Face the Music

by Marianne Levy

  ‘Because if there is . . . ?’

  ‘There is not.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Jaz.

  ‘I am sure.’

  ‘Really sure?’

  And then, I knew it was crazy and I knew I shouldn’t, but I had to tell someone . . . because it was too difficult to keep it all secret, like I was a glass, and someone was pouring water into me, more and more and more until I was overflowing. Jaz had probably figured it out by now anyway with her weirdo psychic Jaz skills. Plus, saying it out loud just felt right.

  ‘. . . and they began to play and I realized I’d heard them loads of times, but I’d never really heard them. And then I did and it was amazing! Like nothing I’ve ever felt before, Jaz. It was mind-blowing. My mind was blown. Is blown! It was like . . . like religion, or something! They are so incredibly talented! Like, a zillion times more than anyone else in the world who’s ever lived! The stuff they can do . . . The sound they make . . . And Kurt, he’s kind and he’s funny and he’s so, so sweet. You know, he didn’t have to forgive me for hating on him, it really upset him, but he did because he’s ace. And as far as the rest of the world is concerned I can’t stand Karamel, when in fact I can’t seem to stop obsessing about them. Oh, Jaz, what am I going to do?’

  ‘Yeah, I was not expecting that,’ said Jaz.

  When I got home, Dad was in the kitchen, riffling through a heap of takeaway menus.

  ‘Katie, what would you like for dinner tonight?’

  ‘Er. It’s just, we’re kind of waiting for the big announcement. About the whole chart thing. So I’m a bit . . .’

  ‘Food’s on me! Anything you fancy?’

  I was feeling more sick than hungry, so I just said, ‘Chinese please. Proper takeaway, not an Asda box.’

  ‘Done! Where’s your mother?’

  ‘Here,’ said Mum, taking off her jacket. ‘I’ve just had a text from Ade, he’s stuck in traffic, he’ll be back in a mo, and . . . will you please get off me, Benjamin.’

  ‘Zoe, don’t say I never spend money on you!’ He had his hand on her waist. ‘What would you like, my princess? Anything at all.’

  Mum’s eyes said she’d like for Dad to go away, but she said:

  ‘Chinese takeaway is fine.’

  ‘Chinese takeaway it is!’ He spun her in a little circle. Or at least, he tried to. Mum wasn’t really having it, so he got her halfway round and then bashed her into the oven. ‘Sorry, Zo.’

  A big sigh.

  ‘And look,’ he said. ‘This is . . . important. It’s meant a lot, you giving me a place to stay. Really, it has.’

  Mum mumbled something that might have been, ‘S’OK.’

  ‘And I know we’re family and you’d always do it for me . . .’

  Another sigh.

  ‘But still. I appreciate it, my darling. Now, will you take this and go buy yourself something nice?’

  And – whoah – he handed her this MASSIVE lump of cash.

  Mum was as shocked as I was. So shocked, in fact, that at first she didn’t say anything, but just made fish faces. Then, finally, ‘Benj. This is . . . too much.’

  He dipped his head. ‘I owe you.’

  ‘Well, yes, you probably do, in fact, you definitely do, but this, this is –’ she thumbed through it – ‘thousands.’

  ‘A couple of thousand. Don’t spend it all at once! Or, do! Take yourself into town, dress up nice for a change. Talking of which . . .’ He leaned down behind the table, and lifted up this vast cardboard box. ‘Here, Katie. For you.’

  ‘Right.’ Then, as I clocked what was written on the box – which was the word ‘Gibson’: ‘Seriously? Like, seriously?’

  ‘Open it!’ said Dad, with that expression I recognized from Christmas Day.

  I tore into the box. And there, nestled down among a load of bits of polystyrene . . . was quite literally the most beautiful guitar I’d ever seen.

  ‘Oh my God, Dad. Oh my God.’

  ‘You like?’

  I threw my arms around him.

  ‘I love it. And I love you.’

  ‘I got something for your sister too.’ He hesitated, then took a little box out of his pocket. A little box in Tiffany blue. Blimey. He really had gone shopping. ‘Do you think you could give it to her for me?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, and then, when Mum pushed off to the loo, I caught his arm. ‘Hey, I’m so glad you talked to Catriona.’

  ‘I . . . uh . . . no problem. Anything for my little superstar.’

