Broken Melody (Graffiti On Tour Series)

by Jennifer Miller

  “Well yeah, sure. But the thing is, a band that’s been together that long…has that kind of history…why would they want to add some chick to their group? They’ve built a name for themselves - have had success, and some great hits - I don’t know…it just seems off. I mean, why not just a collaboration with another singer or something? No, there’s something going on.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But how does that affect your desire to show up today?”

  “It doesn’t. No. I guess it shouldn’t.”

  “Exactly. And, Sailor, we’ve been going over this for days. Ever since Jace gave you that card.”

  “God, Britt, I know that,” I snap and then immediately catch myself and reach out and hug her, “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous as hell.”

  “I know. I’ve been hearing you practice in your room when you think I’m not listening each night.”

  “Shut up, I’m not practicing.”

  “Yes, you are. I even heard you pretend to introduce yourself to a crowd,” she laughs and I laugh too. “Come on, let’s buy those items you picked out and get out of here. I want to get started on your hair.”

  We gather our purchases and take them to the register. Of course Britt decided she also needed a new outfit for “our” audition. She said something about not wanting to embarrass me, and if she needs to use me, or this situation, as an excuse to buy something, that’s fine with me.

  I pile my purchases on the counter and watch the sales lady ring them up one by one, place the jewelry in small bags, haphazardly fold the clothing, and bag it all. Placing my card in the chip reader I wait to go through the payment process, privately wishing she had taken more care when handling my new things. I mean this is an extravagance for me. The damage is definitely more than I can afford. Momentarily closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and determine not to think about how much I’m spending and tell myself it’s an investment of sorts. It’s been a long time since I’ve splurged and like Britt said, I need something to feel confident in this afternoon. And if things go my way, I’ll make extremely good use of everything, so I add that to my list of reasons to justify the unplanned expense.

  Next stop is the salon where Britt works. She insisted on doing my hair for tonight. I protested at first. I thought maybe I should do it myself or at most, we should go somewhere and get our hair done together. I didn’t want her to think she had to do that for me, nor did I want to feel or look like anyone but myself. I had no idea what she may envision for the audition but she quickly let me know I was offending her, so I dropped it. She’s doing exactly what I would prefer, wrapping my hair around a hot iron and giving me long loose curls that look pretty falling down my back. I’m blessed with thick dark hair and it doesn’t take much for my hair to look nice. I should have given her more credit for knowing what I’d want.

  When she first started doing my hair, she suggested adding purple or pink highlights. I’m not opposed to the idea, in fact I love it when I see it on other people, but I’m feeling reluctant to do any major changes right now. I don’t know if the way I look is part of what Jace likes about me, and admitting that to myself is a little embarrassing and makes me feel like I have a big ego. But aside from that, I want to walk in there and simply be who I am. No crazy over the top outfit, no gimmicks, no pretend show. Either they like me for me, or they don’t.

  After my hair is complete, Britt has one of the hairdresser’s she works with style hers as well. I’m glad she’s pampering herself too. After, we each get manicures and pedicures. Truth is, the silly conversation while doing this together is keeping me occupied so that my nerves don’t drive me crazy. Otherwise, I probably would have been pacing and panicking all morning in my apartment while practicing like crazy, which would have been such a bad idea. I would have wrecked my voice before even going.

  Racing home, we quickly change our clothes in near silence and then leave again, as it’s time for us to make our way to the studio. We’ve been going non-stop since we got up this morning, hurrying to fit everything in. I’m nervous as hell and kind of feel like I’m going to throw up. I’m trying to cover it up, but the more Britt talks to distract me, the dizzier I feel.

  Jace gave me the address to the company, and as we near, I bend over at the waist grateful she’s the one driving. “I can do this, I can do this,” I tell myself.

  “Yes, you fucking can,” Britt says sternly and it makes me sit up and nod to myself.

  “You know the song you want to sing, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve known for days. I’m just going to do the same one I was singing at The Hook the night they were there. They liked it, and then I have a second one too. Jace said to have two prepared, and then they may ask me to do more after that.”

