Chasing The Dream: The Complete Series, page 17
“Not okay?” he asked softly.
“Not really.” I stepped back to let him in, and he checked the hallway to make sure it was empty before he entered. He stood just inside the door—close but not close enough—and every inch of my body strained to throw myself into his arms. I needed him to kiss me and tell me everything would be okay, but he didn’t make a move.
“We talked to Dan. He said the photo was no big deal and that we shouldn’t worry about it.”
“No big deal? Has he seen what people are saying about us?”
“He says this kind of shit always happens and it will blow over soon. He doesn’t think it will hurt our chances on the show.”
“I hope he’s right.”
“Me too…but maybe we should cool it for a while. Stop seeing each other, at least until the show is over. We don’t need any more bad publicity.”
How was I supposed to cool it with Jared when I saw him every single day? He was the guy I thought about when I couldn’t sleep, whose touch set my nerves on fire, whose voice haunted my every step. The guy who always believed in me and made me want to reach for more. I didn’t want to give him up. And maybe the article had struck a nerve or something because for the last hour all I’d been able to think about was my father and what he’d done to my mother and how I refused to become her. I didn’t want to be Jared’s secret anymore.
“Can’t we just tell everyone the truth?” I asked. Yes, the producers didn’t want us to be together, but it wasn’t up to them who won the show. People liked our music, and some of the viewers might even be happy we were together.
“You already saw what they’re saying online about us after one innocent photo. If we admit that we’ve been lying and sneaking around, the backlash could be huge. Not to mention, the guys will completely lose their shit, and you know what Dan says about cohesion and all that.” He shook his head, his face pained. “We’re so close to the finals and the spot on the tour. We can’t afford to mess things up now. If nothing else, we owe it to the other guys to focus on the band for the next two weeks.”
I wanted him to pull me into his arms and tell me he didn’t care what anyone thought, that he was tired of the lying and sneaking around, that he’d do anything to be with me. But he was right; the truth would only make things worse right now. If we could just get through the rest of the show, win or lose, we might be able to have a real future together when this was all over.
“All right.” I stared out the window at downtown LA sparkling with lights, at the Hollywood sign cresting the hills, at anything other than his pleading eyes and the lips I longed to kiss.
He cleared his throat. “Maybe you should go out with that Sean guy, too.”
“You want me to date someone else?” I’d spent the night in his arms, and now he was pushing me toward some other guy?
“No, of course not.” He drew a ragged breath. “I can’t stand the idea of you with him. I just think it might throw people off, make them less focused on the two of us.”
Maybe or maybe it would just fuel the slut rumors about me. I didn’t want to lead Sean on, but I supposed one dinner couldn’t hurt, as long as I was up front with him about only wanting to be friends. But Jared would have to keep up his reputation, too, and the thought made me sick.
“Fine.” Only two weeks, I reminded myself. I could do anything for two weeks.
“I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.” He hesitated and leaned in a little, like he was about to kiss me. I held still, waiting, wanting, anticipating, but he pulled back and slipped out the door without another word.
I wrapped my arms around myself and went over his words again. No matter what he said, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was more than a temporary split. Suddenly our secret romance seemed a lot less sexy and a lot more like a mistake.
Chapter Nineteen
At the crack of dawn, we went on a national radio show and assured everyone that the photo was just an innocent moment of one friend comforting another. The entire band laughed off the bad headlines, acting like everything was normal, but I didn’t know if anyone would buy it. Especially when the fracture in my heart got wider every time I looked at Jared.
After that we went straight to rehearsals, and I suffered for hours hearing him sing “Bad Romance,” followed by a photo shoot with The Quiet Battles where we pretended to be one big happy family on Team Dan. When I finally collapsed into bed, I was too exhausted to stay up all night missing Jared, though I couldn’t shake his ghost from my sheets.
The next two days were a repeat, with different publicity events and long hours rehearsing and recording both songs while the producers and camera crews watched us like hawks. Being on a break with Jared was easier than I’d expected since we never had a free minute alone together. Hell, if we got a chance to sit down and eat a real meal, we were lucky. Was this how musicians on tour lived? Sprinting from one thing to the next, pushing their bodies to the limits, giving up a normal life for one in the spotlight…. I almost questioned if I really wanted it that bad. Almost.
“We have a problem,” Dan said on Saturday morning when he showed up for rehearsal. “I just talked to Steve, and he said the producers have changed their minds about ‘Bad Romance.’ Now they’re saying you can’t use it after all and have to choose something else.”
“What?” I must have misunderstood him. No way could we have worked on this song for all those hours and now be unable to use it. Not with only two days until the live show. Nope. Not happening. Denied.
Jared gripped his bass so hard his knuckles went white. “But we’ve been practicing it all week. And we’ve already recorded it!”
“Did Steve say why?” Kyle asked. “Is there anything we can do to change the producers’ minds?”
Dan shook his head. “He just said there was a problem, and no one can use that song anymore. It really blows, but they’ve done this before in previous seasons. I’m bummed, too. Your version sounded great.”
“Shit. What are we supposed to do now?” Hector asked.
“How are we going to get another song ready by the live show?” I asked, breathless and jumpy, like the walls were closing around me.
Dan yanked over a chair and put on his reading glasses. “We’ll pick another song right now, and I’ll give you the keys to the studio so you can practice as much as you need. I’ll cancel your interview tomorrow, too, so you can use that time to record the new song. I’m really sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”
He suggested we cover another pop song, something unexpected that we could do a rock version of, but none of us knew what to choose. We were still too excited by our version of “Bad Romance,” too in love with the changes we’d made to think about any other song. With that thought, Carla’s words came back to me about how I was so obsessed with Jared I couldn’t think about another guy, and they sparked an idea. She adored Bruno Mars and I’d learned some of his songs to play for her, and I could definitely relate to one of them right now.