  ‘I’m not a superstar yet.’

  ‘You’re going to be number one,’ said Dad. ‘I just know it.’

  ‘I’d be happy with top twenty,’ I said.

  ‘Number one,’ said Dad. ‘Come on, Katie. Dare to dream! And, let’s get this Chinese ordered, shall we? Always takes longer than they say, and I’m starving.’

  I’d just opened the menu and was trying to decide whether Dad’s newfound generosity would stretch to beef in black-bean sauce and chicken-and-prawn chow mein, when the front door slammed in that heavy way that meant it was—

  ‘Ade,’ said Mum.

  ‘Haveyouheardanynewspleasetellme,’ I said.

  ‘Let the man take off his jacket,’ said Mum.

  Which I did, and it took about a hundred years.

  ‘They beat me, didn’t they? Tell me that it was close, at least.’

  ‘Chillax,’ said Adrian, despite some very specific instructions from me never to use that word. ‘It’s not out yet. Tony’s going to text me. But, look, whatever happens now, I want you to know how proud I am. How proud we all are.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ I said. Then, because that sounded a bit ungrateful, ‘And thank you. For supporting me. I know I’ve made things difficult recently. And, you know, not recently. But anyway. Thank you.’

  ‘You’ve been standing up for what you believe,’ said Adrian. ‘Of course it’s difficult. But it’s worth doing.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘Any minute now.’

  Mum took my hand.

  Dad took my other hand.

  Ding!

  Adrian picked up the phone, his forehead creasing.

  ‘Well? WELL? Tell me! Actually, don’t tell me. I can’t bear it. No, do tell me. Tell me!’

  ‘Katie,’ said Adrian. ‘Karamel’s single debuted at number two.’

  ‘AND?’

  ‘And yours is at number seventy-eight.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘It’s exactly what I was expecting. It’s completely fine.’

  Three concerned faces stared across the table at me, like a load of sad owls.

  ‘I mean, come on!’ I told them. ‘They’re a massively successful boy band with squillions of fans. I’m just me. There was no way I was ever going to even come close to winning this.’

  Mum went to squeeze my shoulder, and then saw my face and thought better of it.

  ‘You don’t need to feel sorry for me.’

  ‘Love,’ said Mum. ‘This industry, I don’t want to see you hurt . . .’

  ‘I’m not hurt,’ I said. ‘I am annoyed. But I always knew this would happen. Can we please not talk about it any more.’

  ‘Well . . .’ Mum began.

  ‘I mean it,’ I said. After all, how could she even begin to understand? She didn’t get it, she couldn’t get it. Not her, and not Adrian. In fact, there was only one person who could.

  ‘Dad. I –’

  He looked away. ‘I’ll go pick up that Chinese, shall I? Won’t be a tick, it’s, what, ten minutes’ walk? Not paying the delivery charge if I don’t have to.’

  ‘OK. But maybe don’t get anything for me. Turns out I’m not hungry!’

  I walked, very slowly, up to my room.

  Then I sat down at my desk and burst into tears.

  There’s a reason that people in films generally cry while face down on a bed, or sliding off the back of a door.

  You don’t see them crying on to a desk, and that’s because, as I quic
kly discovered, crying directly on to a desk is incredibly uncomfortable. Plus, when I finally sat up, I found that I’d been leaning on a red felt-tip pen and it looked like my cheek had been burned.

  The best music had won.

  I’d known it when Lace and I had listened to my song, on the dining room steps. Heck, I’d known it the second Kurt had opened his mouth at the Karamel concert.

  What should I do now?

  What could I do now?

  I could tell the world that I’d changed my mind. No, not changed my mind, more that when I’d written ‘Can’t Stand the Boy Band’ I hadn’t known what I was talking about.

  That was Old Katie. New Katie had seen Karamel play. She was converted. New Katie loved Karamel.

  Then, I’d shake their hands, if they’d let me, and . . .

  Ding!

  Just heard. Coming over

  Lacey. My best, best, best friend. She’d stick with me. She’d understand that everyone makes mistakes.

  Ding!

  Just heard am coming over

  So loyal that she’d sent the same text twice!

  Plus, it would be good to come clean with Lace. Once she’d forgiven me, it would make our friendship even stronger.