  “Did he want to know which songs you chose ahead of time?”

  “Nope, told me not to worry about it, they’d handle whatever I choose.”

  “Perfect, you kicked ass when you sang that song. This is going to be great. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m trying to have your confidence right now, but confession, I’m putting a lot of effort into pushing vomit back down my throat every time it rises up. It’s like mini throw ups over and over.”

  “That’s disgusting, Sailor.”

  “Maybe, yet it’s true.”

  When we pull up to a huge building owned by Black Lamb Records, we have to stop at a security gate. I’m practically hyperventilating at this point and after a quick glance in my direction Britt casually leans over, opens her purse, takes out a paper bag and hands it to me. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. I’d give her a look of disbelief, but I’m too busy reaching for it and placing it over my nose and mouth to do so. Really, it shouldn’t surprise me, the stuff she has inside of that bag of hers is insane. You never know what she’s going to pull out. It’s like Hermione’s purse in Harry Potter - it’s a bottomless hole.

  Britt gives me a pat on my shoulder before she pushes the button to roll down her window to speak to the security guard on duty. “Hi, how can I help you?” a kind man asks, looking at Britt, and then doing a double take when he gets a load of me. I give him a little wave. Nothing to see here, buddy.

  “Hi, there. My name is Brittney Larson and this is Sailor Blue. We’re here to meet with Rick McEntyre and Jace Green. We’re expected.” She’s right. I made sure with Jace that it was okay to bring Britt with me, not that either of us could have stopped her if we had wanted to, but I still wanted to be sure they wouldn’t mind. After he got over the seeming shock that I was actually going to show up, he told me that bringing her was fine.

  The security guard checks his list and nods, indicates where we need to go, then pushes a button that raises the gate so we can drive through. As we begin the drive toward the parking lot, I start to pull myself together. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to see all the fear in my mind. For one moment it’s blazing hot. There’s the fear of rejection, failure, not being good enough, and the sweat inducing worry that I’m being duped – the concern that’s followed me around the last few years. One by one, I imagine myself picking up each feeling and shoving it behind a door in my mind. As each feeling disappears, the tension in my back, neck and shoulders releases. I turn toward a door in my mind that’s so bright and shiny, it almost pulses with life. I open that door and confidence, courage, and a passion to pursue my dreams comes bursting out. With a deep breath, I open my eyes, thankful for the tool I was taught years ago, and nod my head.

  “I can do this,” I say out loud to myself, but this time it sounds much more convincing.

  “Hell yes you can,” Britt says after parking the car. She turns to me and gives me a once over. Looking in my eyes, she must see that I’m okay now. I should have done that trick much sooner, but it’s easy to let fear take over. And when it does, all rational thoughts tend to disappear.

  We exit the car and move down the sidewalk to the front entry. Once we push through the doors, we’re standing in a large lobby. I’m surprised at all
the hustle and bustle – it’s a busy place. We’re greeted by a gentleman behind a desk, “Hello, welcome to Black Lamb Records. How can I help you?”

  “Hi, my name is Sailor Blue, I’m here to meet with Rick McEntyre and Jace Green.”

  “Just go through that corridor there,” he points, “where you’ll find the elevator. Take it all the way to the top floor. When you exit the elevators, go to your left and through the glass doors. There’s another reception desk there and Bethany will let Rick and Jace know you’ve arrived.”

  “Great, thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says cheerfully before picking up the ringing phone on his desk.

  Britt and I look at each other anxiously as we wait for the elevators, no words passing between us. Nerves fly in my belly, but I’m straight up determined now. No turning back. When we’re inside the elevator, Britt reaches over, takes my hand, and squeezes. I squeeze hers back and smile. When the doors open, we drop our hands, step out and turn to the left like instructed making our way past a few closed doors and restrooms before we reach the glass doors.

