Facade

by Kim Carmichael

  She gnashed her teeth together. “You’re a bastard.”

  “Because it’s the truth?” He casually shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “No.” She stepped right up to him. “Because it’s stupid, and it’s a lie. Don’t make your problems mine.”

  At her strength, her words, he rushed to her and took her by the shoulders. “Where did you go? You seemed to be gone forever.”

  Instead of flinching, she stared into his eyes. “I wanted to check my messages, I wanted to buy some things to make us dinner, and I wanted to fill out this.” She reached into her pocket and held up a card.

  A quick scan of the document revealed a change of address card. “Fill it out.”

  Her chest heaved with her breaths. “Why?”

  “Because I want you to.” When did this get real?

  “Then I want you to hear me.” She swallowed. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I’m proud to be with you.”

  Somewhere back in the sane regions of his mind he knew he couldn’t or shouldn’t be in love with her. However, time, his injury, his life took their toll on him, and this Erik, the Erik that was now him, knew he was desperately in love with her, the kind of love that could crush them both. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

  “For the first time I know exactly what I want,” she whispered.

  Beyond his control, he pulled her in, pulled her tight against him and lowered his face to hers. Lord, she fit perfectly in the contours of his body, as if she belonged there. “I don’t think you do.”

  “Yes, I do.” Her breath caressed his lips.

  His body reacted accordingly. He had to have her, needed to kiss her, wanted to be with her. All he had to do was take what he was sick of denying himself. The second he kissed her that would be it, he would never be able to let her go.

  She didn’t know what she was asking for, and he didn’t know what to do. He had to save them both. “We have an audition in two days.” At his own words, he did the hardest thing he ever did and let go.

  Chapter Nine

  “Come here, let me fix something.” Erik motioned for her.

  Christine did the only thing she could and headed straight for the man who was determined to make her insane. Every time he looked in her direction, talked to her, dare she say even touch her, she was quite sure she was going to explode with either frustration or desire—she wasn’t sure which one was stronger.

  He tilted his head, reached forward, and adjusted her necklace. “Now you are perfection.”

  Well, if she was perfection, why wouldn’t kiss her? Instead, he chose to torture her. “Are you sure I’m not overdressed?” In a floor length black, body-conscious dress, with a long string of pearls around her neck and her hair done up in a copious amount of curls, she felt more like she was going to see a performance in a great theatre rather than give a performance at a trendy Hollywood theatre.

  “Of course you’re overdressed.” Hand on his chin, he took slow steps around her. “And you are magnificent, a stand out in every way, no one will ever forget seeing you or hearing you.”

  “Erik.” Her heart beat so furiously she was sure it would throw off her musical timing.

  “Yes, Christine?” He handed her the contracts she needed to turn in at the time of her audition and a small beaded bag that held her ID and other necessities she might need.

  “You’re going to be there, right?” Since she came to live with him, she never once saw him step outside, nor did he speak to anyone but her. Groceries and other things were delivered to them and left in the theatre loading dock, but no one ever came in their space.

  “Do you honestly think I would miss this?” He put on a long black overcoat, turned the collar up, then held his arm out to her. “Come along, you can’t be late.”

  Her mind was mush, and she was a mess. Without comment she took his arm and they left the theatre together.

  She stopped at a long, black limousine parked right outside with the door open. “Erik?” She held him tighter.

  “We cannot walk five miles, what did you expect?” He guided her into the car and slid in beside her. After closing the door, he knocked on the raised panel between the driver and them. “We’re ready.”

  The car glided away.

  “Erik.” She kept hold of his arm. Something was wrong with her if she was more enthralled with making sure she remained in contact with him rather than asking the identity of their mystery driver.

  “Yes?” He faced her and brushed her bangs off her forehead.

  Not sure what she really wanted to ask, she shrugged.

  “You are all warmed up and ready, you know your music, everything’s fine.” He nodded.

  Nothing felt fine. She sort of wanted to throw up or go back home to the theatre and throw up, maybe she just wanted to go back home, but then what would Erik think after all the work he put into getting her ready? “Erik.” Somehow she only seemed able to utter his name. Too bad she had to sing lyrics that didn’t involve his name.

  They pulled up to the theatre, and she grabbed his hand. “Erik.” Her face felt hot, she hoped she wasn’t sweating.

  “Yes.” He opened a bottle of water and held it to her lips.

  Dutifully, she took a sip. “What if I don’t make it?”

  With his thumb, he wiped a droplet off her lower lip. “What if you do?” He took her hand, opened it and placed a golden cricket broach on her palm before leaning over and opening the car door. “Now, go chirp and keep hold of that. It doesn’t really go with your outfit, but it is good luck.”

  “What?” She grabbed his arm. “You said you would be there.”

  “I will. Don’t give it a second thought.” He winked.

  “How will I find you after?” Seriously, they should just go home. This was a bad idea, but then what would he do with her? If she didn’t make it in the competition would he kick her out? “Oh, god.” She pressed her palm to her stomach.

