Under the Spotlight

by Angie Stanton

  “Oh, that was a long time ago. I can’t believe you even recognized her. She was in, like, middle school,” Erika said.

  “No, I swear to God it couldn’t have been that long ago. She was singing with Steven Hunter. That hair is kind of hard to miss.”

  “Are you serious?” Erika asked.

  “What!” Only a handful of people knew she’d sung with Steven.

  “We were messing around waiting for a shipment and my friend from work was playing a bunch of vintage rock. Then this version of ‘Eclipse’ with Steven Hunter came on. The only reason I noticed is that it was a different version of the song. A cooler version.”

  Erika pulled out her phone and started searching. “I’ve gotta see this.”

  Riley’s gut tightened into a knot.

  “Hey, Chad, you gonna play ball or suck face?” a teammate hollered.

  “I gotta go. I’ll catch you guys later.” He adjusted his cap, smiled at Erika, and ran onto the field.

  “Okay,” Erika answered, now focused on her phone. “How is there a new video of you on YouTube? I mean, there hasn’t been anything new since Chart Toppers.”

  Riley watched Erika’s phone as she brought up the site and tapped in the name “Steven Hunter.” “I have no idea. No, wait. There was a guy with a video camera. He was with the band. Oh my God, he filmed the whole thing.”

  She leaned back against the seat behind her, defeated.

  “I think this might be it.”

  Riley scooted up to watch.

  “Look at you! With Steven Hunter,” Erika squealed.

  “I still can’t believe it happened.”

  “Well, now you have proof.”

  They watched as the video played and she and Steven sang. Riley’s pulse raced as if she were experiencing the whole thing for the first time.

  “Geez, Riley. Look at you rock it out.”

  “I was so scared.” But on the tiny video screen, she looked totally into it. She had given herself over to the moment, and now that she watched, she felt sort of proud.

  “You don’t look nervous. And look, the video has over a hundred thousand views.”

  “How is that possible? This happened only a couple of days ago.”

  “It’s Steven Hunter. Of course the video has gone viral.” The song ended and Erika pounded her feet on the metal bleachers. “You are all over YouTube! This is so cool!”

  Riley slumped against the row behind her and shook her head. “This is not good.”

  “Oh, stop overreacting. You’re not in high school anymore. Nothing bad’s going to happen.”

  Still, a shadow of dread hung over her. The whole idea of being noticed, being under the microscope again, made her stomach sick. “I can’t believe someone posted that video. Why would they do that?”

  “Because it’s kick-ass!”

  Riley sat up. “Oh my God, I know who did it.”

  “Who?”

  “Garrett. And I’m gonna kill him.”

  14

  Riley stepped onto the Chart Toppers stage. The stylist had dressed her in an obnoxious orange dress with a big flouncy skirt, high-top sneakers, and yards of long necklaces draped around her neck. The woman from hair and makeup had pulled her hair into a ponytail high on the left side of her head.

  The lights came up and Riley sensed the eyes of four thousand audience members staring at her. The cameras loomed from every direction. Her mentor and judge, Desiree Diamond, introduced her as the best new artist the show had ever discovered.

  The peppy beat of the bubblegum pop song Desiree had selected for her blared through the sound system. Riley tried to bounce to the chippy tune, but felt like a fool. She trotted around the stage singing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

  She’d never heard the song until five days ago, but Desiree assured her it was a huge hit in its day. This decades-old song would determine if she stayed on the show or got sent home on the next flight. So she gave it her best effort.

  When the song ended, Riley, out of breath, took center stage. This was the worst part of the show. The judges would critique her performance. She braced herself.

  Morton King, a distinguished African-American record producer, spoke first. “I hate the outfit, and I hate the song. You looked like an eight-year-old jumping around a bouncy tent at a birthday party.”

  Despite her desire to agree with the opinionated judge, Riley kept a smile pasted on her face.

  “Riley, you didn’t connect with the song. If you want to stay in the competition, you’re going to have to work harder,” Desiree said.

  “Thank you, I will,” she said, trying to look voteworthy, but wanting to scream in frustration.

  “Riley, did you pick that outfit?” asked judge Jason Edgette, a successful recording artist.

  “God no,” Riley blurted before she could stop herself. She laughed nervously.

  Jason turned to Desiree. “Why would you put her in such a hideous outfit? It’s no wonder she couldn’t relate to the song.”

  Desiree faked a happy tone. “I think she looks adorable, and the costume goes perfectly with the theme of the song.”

  “Maybe it did back in the 1980s. You made her look ridiculous,” Jason said.

  Riley didn’t know whether to feel like an idiot or to thank Jason for defending her.

  The host of the show joined her onstage. “Okay, audience, what do you think? Did you like the outfit?”

  The audience erupted into loud boos. How would she ever stay on the show when she was being humiliated on national television?

  Riley woke with a start. She hadn’t suffered those bad dreams in a long time. That is, until Garrett arrived and started trying to force her to sing. And now, with the YouTube video reminding people of the girl who failed on Chart Toppers, she panicked that the whole thing would happen again. Garrett had to stop. He needed to butt out.