  Rick’s name and title is etched in the glass on the doors, and when we pull them open, we’re in a large waiting area. As I pass black and white leather couches and chairs, I smile at the woman behind the desk whom I’m assuming is Bethany. Each step I take, my feet sink into plush white carpet. I’m surrounded by black, white, and silver décor. Everything is very modern, looks expensive, and is incredibly shiny. Large silver vases overflowing with flowers sit on the receptionist’s desk and I’m surprised to see abstract art on the walls in various places throughout the room. I guess I expected it to be more rock and roll with framed posters of their signed talent instead.

  “Hi, may I help you?”

  “Yes, please. My name is Sailor-”

  “Oh yes, Sailor, we’re expecting you,” she says before I can get further. “And you must be Brittney?” She asks with a smile while looking at Britt who nods.

  “Great, I’ll let Rick, Jace and the band know you’re here.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  “Please, make yourself comfortable. If you need anything to drink – water or coffee – help yourselves,” she says gesturing to a table that has both of those options before disappearing around a corner. The hallway is all frosted glass and I watch her frame move down the hall before she disappears.

  “I’m going to go use the restroom really quick. I’ll be right back,” Britt says looking at me nervously likely not sure if she should leave me. I smile and nod, and she looks relieved as she smiles in return, “That’s my girl,” she whispers making me laugh and then leaves me alone in the waiting room.

  I strain my ears to see if I can hear music or singing, but I’m met with silence. I’m sure the studio is sound proof, but aside from the soothing music playing from invisible speakers, I don’t hear a peep. Looking around I clear my throat and do a quick vocal exercise, just testing the waters. All is well, but I think keeping hydrated is a good idea, so I get a drink of water. Large urns hold coffee and hot water for tea. Tea bags, sugar packets, stirring sticks, cups and napkins are all available for use. There are also large glass beverage holders with various kinds of water. One has ice water with lemon, another ice water with cucumber, and one more with plain ice water. I’ve never seen so many options for water before. Reaching for one of the black plastic cups, I accidentally knock over a stack and they fall onto the table, then roll onto the floor and fly in various directions. “Shit!”

  Checking the room quickly to make sure I’m still alone and no one saw, I begin picking up the cups, but quickly find that one has rolled under the table further than I can reach. I contemplate leaving it, but then with a sigh crawl on my hands and knees under the table to retrieve the damn thing. Placing them all back in a neat stack, I turn around eager to abandon even the thought of water. I think it’s better if I keep my hands to myself.

  Spinning, I step away from the table and slam right into someone, “Oomph,” I mutter after running into a hard body. Backing up immediately, I begin stuttering, “I’m so sorry,” and find myself looking into the face of none other than Maddox Colt, the lead singer of Graffiti. Holy hell. “Oh my god,” keeps running through my mind over and over again as I stare at him. Thank the sweet baby Jesus in a manger that I’m not saying it out loud.

  Maddox is holding a phone to his ear and is looking at me in clear annoyance. With a sigh he says into his phone, “Hang on.” Lowering his phone, he looks at me and says, “I can’t remember what your name is…. Barbara? Becky? Whatever, that’s not important,” he snaps his fingers, “Get me a glass of water with lemon would you?”

  I don’t know why, but instead of telling him to get the damn water himself, I’m staring at him. I think it’s one part awe and one part disbelief. Then, I look from him to the table behind me. The water is right there. And he needs me to get it for him? “Oh, no…I’m not-” I begin to tell him who I am, but I’m interrupted by his fingers snapping. Again.

  “Hello? Did you hear me? Can you please, get me a water,” he says slowly emphasizing each word as if I’m dumb and didn’t hear him the first time.

  Who the hell does this asshole think he is? I deliberately look from him, to the table that is only steps away, and back again. He simply ignores me. Oh, I’ll get him water all right. “Sure, coming right up,” I tell him with a smile. A smile that if he knew me at all, he’d know is derived from anything but kindness.

