Quest For A Popstar

by Katie Hamstead

  Clarissa grabs his arm, pulling him around to face her. “Are you drunk?”

  “No. Just a little tipsy.” He looks at me and licks his lips. “Seriously, you’re hot right now.”

  “Get out, Isaiah.”

  He scowls at Clarissa. “Lucas won’t let me in.”

  She groans. “You can’t stay here.”

  “Why not?” He looks at me again, his eyes hungry.

  “Stop it. You’re freaking her out.”

  “Nah.” He dismisses his sister with a wave of his hand. “Hailey, we’re friends, right? Care to share the bed?”

  I pull my knees under my chin, my skin crawling. He might be hot, but drunk guys always gave me the creeps. They were always too unpredictable, and Isaiah, with that crazed fire in his eyes, is no exception.

  Clarissa slaps his chest. “I hate it when you drink. Come on, you can’t stay here.”

  “Where are we going?” he asks as she drags him toward the door.

  “I’ll convince Lucas to let you back in.”

  “How?”

  She stops and glares at him.

  “Ah.” He motions for her to open the door.

  They leave and I shuffle under my blankets again. That creeped me out, and the swirling in my stomach keeps me from falling back to sleep.

  When Clarissa returns, she sits on the bed beside me. “I got rid of him.”

  I peer at her from under my blankets. “Lucas let him in?”

  She nods. “Isaiah thinks you’re really hot.”

  I groan, rolling my eyes. “He’s drunk.”

  “Yeah, but he’s an honest drunk.”

  My heart skips a beat. Guys that look like him never think I’m attractive. “I’m in a relationship.”

  “Yeah, I reminded him of that.” Her head lolls back as she stares up at the ceiling. “He should leave you alone, generally, but he’ll hit on you when the moment strikes him. Just so you know.”

  Just what I need. “Thanks.”

  She sighs. “I’m going back to bed. Night, Hailey.”

  ***

  Jeff rubs his eyes as he stands in front of me. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

  “No.” I stare at my feet.

  “Here, Hailey. Right here.” He grabs my chin and lifts my face. The lights of the rehearsal room glare off the mirror behind him, making me squint. Jeff purses his lips.

  Giggles come from behind me.

  “Stop it,” Isaiah whispers.

  Jeff’s hand drops. “Don’t look down again.”

  I fix my gaze on his face.

  “Now, focus.” He points at my nose. “I’m not asking you to do hard moves. It’s a ballad, not a rock song or anything that requires performance skills.”

  “I know,” I mutter.

  “Then why do you keep screwing it up?” He steps back, rubbing his eyes. “I’m done with you for now. Go see the hairdresser.” He glances at the camera. “Edit that out.”

  I hurry out of the practice room. Hot tears blur my vision as I seriously consider going home. I don’t need this. It seems like too much to ask for such an uncertain outcome. Then again, they did say they don’t like me. Maybe Jeff wants to make me quit so they don’t have to deal with me any longer.

  “Hailey! Hailey, wait.” Clarissa hurries up behind me, dragging Lucas behind her. “Hailey.”

  I sigh. “I’m going to the hairdresser.”

  “Hailey.” She grabs my elbow. “Jeff was really harsh.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I stare at my feet.

  “Yeah, it does,” Lucas says.

  I glare at him.

  He looks away. “It’s an act. Just do what they want to get your foot in the door.”

  “Maybe it’s too much to ask.”

  “Hailey.” Clarissa clutches my arm. “Please don’t quit. Lucas will help you out. He’s really good and patient. I don’t want you to leave.”

  I slump. “You don’t?”

  “No.” She steps in front of me, forcing me to stop walking. “I don’t like the other girls in there. They make me uncomfortable. I’m probably being selfish, but I want you to stay with me.”

  I moan, her plea removing any resolve I had to go home. “I won’t quit.”

  She smiles. “Then let Lucas help you. I promise I’ll make sure he’s nice to you.”

  I glance at Lucas, but he stares at Clarissa. It seems like he’s avoiding looking at me. “I don’t want to put him out.”

