“He seemed completely unfazed by the photographs,” I stated, shocked.
“Don’t even sweat it,” Faith murmured as her intern tried to wave her back to her own pedestal. “Those of us smart enough to listen to one another’s auditions know you don’t need to sleep with anyone to win this thing. You good here without me?”
“I think I can handle them by myself now,” I told her. “But the backup was sure appreciated.”
When she returned to her own area, I noticed Michael staring at me. “You’re going to survive this industry. I worried when I first met you, but if you can deal with this drama, you’ll be able to deal with the rest.”
“Don’t get too excited. It might be my last show this week.” I reminded him. “Then I’ll just go back to being a nobody.”
“Girl, you’re not stupid. I’m not wasting any breath on discussing whether or not you’ll be chosen to go on to the finale. We have better things to talk about, like chiffon, leather, and rhinestones.” Michael laughed.
Before I could ask if that would be all on one dress, Connor Graves strutted into the room like he was ready for his close-up, whistling through his teeth. Michael draped a robe over my shoulders, and I sighed in relief.
“Mr. Graves, why do I have the pleasure of your presence at this time?” Michael asked with an eyebrow lifted. “I do believe the producers stated that you refuse to work with me and only employ your own stylist because you described my talents as ‘mainstream mediocre’?”
“I’m here to interview the contestants, Michael. Let’s not get our panties in a twist over our different roles here,” Connor replied, rolling his eyes.
“You plan on filming the contestants in their undergarments?” Michael chuckled. “I highly doubt the studio plans to change their television time slot to make that appropriate viewing for families.”
“I received an email, so here I am. Talk to the brass if you’re uncomfortable with your artistic process being documented.”
“And where are your cameramen, then? Surely you won’t be doing this on your cell phone?” Michael asked, looking over Connor’s shoulder.
“They aren’t already here?” Connor looked up and down the fitting room in shock. “Well, undoubtedly they’ll be here any minute.”
“Feel free to wait to the side until they arrive, then, but I have work to do.”
As soon as Michael turned his back and all the other assistants resumed their jobs, Connor huffed, tapped his foot, and stated, “This is ridiculous,” then stormed out of the room.
Michael returned to me with a big smile on his face. “Now that the blond troll is gone, where were we?”
“You were about to tell me if you planned to put me in a version of Jax’s leather pants again,” I teased.
“You know, stealing Jax’s ensemble for the duet wasn’t my idea. That stroke of genius came from above, but I supported it because you looked phenomenal. But we’re going back to basic b*tch for the elimination. Then my plan is to blow everyone away for your final song and then let the lights shine for your grand finale number,” Michael told me with glee.
“Okay, then. Show me, what does a basic b*tch wear?”
I could hear the audience cheering and stomping for the next contestant to grace the stage and find out if they were going home. With each vibration from the crowd, the pink frills of my dress fluttered around me. I tried not to grind my teeth.
“You look like you belong on top of a cake,” Faith told me, giggling as she stood behind me in a silver sequined jumpsuit and black leather jacket. “Or maybe attending your first prom.”
“Michael told me it’ll look good under the lights,” I attempted to say without annoyance coating each word. “And at least I don’t look like I’m about to break into disco dancing.”
“You wish you could wear this.” She laughed.
I didn’t bother replying because she wasn’t wrong. I decided once this competition was over, I needed to learn how to stand up to my fun, passionate stylists. Even if they were so excited about their vision and I felt bad over the things idiot hosts called their talent that I forgot that I was the one who had to wear their choices in front of strangers.
I was now stuck in a pink ruffled strapless cocktail dress monstrosity for the next four hours. It was also really itchy. I kept wanting to run my fingers over my skin everywhere the fabric rubbed against my body. I had been wearing the outfit for over two hours already, and it seemed to only be getting worse. At least they had slicked back my hair in a straight ponytail. I hoped that at least the dramatic hairstyle change would have everyone focusing on my hair rather than this crazy pink cloud.
When Connor Graves approached me in his designer blue suit to lead me to the stage with a camera crew closely following, I put on my biggest smile and acted like I was completely comfortable and ready to hear what the nation had decided for my future. Ryne remained on the side of the stage, having already been informed that he was moving on to the semifinal. But Wade, Katie, and Whitney had been told their journey was over. Only two spots remained, and there were three of us left.
“Now, Billie Bishop, are you ready to find out if you’ve made it into the final three of Superstardom?” Connor asked joyfully as he ran a hand through his hair and smiled at the camera. It was his signature pose and almost a cue to smile at the camera too.
“I’m ready,” I replied, exhaling my fear.
He nodded and led me out from behind the curtain. I tried to forget how hopeful the eliminated contestants looked as they entered the stage and how quickly the tears welled up in their eyes when they were asked to leave. Connor then stared down the camera and, without wavering, said, “Whitney and Katie have both been very emotional finding out that the nation has chosen not to vote them into the semifinal. If you don’t make it, do you think you’ll be as upset?”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. With the extra security and the tension from my fellow contestants, I truly didn’t know if the end of this competition would have me in tears or sighing in relief.