  “Just know I’ll be there, I would never leave you behind. I know it’s against your nature, but follow the darkness.” He gave her a kiss on the temple and moved his lips down to her ear. “Let the world hear what I do.”

  Cricket, bag and papers in hand, she took a breath and got out, cursing the fact his first kiss was on possibly the most benign spot on the human body, unless he had kissed the top of her head.

  She clutched her items and made her way inside to the chaos.

  Erik was right, she did stand out. People there were in various get ups including the traditional rock tattered jeans and t-shirts, matching uniforms for some of the bands, and the ultra-sexy, maybe even pornographic outfits some of the women wore. Maybe Erik wanted something closer to that in his bed. He seemed to have a definite edge to him. A kiss on the temple was nothing but a project, not a love interest.

  Stage of Stars was the number one show for upcoming talent in popular music. If chosen in the audition, the contestants made their way through weekly performances of various musical genres, everything from rap to gospel to pop.

  She weaved her way through the people and stood in line for quite some time until she made it to a reception desk. Her mind cluttered with thoughts of Erik and her performance, she perfunctory turned in her paperwork.

  “Go to the line at stage door seven. You’ll perform and be told right there if you made it or not. If you do, you will be handed an envelope stating your genre and all the rules and when to return.” The man behind the table handed her a number. “Your music will be ready.”

  The whole space was packed full. After being with Erik day in and day out in the serene quiet of their theatre, the noise seemed to make the walls close in on her. She needed to take a breath. “Is there a bathroom?”

  “Follow the signs, then get in line. This is a fast process.” He pointed.

  “Thank you.” As if in a trance, she made it to the restroom. Women were lined up all along the mirrors adjusting and primping, and a few glanced over at her, but then c
ontinued on. With the makeup she and Erik diligently worked on earlier, she knew she couldn’t splash any water on her face. Her whole body shook and her stomach reeled, while she waited in yet another line until she could get into one of the stalls.

  Inside, she took a deep breath and tried to get herself together, choosing to open up her sweaty hand and gaze down at the latest gift Erik had bestowed upon her.

  At last, she smiled. The golden cricket was intricately made with emerald eyes that sparkled in the light.

  “Ugh, this is going to take forever.” An all too familiar voice cut through all of the chatter in the restroom. “There’s line after line and now another one. Can’t a girl even pee? Guys have it so easy.”

  At Carly’s voice, Christine closed her hand around her cricket. With all the people here, what were the chances of both of them being here at the same time? If she were here, that meant the rest of the band would be as well. Christine peeked through the little gap between the stall doors. There Carly was in all her glory, teasing up her hair at the mirror and talking to a couple of the other girls.

  “I’m with Rat Race.” Carly took a lipstick out of her bag. “We took a back-to-basics approach with our band. At one point we had some scuzzy low-life backup singer, but then I got rid of her as she was holding us back. Honestly, there’s only room for one girl in my group.”

  At the nasty words about her, Christine winced.

  The few minions around Carly nodded, one told their tale of going solo.

  “Well, at least you didn’t have some homeless little waif hanging on to your coattails.” One last time, Carly flipped her hair and then, with her head held high, stomped out of the bathroom.

  Christine kneeled down. Every part of her wanted to run out there, grab Carly by the arm and tell the nasty woman that she had a home, a glorious one, a home the likes of which she would never know. If it really were her home. Yes, she could change her address, but that didn’t make the theatre her home. Only one man could do that.

  Of course, now she had a bigger problem. The band was out there, four against one, and the odds of her running into one of them multiplied every second.

  She opened the stall door, and once ensuring the coast, or in this case, the bathroom was clear, she stepped out, not even bothering to glance at herself as she tiptoed over to the exit.

  At spying Ramon only a few yards away, she gasped and jumped back into the restroom.

  “Hey, watch it, fancy pants.” Another woman, this one with spiked up hair, pushed her out of the way, causing her to stumble into yet another person.

  “Get out of my way, diva.” This woman also shoved her, and Christine tripped on the hem of her own skirt, finally catching herself on the paper towel dispenser and dropping her cricket.

  A few other females walked by her. One kicked the cricket under the sink, laughing.

  Adrenaline coursing through her, she practically skidded across the no doubt filthy black and white tiled floor. Not caring who didn’t like her near them, she retrieved her treasure and pressed it to her heart as she stood.

  After brushing off her dress and doing her best to fix her hair, she left the bathroom, staying close to the walls and keeping an eye out for any of her former band members.

  At long last, she found the line at stage door seven. Again, she glanced around the space. Where was Erik? Was he here as he promised? Or, was he simply sitting in the car with whatever driver he’d hired? Worse yet, did he leave?

  Seemed to her everyone else had someone there. Either their band mates or well-wishers, someone. Why, oh why, couldn’t Erik have just come with her? With all the different types here, he would blend in, and she really didn’t care if he didn’t, she just wanted him here.

  Carly had one thing right, this experience was nothing but endless lines. In the latest one, Christine stood on her tiptoes and searched for Ramon. Her chest tightened when, across the way, she spotted her entire band huddled around, no doubt in one of Ramon’s strategy sessions. Had they already auditioned, or were they waiting?

