went up to take a shower, and that must’ve been when she went down to get her own breakfast. The same thing happened at lunch.
I’m glad the competition has thinned to the final two, but at least when Decker was here, I had someone to talk to. Now it’s just Kat and me, and our interviews have been all business since I rejected her advances.
So I spend the day in my bedroom listening to MFB music, memorizing the catalog, learning the words. I listen for the places where I might be able to interject back-up vocals, and I just plain study the music.
There’s literally nothing else to do, and it sort of feels like I’m prep
aring for a final exam.
Except I have no idea what’s going to be on the test.
I have no clue what this final competition might entail.
I’m actually sort of grateful for the day off. I didn’t really need much recuperation time even though Dax said that was what today was for.
Despite the deafening silence in the house, it’s giving me a day of preparation.
When I need a break from concentrating on the music, I spend time thinking about all the contestants who have already gone home. Some just couldn’t cut it talent-wise, and others didn’t have the right personalities.
I know what they see in Lexi. She’s a huge threat. She can play the hell out of her bass guitar, she can sing the hell out of a song, she’s gorgeous as fuck, and she’s a woman—something I will never be.
But I’m a threat, too. I’ve got the skill. I’ve got the talent. I know my way around a stage, and I’ve got the right charisma. I fit in with these guys. Our personalities mesh.
So it really comes down to what they’re looking for. Do they want someone who will fit right in so they can pick up where they left off without missing a beat? Or do they want someone fresh and new to really make a turn in what they produce?
Time will tell, and time is running short.
When dinner time rolls around, I head downstairs. She’s in the food room putting a salad together, and I pull out some vegetables in an attempt to be helpful. She gives me a cursory smile, and I can’t believe how awkward things are between us after everything we once shared.
It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Doing okay?” I ask her carefully.
She lifts a shoulder. “Ready for whatever the final comp is going to be, but I have to admit I could’ve done without all the whiskey last night.”
I chuckle. “Done with this?” I ask, holding up the bag of salad she left on the counter.
She nods, and I grab a plate and pour out the remaining contents of the bag.
We make our salads in that same awkwardness.
I have about a million things I want to ask her. Is she okay now that Tyler’s gone? Are they going to get together after filming is over? Does she think she’s going to win over me?