  “It won’t.” She squeezes my hands.

  I look at Lucas again. He glances at me but returns to staring at Clarissa when our eyes meet.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” I ask, hoping he’ll say he does so I don’t have to endure his awkwardness.

  “Nope.”

  Darn it.

  “It’s settled.” Clarissa gives my hands a shake. “When we have some down time, Lucas will help you.” She grins up at Lucas. “Thank you.”

  He shrugs. “I hope this makes you happy.”

  “It does.”

  He’ll train me to keep Clarissa happy. That makes me feel real special. I hurry by them. “I gotta get my makeover.”

  “Okay.” Clarissa’s hand brushes my elbow. “Everything will be okay.”

  I enter the stylist’s room and he gasps, horror written all over his face. His team swings to face me as he fakes a faint. “I’m supposed to work with this?”

  I snort, done with all the criticism about my appearance. “I’m none too pleased either. Could we just get this over with?”

  Lydia, Arnie, and Levi appear, all smiles. Lydia is wearing a hairstylist’s shawl as she throws her arms around me. “Look! They gave me new clothes and a new haircut.”

  “Us too,” Levi says, pointing at himself and Arnie, but looking far less impressed by his makeover than Lydia.

  “You look very handsome,” I say to him.

  He grins. “Thanks, Hailey.”

  “Ugh. Enough.” The stylist grabs my chin, examining my face. “They were easy to clean up. You…don’t you believe in grooming?”

  I push his hand away. “I get my eyebrows waxed.”

  “That’s all, and by the looks of things, your waxer never went to beauty school.”

  I scowl, fed up with the negative comments.

  “I guess you’re pretty, in a homely, girl next door kind of way. But you are no Jessica or Whitney. Those two girls were fun. Or Clarissa. Oh, what a stunning base template to work with!”

  Levi gags.

  “Shoo, children.” The stylist waves his hand for the Murphys to be taken away. “Now for you.”

  I really do not like the way he’s smirking at me.

  ***

  He wouldn’t let me see my hair or makeup until I’d dressed. He tosses a floral tank top at me and black skinny jeans. When I step out, he scowls. “Your boobs look saggy.”

  “I’m wearing a bra.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Your attitude is wearing my patience thin.” He pulls up my shirt.

  “Hey!”

  “Ugh. This bra is awful. Fit her.”

  Two women rush at me and take my measurements. “36D.”

  “Thirty-six?” He shakes his head. “They’re getting fatter and fatter.”

  “I’m not fat!”

  “Get her a seamless demi. Black lace.”

  “No one is seeing my bra,” I say with a snarl.

  “Fine. Be boring. Nude.” He waves his hand and the women scurry away.

  He looks me over slowly. “Not bad. Turn.”

  I spin around.

  He frowns. “Slowly.”

  I turn slowly.

  “You must be the most irritating contestant I’ve ever worked with.” He rests his hands on my shoulders and tilts up my chin. “But I’ve found the beauty hidden underneath. I am a master genius.”

  I touch my hair, feeling its lightness from the cut and bounce from the loose curls. They’d colored it, and by the looks of things, I’m now blonde, so I hope I don’t
look like Barbie.

  “Don’t touch.” He pulls my hand away.

  The women return with a bra, and I hurry to change into it. When I step out, the stylist grins. “One last thing.”

  He hands me a pair of silver stilettos.

  “No.”

  “Put. Them. On.”

  I step into them, wobbling.

  He frowns. “Fine. Try these.” He gives me a pair of silver ballet flats. “There it is. Our girl next door.”

  He guides me to the mirrors and my jaw drops. I don’t even recognize myself. I look natural; the makeup just highlights my features, and my hair looks thick, bouncy, and isn’t completely blonde, but highlighted to brighten it. The outfit really does make me look curvy, and I feel incredibly sexy.

  “Hailey!”

  I swing around. Isaiah eyes me over with wide eyes and a huge smile. “You’re gorgeous.”