  He puts the phone back to his ear, “Sorry, about that. Christ,” he curses, “My head is killing me. If I have to listen to one more of these auditions I’m going to hang myself,” he says to whoever is on the other end of the phone making my jaw drop. “Yeah the whole thing is fucking stupid. God yes. That sounds great. I’ll definitely take you up on that offer. I’ll see you at my place. I can use the stress reliever.” He laughs huskily, says something else and then hangs up the phone. Turning to me, he sees the glass I’m holding in my hand and holds his hand out to me expectantly. “Seriously, Bambi, why the hell is it so hard to get a water?”

  Three things happen at the same time. Britt walks back into the room from the bathroom and sees me standing there. She only sees Maddox’s back, but she sees the look on my face and her eyes widen immediately. Bethany walks back into the room with Jace close behind her. Jace’s eyes meet mine and he begins to smile at the exact moment that I take my glass of water and throw it into Maddox’s face. “There’s your water, asshole.”

  He sputters and spits, shock all over his face. I shove the glass into his chest so he has no choice but to reach out and take it. Britt runs to my side immediately, “Oh my god,” she says her eyes wide as saucers. When she glances at him, she does a double take, realizing who it is and once more says, “Oh my god.”

  Looking at Jace, I worry I’ll find horror in his eyes and that he’ll kick me out immediately for being rude to Maddox, but when laughter rings out, I’m startled to find that it’s his. He pushes Maddox aside and walks up to me, “Sailor. I see you’ve already met Maddox.”

  “Uh, sorry? He snapped and cursed at me, called me Bambi and told me to get him a glass of water.” I look at Britt, “And by snapped I mean he literally snapped his fingers at me.” I tell her as if this is enough of an explanation, but emphasize my point by now snapping my fingers in his face. His eyes blink rapidly in surprise. “Yeah, how do you like it asshole?”

  Britt, God bless her, nods and slings her arm through mine, “Understood,” she says as she gives Maddox a look that could kill.

  “What the actual fuck?” Maddox says behind Jace, but no one pays him any attention.

  “If I know anything at all it’s that he deserved what he got, so please, no apology necessary. Come on - follow me. I’m glad you made it.” He stops after a step, “Oh, Bethany, looks like Maddox needs a towel, do you mind?”

  She’s wearing a shocked look on her face, but I detect a note of pride in her eyes. My guess is she’s d
ealt with Maddox’s attitude herself. Poor girl. “No, not at all,” she says and hurries to do what he asks. I sneak a quick look at Maddox and find that he’s looking from me to Bethany, realization at his error evident. Walking past him, I follow Jace with Britt at my side. When we are in the hallway, Britt whispers in my ear, “He’s an ass. Too bad because he’s hot as hell.”

  When Jace turns to me with humor in his eyes, I can’t help but smile. “I’m so glad you’re here, Sailor. I’m excited for you to meet the rest of the guys. Are you ready for this?” he asks me with eagerness and kindness in his tone and on his face.

  Nodding, I answer, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  With a nod, we continue our pace until we reach the end of the hallway where he opens yet another set of frosted glass doors and holds them open for Britt and me to walk through. Nerves jet like missile projectiles in my belly and I nervously glance at Britt. “You’ve got this,” she whispers to me and I nod. It’s funny, instead of feeling dread because of what just happened with Maddox, it makes me feel empowered. Ignoring the looming presence that’s suddenly appeared at my back, I smile as I enter the room. I’m ready to meet the rest of the band, and show them why I’m the girl they’re going to want.

  Wiping off my face and clothes as I move down the hall, I vow to kill Jace later. The guys and I have been up to Rick’s office a total of one time, and that was some time ago when we signed our contracts, so I can’t be blamed for not remembering what his secretary looks like. Or her name. I can’t believe Jace laughed at this shit. When, whatever the hell he said her name is, threw her glass of water at me, yeah I was pissed, but there’s another part of me that’s turned on.

  It’s been a long day already. We’ve heard five other singers, and after the last one I needed to get out of that room for a few minutes, so I went to take a piss. I just needed a damn minute to myself. The singers so far haven’t been bad by any means, they’ve been great actually, but they just haven’t felt right. The whole thing is a fucking joke and frustrating as hell. I decided to call my masseuse to set up a massage tomorrow because I’m sure as hell going to need it.