  That’s the thing about me and Lace. We’ve had our ups and downs, for sure, and the downs have been quite bad. But it’s what makes the rest of the time together so great. Like, for example, when we had that monster argument over who copied whose Julius Caesar essay. Now we’re over it, we’re better mates than ever. Even though, come to think of it, she never did admit that she’d nabbed her introduction from me, and to be honest it’s still a tiny bit annoying.

  BANG BANG BANG!

  Lacey was thumping on the front door. I scampered down the stairs and opened it, arms wide for a full-on hug, and:

  ‘Hi,’ said Jaz.

  ‘What? What are you doing here?’

  ‘I texted,’ said Jaz.

  ‘No,’ I told her. ‘Lacey texted. Lacey is on her way over.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Lacey, coming up the drive. ‘What? Why so surprised? Did you not get my message? And what’s she doing here?’

  ‘Supporting Katie,’ said Jaz.

  ‘I’m supporting Katie,’ said Lacey. ‘Urgh! What happened to your cheek? Is that a burn?!’

  Unscheduled gatherings are normally a complete no-no. I thought Mum would probably cut me some slack, given current events, but I still made sure to get everyone upstairs and into my bedroom as speedily as possible.

  ‘It’s just disgusting,’ said Lacey, as I closed the door behind her. ‘They can’t be content with winning. They have to crush you. How dare they? How actually dare they?’

  ‘It’s not their fault,’ I said. ‘They have a massive fan base and they’re really g– . . . some people think they are really good.’

  ‘You should have won,’ said Lacey.

  ‘Nah,’ I said.

  ‘You’re so real and true and they’re just this manufactured . . .’

  ‘It is a bit unfair,’ I said. ‘I mean, talk about David and Goliath.’

  ‘Are David and Goliath in Karamel?’ said Jaz. ‘I thought they all began with a K.’

  ‘You know nothing,’ said Lacey.

  Jaz didn’t flinch. ‘I know more than you think,’ she said.

  Lacey gave her a superior smile. ‘Hey, look, Jaz, it’s great that you’re here, but me and Katie, we’re best mates and we have some stuff we need to talk about.’

  Jaz picked up my liquid eyeliner and gazed down at the bottle. ‘Oh, so now you’re here for her, are you?’

  ‘Yes. I am.’

  ‘Now that you can pity her?’

  This is why it’s important to keep friends as separate as possible. Ideally on different continents. Mind you, the way Lacey was looking at Jaz at that moment, even continents wouldn’t have been enough to stop World War III starting. Different planets?

  ‘You are poison, you know that, Jaz?’

  ‘Lacey . . .’ I began.

  ‘Fine,’ said Lacey. ‘But she is.’

  I have to say that Jaz wasn’t at all bothered by Lacey’s accusations. She just sat there, using my liquid eyeliner to give my Amy Winehouse poster a moustache.

  ‘They just made an announcement,’ said Lacey, reading from her phone. ‘“Peace and love to all our fans who bought the single, and to all who bought Katie Cox’s song. The music lives forever. Xo”. That is rude!’

  ‘Um, yeah. So rude.’

  Lacey lay back on my bed and twiddled her hair. ‘You know what? I think I’m starting to get why you’re so annoyed by them.’

  This was it. The moment to come clean. ‘Lacey?’

  ‘Yes?’

  I must have said it in a fairly significant-sounding way because she sat up and let her hair drop.

  The words were all ready, lined up in neat rows inside my mouth, like a little wordy army, poised to fight for the truth.

  And they did come out. But not from me.

  ‘Katie has something to tell you,’ said Jaz.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘What?’ said Lacey.

  ‘I’m surprised she hasn’t said it already. Given that you’re “best mates”.’

  ‘I’m sure she did tell me,’ said Lacey. ‘Katie tells me everything.’

  ‘Did she tell you that she’s in love with Karamel?’ said Jaz.

  ‘WHAT?’ said Lacey.

  Which is when I knew I couldn’t say it.

  Not here.

  Not now.

  ‘Of course I’m not in love with Karamel. Jaz, you are being mad. Where would you even get that from?’

  Jaz’s face hardened. And it was pretty hard already. ‘Cool. I’ll just let you get on with it, then.’

  ‘Get on with what?’

  ‘Living your lie.’

  ‘I’m not living a lie.’