  Using a move fit for an ostrich, she turned her back to them and bumped into the girl ahead of her. “Sorry.” She didn’t need another incident.

  Thankfully, this person didn’t really acknowledge her as it was her turn to go up on stage.

  For the millionth time her mind wandered to Erik. Where was he?

  The woman at the door held her hand out. “Number please.”

  Her hand shook as she handed the woman at the door her number, and on weak legs she stepped inside the auditorium to wait for her audition.

  Only a scant few seats were taken inside. Up at the front, she made out the celebrity judges. Justin White, a well-known pop star, Perry Ross, a song writer, and Michelle Mitchel, a record producer, all took the center first row. Behind them were other officials. Cameras lined the auditorium. Scattered throughout the rest of the seats were some random people seated in the darkness. For a moment her heart swelled, wondering if Erik worked his magic and was waiting for her in the audience all along.

  The woman currently on stage sang her song, a popular alternative rock tune.

  She barely made it through her first verse when a buzzer rang through the auditorium.

  “Stop!” A man from the third row stood up.

  The singer shook her head.

  “Thank you, but you’re not what we’re looking for.” The man pointed to the exit. “Please exit, and you will receive a bag of swag.”

  Christine bit her lip.

  In a flash, the woman’s dream was over, and she left the stage with her head hung low.

  Next, Christine watched a group come on stage, all men, with the grunge/alternative thing going for them.

  “Chimera’s Dungeon.” The scruffy lead singer spoke into the microphone and the band began to play.

  The band had depth, strength, unity, the singer’s passion almost reminded her of Erik the night he sang to her. They played a popular tune, but put their own spin on it, and she found herself mouthing the words with them.

  They made it through their entire song and Perry, the writer, stood. “You know a cover is excellent when you prefer that version to the original.” He held up an envelope. “Congratulations. Get ready to take on the other bands in the Stage of Stars.”

  The band members high-fived each other, shook hands with the judges, and walked off stage.

  The woman who took her number motioned for her to go up on stage. “Your turn. State your name and then the music will start.”

  As Christine made her way up the stairs, she squeezed her cricket. The sharp metal edges cut into her hand, but she almost welcomed the pain. The chances of her making it after another band just made it were slim to none, or basically zero.

  “Ch..” She grabbed the microphone stand, swallowed and scanned the audience. If nothing else, Erik should be easy to spot. “Christine Day.”

  Her music started, and she darted her eyes to each one of the corners. Erik had to be here, he said he would be here.

  He wasn’t. She was all alone and she let the music play.

  Chapter Ten

  With his cane in hand, Nash wedged himself into the small space in one of the stage wings where props were kept. “You know, just once maybe it would be refreshing to either be up on stage or in the audience.”

  “We used to be on stage all the time.” Erik shook his head and leaned back on some old fashioned table behind some meadow set piece. From their vantage point they could clearly make out the stage and blend into the background. “I don’t need to be in an audience.”

  “Well, if nothing else, you could make it as a spy.” Nash let out a low chuckle. “You have a true knack for being able to sneak around.”

  “Yeah, great spy, I’m very easy to pick out of a crowd, hence, the sneaking.” Erik watched one of the contestants come up on stage. He hoped Christine found her way through the crowd all right, she seemed exceptionally nervous. Maybe he should have gone with her rather than made
her navigate the chaos alone, or maybe part of him wanted her to realize how badly she needed him. He was truly a terrible being, not fit for her.

  The male contestant took hold of the microphone and his long bangs fell into his eyes. Apparently the boy was going for some sort of emo look. Erik shrugged, the whole thing was rather passé.

  His music started, a predicable folk rock tune and Erik winced once the boy began to sing. It wasn’t bad per se, it was just nothing. Why on earth did this person even try out? If this person made it, Christine would be a shoe in.

  Not even all the way into the first verse, some a man in the audience stood up. “Stop!”

  Well, that was rude.

  Erik grunted. Boring or not, no one should be interrupted mid-song. Though in truth, he was happy he didn’t have to listen to any more.

  “Thank you, but you’re not what we’re looking for.” The man pointed to the exit. “Please exit and you will receive a bag of swag.”

  Nash elbowed him. “What’s swag?”

  “Premiums and other things you give out for free. It means stuff we all get.” Erik shrugged.

  “Speaking of stuff we all should get, I have something for you.” Nash fumbled around in his pocket and pressed something into Erik’s hand. “Actually, two things.”

  It might have been a while, but Erik knew a condom, or two, when he felt one. “What is this for?” He sighed, waiting for a snarky response.

  “Because you need it. Because just in case things go your way you’re ready, because it’s time for you to move on with your life.” Nash’s tone was even and serious.

  “What? So that you can go on with yours?” Erik closed his hand around the condoms.

  “Just take it. I think Christine is good for you. She wants you. You both deserve it,” Nash whispered.

  No, he didn’t use sex the way Nash did to get over what happened, and though he wanted to thrust the condoms back at his friend, he didn’t need this right now and shoved them into his pants pocket. “Someone else is coming on stage.”