  She tried to calm herself down as she showered and dressed for work, but by the time she reached Sound Sync, her temper was like a ticking time bomb.

  Not ten feet into the studio, she spotted Garrett drinking coffee and hanging out with Tim. She drilled Garrett with a lethal glare as she stormed past him and into the employee lounge to store her bag. He appeared a moment later.

  “Good morning to you, too. Have a nice weekend?” he drawled, all cool and casual in his high-priced jeans and topsiders.

  Riley tried to ignore him.

  “Nice video. Looks like you’re a star again.” He laughed.

  Riley came at him full force. She shoved him in the chest, knocking him against the wall, spilling his coffee down the front of his shirt.

  “Whoa! What’s your problem?”

  She grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him. “You had no right to post that video. Take it down.”

  “Look at Riley, all riled up. It’s adorable. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you might kick a puppy.”

  “You don’t know me! So butt out of my life.”

  “Why would I do that when it’s so fun to mess with you?”

  “Oh my God, you are such a bastard! No wonder your brothers quit the band. They couldn’t stand being around you.”

  Garrett flinched, but didn’t respond. Was it pain she saw reflected in his eyes?

  “Now take the video down or you’ll live to regret it.”

  He set down his coffee cup and adjusted his shirt. “As much as I’m enjoying your fiery little tirade and would like to take credit for it, I didn’t post the video.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I wish I were. It was a brilliant move and goes to prove my point that you need to record some music and get your ass back onstage. Plus, from the look of things, you could use the money.”

  Her face burned with embarrassment. He was right about the money. Her clothes were old and her jeans frayed, but they were clean. “Screw you,” she said.

  His mouth curled into a smirk. “No thanks, you’re not my type.”

  “Am I your t
ype?” Tara appeared carrying a courier envelope.

  Garrett’s eyes dashed over Tara in her low-cut top and clinging skirt.

  “Hey, Riley, this just arrived for you.” She handed over the envelope.

  “What is it?” Riley asked.

  “Probably a subpoena. Have you broken any laws lately?” Garrett commented.

  “No one’s talking to you,” she snapped, and accepted the envelope. She didn’t recognize the company name or return address.

  She tore it open and pulled out a few sheets of paper, clipped together. Scrawled across the stationery was a note.

  Hey Red,

  Great jam session!

  Thanks for the footage.

  Living the dream, baby!

  Steven Hunter

  She removed the paper clip. Behind the note was a form with her name printed on it and a little green tab with an arrow that read SIGN HERE.

  “What is it?” Tara asked.

  “It’s a note from Steven Hunter and some sort of a release form.”

  She looked at the next page and her jaw dropped. “Oh my God!” Her hand shook as she stared at the corporate check made out to Riley Parks for five thousand dollars.

  Garrett leaned in to see. “Looks like your money problems are over. Not bad for ten minutes’ worth of work.”

  Riley leaned against the bathroom stall door. She needed a minute to breathe and make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She read her name on the check over and over and counted the zeroes to make sure she hadn’t misread it.

  Five thousand dollars.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. This money could do so much. She could finally get ahead. She wouldn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck. She could go shopping!

  No, that would be stupid. She needed to get as much mileage out of this money as she could. Maybe she could go to school. That had been her plan until she found out her mom spent her college money. Maybe she could get a business degree. Something where she could have a job like Barry’s. He was the smartest businessman she knew, not that she knew many. He found a way to combine music and business. That would be perfect. Of course, five thousand would barely get her started, but it was a lot bigger start than she had an hour ago.

  She leafed through the documents and stopped at the release form. There was a lot of legal mumbo jumbo about rights, indemnification, and breach of contract. She had no idea what it all meant or what exactly she was supposed to sign off on, but Barry would know.

  She snuck out of the bathroom and beelined for Barry’s office.

  “Oh. Sorry.” She startled when she saw Logan at the small table in the owner’s office. “Have you seen Barry?”

  “He should be back in a minute. He had to go put out a fire in Studio C. Literally. Candace Capri lit candles all over the studio to set the mood. Barry was afraid the smoke alarm would go off and trigger the sprinkler system. What a lousy way to ruin thousands of dollars in equipment.”

  Riley’s heart thumped loud in her chest. She couldn’t bear to keep her news from Logan. “Want to see something incredible?”

  “Sure.” He put down his papers.

  With her hand shaking, she set the letter and check in front of him.

  “Holy moly!”

  “I know. Right? This is totally insane.”

  “Why is Steven Hunter giving you all this money?”

  She scooped up the papers. “I think it’s for the video we shot.”

  “I saw the video, but I wasn’t going to say anything. I figured you’d be totally pissed.”

  “I was. I thought Garrett posted it, but I think the Graphite Angels did. And now, well, I don’t know what to think.”

  “Hard to get mad when you’re looking at all those zeroes.”

  “Exactly.” Her phone buzzed, and she looked at it to find a text from her mom. Before she could read it, Barry walked in shaking his head.

  “I swear this day couldn’t get any nuttier.”

  “Actually, I think it might.” Riley put away her phone and held out the documents.

  “What’s this?” He pulled glasses from his shirt pocket and slid them on. He read the check, glanced at Riley over his rims, and whistled.