  ‘Go away, Jaz,’ said Lacey. ‘Get back to wherever it is you came from and leave me and my BFF alone.’

  Jaz’s head swivelled from me to Lacey and back again and she blinked a couple of times, but she didn’t seem even slightly fazed. That’s the thing about Jaz. You can’t hurt her. She’s made of whatever they use to line saucepans.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ she said.

  ‘Good,’ said Lacey.

  ‘No, stay,’ I said, weakly. ‘Unless it’s important. Or, you know, not important.’

  And then she’d gone.

  ‘Where does she get that rubbish?’ said Lacey.

  ‘I know,’ I said, hating myself, and Jaz, and myself all over again.

  ‘So?’ said Lacey. ‘What are you going to say to them? You can’t let this stand.’

  I opened my laptop, and thought for a second. Lacey was watching the screen as I typed:

  To all the fans who bought my single, THANK YOU. Karamel – u guys still suck. And yr army of zombies doesn’t change anything. Rock & roll K x

  I hit return. ‘Right. Done. It’s all finished.’

  ‘Finished?’ said Lacey, the colour rising in her cheeks, like when Mum has that cocktail involving cranberry and orange juice. ‘This is just the beginning.’

  ‘Of what?’ I said.

  ‘Your comeback.’

  ‘Oh. Because I was kind of thinking I might shut up for a bit.’

  The flush was now all the way to the top of Lacey’s face. ‘It’s not like nobody bought the single. You’re at seventy-eight!’

  ‘Which is rubbish.’

  ‘It is not rubbish. It’s really good and you are only going to get better. You are going to build on your fan base and you are going to write more great songs. I believe in you, Katie.’

  ‘That’s great, Lace,’ I said. ‘But, honestly, I’m not sure that I do.’

  There was a weird sound, like a cat mewing, and for a second I thought maybe the mice had learned a new skill, only then I realized it was Lacey’s phone.

  ‘New ringtone,’ said Lacey, bouncing to her feet. ‘Sofie did it for me. Do you
want it for yours?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Mum’s outside in the car,’ said Lacey. ‘Gotta go, K.’

  ‘Thanks for coming.’

  ‘I’m so glad I did,’ said Lacey. ‘Remember: you are—’

  ‘Don’t say it!’

  ‘And you’ll always be—’

  ‘Please . . .’

  ‘My number one,’ said Lacey.

  ‘Ugh, you are so cheesy,’ I said. ‘Get out.’

  She got out.

  I was on my own.

  The bedroom felt incredibly empty. Like there were too many spaces between the molecules of air. Spaces that, under any normal circumstance, I would have filled with music.

  Something like . . . I scrolled through my playlists . . . Amy? Nah, too dark. Mraz? Too light.

  What I needed was . . .

  No.

  No . . .

  Yes.

  A quick few taps and there they were, three boys beaming from my screen, the notes flowing through my headphones and lifting me up and away from all the weirdness, on to a golden cloud where everything was still OK.

  Lacey was completely right. It had all been a bit humiliating, but I’d come through just fine. Number seventy-eight wasn’t nothing. People still basically liked me. Lacey still liked me.

  Thank goodness I hadn’t told her the truth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jaz wasn’t on the bus come Monday morning. I’d got so used to her presence on the back seat that to see it empty was a bit of a shock. A couple of the year sevens had a quick go at plunking their bums into her place, then bounced back up again, as though she was somehow watching and might swoop in and destroy them.

  She really wasn’t there, though. I had to remind myself that, historically, Jaz had always had a pretty relaxed attitude to things like attendance and learning. Her absence didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  I suppose I was particularly sensitive to things because everyone was being a bit odd. Towards me.

  It started with a year seven girl bashing me with her bag as we got on to the bus, in a way that could have been an accident but clearly wasn’t. After that, no one said anything to me at all. Fin didn’t even bother trying to shake his finished crisp packet over my head. I suppose I should have been grateful.

  Only, coming off my weird weekend, I suppose I was just feeling a bit uneasy. Mum and Adrian were being so relentlessly positive that I could barely look at them. Dad, meanwhile, jumped out of his seat every time I came into the room, like he was waiting for me to combust or melt down, and Amanda, well, I’d barely seen her. I was quite looking forward to getting to school, which is saying something.