When we reached the center of the stage, I stared at the judges. Claudia was wearing a short violet wig that emphasized her green eyes. Russell had on a denim jacket and beanie, appearing completely at home in the studio. Jax was in his signature rock star outfit, struggling to stop watching the exits and looking through the audience for any possible danger. When he heard everyone screaming my name, he caught himself and looked directly at me with a smile on his face. It was an “I’ve seen you wearing my T-shirt” smile. F*ck. If people hadn’t been paying attention to the news reports on our relationship, that smile gave us away. I also suddenly knew that I would be upset if this was the end.
He kept smiling at me, and I nervously shifted in my spot and felt my dress rub against my skin again. The shooting pain reminded me of how much I hated my outfit and how I needed to pray that this ended quickly. It was causing a throbbing in my ears.
I was concentrating so hard on not scratching that I missed Claudia’s statement on my last performance and Russell’s joke. I just nodded, smiled, and laughed, hoping I didn’t look silly.
When Connor asked me a question and waited for my response, I knew nodding wouldn’t be good enough.
“I’m so sorry, what was the question?” I nervously asked.
He repeated something, but it was as if he was standing in a long corridor. I took a guess that it was about my journey in the competition like he had asked all the other contestants. “I’m just so grateful to have made it this far, and if I make it through or go home, I know I’ve done my best.”
It seemed to work, as the crowd cheered and Connor moved on to open the envelope that would announce whether I was staying or going home. I stood as motionless as possible, but it felt as if the itching had amplified under the lights and now everywhere the dress touched me was burning.
When the crowd exploded and the three judges stood and clapped, I knew I was in the semifinals. I grinned and with shaking limbs
walked over to join Ryne.
The moment the cameras left me and went to seek out Faith and Joshua, I turned to Ryne. “I’m so sorry for this.”
“Sorry for what?” he asked, still smiling for the cameras and giving me a sidelong glance.
And with that, I stopped trying to handle the pain and let go.
Everything went black.
I don’t want to start ignoring you
Jax
“How did this happen?” I growled at the doctor. We were standing outside Billie’s hospital room, and I was struggling not to punch somebody. The white walls, the smell of antiseptic, and the hushed whispers of nurses were driving me crazy. “I watched. Before she fainted into another contestant’s arms, no one even touched her.”
“It was poison ivy,” the doctor informed us. “Traces of the oil were found all over the dress you brought her in.”
“Why did she pass out?” Donny questioned. “Poison ivy usually just causes rashes, doesn’t it? Wait, will there be scarring? It won’t extend to her face, will it?”
“No, there will be no damage to her face,” the doctor replied, clearly confused by Donny’s onslaught of questions. “There were rashes where the dress touched her body. They’ll take approximately three weeks to go down, but they shouldn’t spread without further contamination. She had some swelling of her abdomen, which I believe is the reason behind her fainting.”
“She needs to be on stage in a week. Will this be a problem?” Donny continued, obviously focused on the impact Billie being sick would have on the show.
“Shut up, Don,” I groaned. “Just tell us what needs to be done to make her feel better.”
“Movement might be difficult. I wouldn’t recommend large dance numbers in her future. However, there are a few over-the-counter creams she can use, like calamine lotion, to alleviate the rashes, and there are oral antihistamines she can take to sleep better.”
“We can do that, sure,” Donny muttered. “Jax, you find out about the creams, and I’ll call the studio executives to let them know she’s fine.”
“No doubt her trying to pretend everything was all right and she wasn’t having an allergic reaction also increased the amount of pain she was in. However, no need to fear. She won’t have any long-term side effects. The rashes will go down. It was likely it was contaminated when she first tried it on. Most reactions like hers are following a second exposure. She’s lucky really that she didn’t experience any swelling of her vocal cords,” the doctor explained.
“Lucky,” I repeated, rolling my eyes. “I’ll let her know.”
Before I went back inside Billie’s room, I turned to Donny, who was already pressing his cell phone to his ear. “After you’ve called all the producers, I want you to check in with your Marine team and everyone who’s been near that damn dress. First the notes and now this. Whoever is after Billie is escalating, and it’s not looking good, Don. I want a list of who could have done this. And I wanted that list yesterday.”
He nodded and turned back to his phone.
Billie was sitting up in her hospital bed when I walked back in, her arms crossed and her eyes shooting daggers at me.
“All y’all having a conversation about my health without me would be very aggravating if I couldn’t hear you through the damn door,” she snapped. “I’m not an invalid. I just fainted, and I might have liked to ask the doctor questions myself.”
I winced. “I thought you might like some rest. If you want, I can go get him back to explain anything you didn’t overhear.”
“Lucky for you, I overheard everything. Poison ivy with rashes all over my body where that disgusting dress touched me. It’s almost embarrassing. I can’t believe they even told someone who isn’t my family what’s wrong with me. Isn’t that illegal?”