  My flush is coming on again, so I turn away.

  “Thank you, Isaiah,” the stylist says, fixing his hair. “If you can see it, then my work is complete.”

  Isaiah steps up beside me, staring at our reflections in the mirror. I wish they’d gone a bit heavier on the makeup to hide my red cheeks. He touches my hair as he looks me over. “You were easy on the eyes to start with, but this? Phew.”

  “Thanks,” I respond, staring at the ground.

  “Hey, wanna go for lunch? It’s late, so everyone else has gone and come back. I’m kinda glad I found you so I don’t have to go alone.”

  On cue, my stomach growls. “I’m not sure if I’m done.”

  “You’re done.” The stylist waves his hand in the air. “I’ll have some outfits set aside for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He waves his hand again, walking away.

  “Were you a pain?” Isaiah asks with a smirk.

  “I’m never a pain.”

  He chuckles. “That’s not what I’ve noticed. You’re one stubborn chick.”

  “Maybe everyone else is being a pain.”

  His grin widens. “That must be it.”

  Oh crap, my heart fluttered.

  “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

  He leads me out to the street, chatting the whole way. This Isaiah I like. The drunk one and the flirty one make me uncomfortable. But this one, the one who seems content enjoying my company, I can live with.

  We slip into a booth in a café. He orders and turns his attention to me. “So, your turn to talk.”

  “Me?” I lean back against the padded seat. “I’m not very interesting.”

  “Mmm, you kind of are.” He rests his hands on the table, palms up, as if inviting me to hold them. “On one hand, you’re this quiet, demure, sweet little thing, then on the other you have this suppressed fire, this stubbornness that irritates the crap out of Jeff and everyone else. I can’t quite figure you out.”

  I clear my throat, feeling his eyes on me as I stare at his hands. “I just don’t want to be exploited.”

  His fingers wriggle, and my urge to grab them makes my arms tense. “I doubt that will happen to you.” I look into his eyes. He smiles. “You know, with your hair like that, your eyes look more blue than gray.”

  I drop my gaze. “Tom says when I wear my hair loose it does that too.”

  He touches my chin. “Look at me.”

  I look into his eyes, my belly filling with butterflies at his intense gaze.

  “Wow, you’re gorgeous.”

  I push his hand away. “And taken.”

  “Pity.”

  My cheeks warm. He can’t mean that, can he? Not someone like him. Why does it matter? I have to focus on Tom.

  Our food arrives. We eat as he talks about his singing experiences through high school and how he now works selling phones until he figures out what to do with his life. No doubt, with his looks and charms, he makes a fantastic salesman.

  As we finish, it dawns on me that he’s holding my hand in his, gently stroking my knuckles with his thumbs. When did that happen? I pull away, tucking my hair behind my ear, and firmly place my hand under my thigh.

  He smiles, examining my face closely, then digs out his wallet. “I got it.”

  “No, I can pay.”

  He asks for the check, just one, and slides his card in before I have a chance to do anything.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I say.

  “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t pay for the meal of a beautiful woman who allowed me the pleasure of her company?”

  He’s good.

  When I don’t respond—just blush like a stupid teenage girl—he smiles. “We should do this again.”

  I nod and immediately regret it. If I do this again, it would certainly be a date. I feel like a total floozy. “As long as Clarissa comes too.” There, I covered my butt.

  His eyebrow twitches, but he nods. “Okay.”

  We head back. As we walk in the door, Lucas marches toward us. Isaiah swears and grabs my arm, pulling me in front of him. “Sorry, Hailey, but he won’t hit you.”

  “What?”

  Lucas pauses a few feet in front of us. He draws a sharp breath as he looks at me blocking him from his brother, who apparently did something worth getting hit over.

  “You wouldn’t hit Hailey,” Isaiah says.

  Lucas glares at him over my shoulder, his expression darkening. “I’m not an idiot.” He looks at me again. “Stay away from him.”

  He reaches for Isaiah, but Isaiah uses me as a shield. I don’t like that. I pull away. “I’m not getting into the middle of this.”