  “Here’s the letter and a release document I’m supposed to sign. I’m not sure exactly what I’d be signing off on and thought you might be able to explain it.”

  “Let’s take a look,” he said, accepting the papers and rounding his desk to sit.

  Logan scooped up his log sheets. “I’ll get out of here and let you guys talk.” He closed the door behind him.

  Riley sat across from Barry.

  “I think the papers are asking me to allow the Graphite Angels to use that YouTube video, but I don’t really understand a lot of those clauses.”

  Barry scanned the document for a minute before answering. “That’s pretty much it, but it’s also giving them permission to use your version of the song in any future recordings and performances, as well as using the video for any promotional or entertainment purposes they wish.”

  “How could they use it for promotional purposes? It’s only a video of a studio session. It’s not even that good.”

  “They may not plan on using it that way, but they want the rights to do so, should it come up.” He paused and removed his glasses.

  “Honestly, that studio jam session you did with Steven Hunter was PR gold. You may not see it that way, but here’s an older band that wants to stay relevant to a new generation. If I were them, I’d blast that video everywhere. Not only is it their signature song, but it’s done with a new melodic twist, thanks to you, and it features a dynamic young voice that most people don’t know.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t like the idea of the video being blasted anywhere, but the odds of that were low. Plus, people didn’t know who she was, so other than putting up with her coworkers’ jibes, it shouldn’t affect her that much.

  “All in all, I’d say it’s a fair deal. Unless, of course, you plan on launching your own career and want control over what is put out about you. Have your feelings on the subject changed?”

  “God, no!”

  “If that’s the case, I don’t think this will mean too much, other than some cash in your pocket.”

  “So you think it’s okay to sign?”

  Barry smiled. “Yes. I think it’s fine to sign. You can always call a lawyer to take a look at it.”

  “Oh no. I trust you. If you think it’s okay, I’m good with that.”

  “Congratulations. What are you going to do with all this money? I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to quit.”

  Riley smiled. “Oh gosh, no. I love working here. I’m putting this in the bank where it’s safe.”

  “Good idea.”

  As she left Barry’s office, the stress from the last few days disappeared.

  15

  “Logan, hold up,” Garrett called as he saw Logan leave Barry’s office.

  “Hey, Garrett.”

  He walked with Logan. “You’ve worked here a while, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, almost a year now. Why? You need some help with something?”

  “I do, but it’s not what you think.” Garrett kept running into brick walls trying to get Riley to record with him. Time to find another way to convince her.

  “Now you have me interested.”

  “I realize I’ve gotten off on the wrong foot with Riley.”

  Logan fought back a smile.

  “Okay, so it’s public knowledge she can’t stand me.”

  “I never said that,” he laughed.

  “You didn’t need to. Riley’s not very subtle with her opinions. I’m not sure what I did to piss her off, but I really don’t want her to hate me anymore.”

  “No offense, but why do you care? You’re a pretty popular guy around here, and probably anywhere you go.” Logan paused and examined Garrett closer. “Oh, dude, I get it. You like her!” Logan grinned and nodded, sending his dreads swaying.

  “No! Wh
y would you say that?”

  Riley wasn’t even close to his type. She didn’t have the sophistication of the kind of girls he liked. She had that long ginger hair and was always running around in tennis shoes and jeans. However, he had noticed how well they fit her. What was he thinking? “No way. She’s a know-it-all, full of attitude, and always seems pissed off about something.”

  Logan paused at the door to Studio C. “And you’re always baiting her. It’s like you’re trying to get a rise out of her.” He pushed the door open and entered. Garrett followed.

  Logan was right. She was such an easy mark, but teasing was all he was doing. He liked to watch her get all steamed up. Her eyes would flash with irritation. She’d turn feisty and argue back. It was like fighting with his brothers, only better. Peter and Adam didn’t flip their hair or purse their lips.

  “Listen, here’s the deal. The reason I’m at Sound Sync is to learn the ropes and start producing records. When I heard Riley sing, I knew she was something special. That girl has pipes. It’s insane how good she is.” Not to mention totally unfair that someone with her natural talent refused to use it.

  “She blew me away, too. I can’t believe she kept all that under wraps.”

  “Exactly. I really need to convince her to let me produce a record with her.”

  Logan tilted his head in skepticism. “Good luck with that.”

  “You two seem to be pretty good friends. Maybe you could give me some pointers on how to get back in her good graces.”

  “Seriously? Garrett Jamieson is asking me for girl help?”

  “Hey, I can land any girl I want, but this is different. This is business.”

  Logan started flipping switches and powering up equipment. “Well, if you want her to stop hating you, you might want to lighten up. Seems to me that any chance you get, you’re putting pressure on her or telling her how it is. Riley doesn’t take well to that. You’ve got to finesse the situation. Have a couple of conversations where you aren’t actually asking her for anything.”

  Garrett nodded and sat at the console. Easing up on the pressure was not his strong suit, but then again, he could finesse as well as the next guy. He had been pretty direct with Riley. He’d figured she’d jump at the chance to record. “I can do that. And if you could put in a good word for me, I’d really appreciate it.”