“Donny can be very persuasive when he wants to be, and the doctor had seen our photos together.”
“Oh, so patient confidentiality doesn’t apply to superstars?” She rolled her eyes.
“Exactly.” I grinned. “Plus, it was a miracle that we got out of the studio without the press hearing. You were a true professional, fainting off camera. The whole show just made it out like you went to the bathroom, and we were able to put you in Donny’s car and rush you to the emergency room. If we called your mom and had to wait for her to arrive at the airport, the press would have been all over us. You want Donny and me to know you have poison ivy rashes or the whole world?”
Billie laughed. “I guess you’ve got a good point there. So what’s the plan for the next few rehearsals and interviews if I can’t dance?”
“You have the week off,” I said sternly. “You rest and worry about the competition when you feel better.”
“I can’t have the whole week off, Jax. We have press interviews and rehearsals. The semifinal and finale have the most grueling schedule. I’ve seen it. I know they’ve sped up the production, but I can’t imagine they’re canceling those big talk show interviews. I’m in the top three of a nationally televised show. I won’t be throwing that away over some poison ivy.”
“Look, you’re still in the competition. You’ll perform and record a song for the semifinal, but the girls who were eliminated will take your place during the press tours and send you video of the rehearsals,” I explained. “It’ll give your body a chance to recover, and Linda and the production managers have already agreed. They’ve done similar things in the past when contestants have fallen ill.”
“Jax, I really don’t want special treatment. I want to go on the press tours. People are already questioning my position in the competition because of our relationship and the photos in the media. I don’t want to give people extra responsibilities because I can’t meet them and give them more fuel for their fire,” Billie groaned.
“It isn’t like Katie and Whitney won’t be thrilled to do the interviews for you. It’s additional publicity for them as well,” I reminded her as I moved closer to her hospital bed and sat in the visitor’s chair.
Billie stared at me with concern. “But they might talk about you negatively. They might blame you and our relationship for them not making it to the semifinal. They already said a few words to me during our costume fittings; who’s to say they won’t say it on nationally broadcast talk shows? Jax, this show was meant to make you look good for your record label. I don’t want to be the reason you lose that.”
“You won’t. I’m ready for whatever they want to say about me, and Donny and my record label actually love the publicity about us. The more people want to talk about our relationship, the more money it’ll make them in the long run.”
“They like it? You dating a contestant?” Billie asked, shocked.
“Look, if we weren’t basically the same age and if the public weren’t the ones who keep selecting the winners, I think I would probably be in a lot of trouble. But my record label has given me a better deal thanks to the photos of us. They think the audition tape caught us falling in love and will mean great love songs in the future,” I confessed, raking a hand through my hair.
“So if little old ladies take photos of us in public, you’re going to make more money? I’m the only one risking her integrity and her career by spending time with you? Is that why you’ve wanted me around all along, because my audition tape made us look like we were in love?” she asked with hurt in her eyes.
“No, of course not. I wanted you around before I even knew they liked the tape. I care about you,” I admitted as I reached for her hand in the hospital bed. “Billie Bishop, just watching you fall down on that stage scared the sh*t out of me. It also made me admit how much I don’t want to be just your friend.”
“Jax.” Billie exhaled and squeezed my hand. “We haven’t known each other for very long. This is ridiculous. You can’t be telling me you think you might be in love with me after a handful of times together and also tell me you might make more money from being seen with me. I don’t know how to deal with all that information. We haven’t even made love
yet. And in case you haven’t figured it out, I’ve never made love with anyone. I could be bad. I could be really, really bad.” Her voice rose with each declaration.
“I don’t want to laugh at you right now,” I told her, grinning. “You’re in the hospital, and it’s been a stressful twenty-four hours. But I am going to tell you that there is no way us sleeping together would be bad.” I stared at her solemnly and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m also not going to lie that knowing I’ll be your first, if you choose to sleep with me, makes the whole idea even better.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“I want to be honest. There’s too much going on for us to be lying to each other as well. You needed to know that our spending time together won’t damage my career. And, if you’re regretting spending time with me because of everything that’s going on, I want you to share that sh*t with me, because I’m starting to have feelings.”
Billie stared at me and then stated, “I risked a lot coming on this show. My mom forgave me, but I still put our relationship in jeopardy to see if I could do this, and I won’t let some stalker keep me from doing what I came to do.” The soon-to-be rock star attitude shone through her piercing blue eyes and strong words.
“And knowing our relationship won’t impact my career like it will yours?” I tested.
“Well, I need to have a career to impact before that’s even an issue. But I don’t want to stop that either. I don’t know what the future holds, but I don’t want to start ignoring you now. I might have a few feelings too,” she said softly, not quite as fierce as before.
“Okay, then we’ll work out a way for you to build that career, and I’ll do everything I can to ensure some crazy stalker or my stupid career doesn’t get in the way.”
“Without interfering with the schedule I have?” she asked cautiously.
“Without interfering,” I agreed before adding, “as long as you’re safe.”
Childish Dreams Page 16