  “Good.” Lucas points toward the rehearsal rooms. “Get to where you’re supposed to be.”

  “I’m staying with Hailey.” Isaiah grabs my arm.

  “No.” I try to wriggle free. “I don’t know the issues you guys have, and I don’t want to either. So please don’t use me as protection.”

  “Okay.” Isaiah releases me and hurries back to the rehearsal room.

  Lucas growls. “Don’t hang out with him.”

  I glare at him. “You know, I’m a little tired of people telling me what to do.”

  I march away.

  He hurries after me. “I’m not telling you what to do.”

  “It sounds like it.”

  He groans. “If you want to stay out of our issues, just stay away from him.” He pushes the door open.

  I fold my arms and huff. “Fine. But I won’t blow him off if he talks to me.”

  “If you want to keep your relationship with your boyfriend intact, you will.”

  “I can handle myself.” I brush by him.

  “He can handle you too.”

  I flinch but keep walking. I don’t know why Lucas dislikes me so much, but I won’t let it bother me. Especially as I catch Isaiah smile when everyone turns and looks at the new me in awe.

  Jeff watches me. When the contestant he’s working with finishes, he makes a beeline for me. “Miss Becker.”

  I look up at him, bracing for his worst.

  “Better.” He motions for me to follow. “Do you like your new look?”

  “Mostly.” I rub my bare arms. “I feel a little exposed.”

  “You’re not.” We reach the rehearsal space. He draws a deep breath as he looks me over, his hands on his hips. “You’ve watched the show, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m known as the nice guy, right?”

  I nod.

  “You don’t think I am, do you?”

  I don’t want to answer, so I drop my gaze.

  “Ah!” He taps on my chin. “Get your eyes back up here.”

  I glare at him.

  He smirks. “I don’t particularly like your attitude either. But you’re a crowd pleaser, and ratings keep food in my kids’ bellies.” He ruffles his dark hair. “So please me. You sing well, and you look…better. Pleasing. So, wow me.”

  “You want me to do my song?”

  “No, I want you to run a marathon. Of course I want you t
o sing!”

  I clear my throat and start to sing. Barely halfway through the first verse, he covers my mouth. “Enough. Try without your voice.”

  I push his hand off. “What?”

  “Perform without your voice.”

  “I’m a singer. I sing.”

  He rubs his temple. “I’m done with you. Get out of my sight.” He looks over my head. “Next.”

  Chapter Six

  I sit on my bed, studying, as Clarissa removes her makeup. I struggle to focus, but Jeff’s words bother me. Perform without my voice? Did he expect me to lip sync?

  “Hailey?”

  I glance toward the bathroom door. Since I can’t focus, I decide a chat will be a good way to let out some stress. “Yeah?”

  “That guy, Tyler, asked me out today.”

  “Really?” I set my laptop and textbook aside. I’ve been so engrossed in my own woes to consider what she’d been doing.

  “I turned him down.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She pokes her head out the doorway. “He was creepy, you know? He kept staring at my boobs, and when I said no, he got angry.”

  I wince. “That is pretty creepy.”

  “Right?” She pulls her head back into the bathroom. “Hailey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know you’re beautiful, right?”

  “Ahh…” I slide off the bed and stand by the bathroom door. “Where is this coming from?”

  She shrugs as she wipes her eyes. “Nowhere. Your makeover really brought it all to the surface, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, Isaiah’s eyes just about popped.”

  She winces. “He’s not hitting on you, is he?”

  “No.” I can’t help myself. After Lucas’s threats, the question just bursts out. “What’s the deal with him and Lucas?”

  She flinches and turns to me. “Nothing.”

  “That’s certainly not nothing. The tension between them is almost explosive.”

  “Isaiah just bothers Lucas.” She turns back to the mirror.

  She closes the door tightly, and I don’t want to press for answers. It’s not my business. “Jeff told me to sing without using my voice.”

  “Huh?” She turns back to facing me.

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  “But singing is using your voice.”

  “Yeah.”