“What about ‘Locked Out of Heaven’ by Bruno Mars?” I suggested. The guitar in it sounded like something by The Police and I demonstrated for them, busting out the twangy chords from the verses and then the faster chorus riffs.
“That’s a good one,” Hector said. “It has almost a punk rock beat to it at times.”
“Perfect,” Dan said. “And the ladies at home will love Jared singing it, too.”
Jared scowled, no doubt thinking of why I’d chosen this song. Maybe it was cruel, but I hoped every time Jared sang it he thought about me and what he was missing. He might have argued for a different song, but Kyle and Hector loved it. Dan got it quickly approved by the producers, and it was decided.
* * *
We worked late into the night and returned early Sunday for another long day, rehearsing in the morning and recording in the afternoon. By the evening, we all wanted to kill each other.
“The vocals in the second verse are still not right,” Jared said, as we listened to the recording for the hundredth time. “I need to redo them.”
“They’re fine,” Kyle said. “We don’t have time to do them over.”
The sound guys were taking a break, and Dan had left an hour ago. I rested my head on the table, too tired to move. When you played the same song nonstop for that many hours, it became like a word you’d repeated too many times: It didn’t make sense anymore. That’s the point we were at.
Jared continued on as if he hadn’t heard his brother. “And the beat in the pre-chorus is off, too.”
“Are you kidding me?” Hector asked. “I’ve recorded it three times already!”
“Well, do it again. We need to get this right.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it!”
Jared played the section again. “Right there! How can you not hear that?”
“Why don’t you go in there and play it then?”
“Maybe I will!”
“Right, because this is the Jared Cross band, and you can do everything!”
“You want to trade places? You think it’s so easy, getting in front of thousands of people and baring your soul on stage? Or answering the same stupid questions over and over again in interviews? Please, be my guest!”
“Guys, stop,” Kyle said, raising his hands between them. “We need to call it a night.”
“Seriously,” I said. “We’ve been here since 7 AM. I can barely see straight, I’m starving, and my hands are killing me.” Not to mention, this was starting to get ugly. Hector and Jared often bickered and then quickly made up, but never quite like this.
Jared rubbed his face, visibly exhausted. “No, the song isn’t done until it’s perfect. You can leave if you want, but I’m staying.”
I had no doubt he would, too. Jared was not only a perfectionist, but he was hardest on himself. If we didn’t stop him, he would work on this all night, and then he’d be a wreck at the live show.
“Jared, please.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “The song sounds great. If we stay any longer, we won’t have any energy to perform tomorrow.”
“She’s right,” Kyle said. “Your voice already sounds like you’ve been swallowing glass. You need to rest more than any of us.”
“One more hour,” Jared said. “Let me tweak a few things, and then I’ll be done.”
“Whatever, I’m out,” Hector said and banged through the door. So much for our band’s “cohesion.”
I sighed, resigning myself to a long night in this cold, stuffy room. “I wonder if there are any more of those sandwiches in the kitchen.”
“I already checked. There aren’t,” Kyle said. “Go get something to eat. I’ll stay with him.”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to abandon them, but Jared had already put his headphones back on and was in the zone again, and there wasn’t much I could do at this point. All my parts were recorded, and I didn’t have the energy to do them over another time. Kyle had studied sound mixing in school, so he was more of a pro at this stuff than me anyway. Besides, Kyle knew how to handle his brother better than anyone.
“All right, but I’m going to check on you both later to make sure you get some rest. Don’t let him burn himself out.”
“I won’t.” Kyle gave me a quick squeeze, and I left. Jared never even looked up.
* * *
Sean ran over to me the instant I walked into the lobby of the hotel. “Maddie!”
“Hey,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Naturally I’d run into him when I hadn’t slept, showered, or eaten anything other than coffee and bagels over the last forty-eight hours.
“I saw that whole thing with the photo. I can’t believe what people said about you. Are you all right?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s just a big misunderstanding.” I hadn’t even had time to think about that drama, not with the new drama of the song change, but his words reminded me I was supposed to go out with him. I wanted nothing more than to pass out in my bed, but eating real food sounded pretty good at this point, too. And maybe Jared was right, and being seen with Sean would dispel some of the rumors about us.
“Hey, do you want to grab that dinner I promised you?” I asked.
“Yeah, totally. Right now?”
“If you’re free,” I said, and he nodded. “But before we go, I want to be up front with you, so this doesn’t get weird. We’re just going out as friends, okay?”
“Of course.” He burst into laughter. “Oh, did you think I was asking you out on a date before?”
“No! I mean, I wasn’t sure, and I think you’re great and all, but with the show and…” This was getting super awkward. Time to shut up.
He grinned. “Hey, I’d totally be interested, but I have a girlfriend back home.”
“Oh, okay. Good.” It was a relief to know I wouldn’t be leading Sean on and that he didn’t expect anything from me other than a friendly dinner.
“Besides, Jared would kill me,” Sean added.
“I doubt that,” I muttered.
“You’re really not together?”
“Nope.” And this time, it felt like the truth when I said it.
We went through the revolving doors and debated the merits of the different restaurants at LA Live, finally settling on a brewery that blasted rock music and had good burgers. Perfect for a casual dinner with a friend, and since it was popular with people from the show, we’d definitely be seen together. A part of me hoped Jared would stumble back from the studio and catch me with Sean, run to my arms and kiss me in front of everyone, and say he didn’t care who knew about us as long as we could be together. Yes, that level of cheese actually ran through my head. What could I say—I was running on four hours of sleep.
Though Jared never showed up to offer declarations of love, I still had a good time with Sean. We laughed about what a bad mentor Angel was, and he told me she’d shown up completely wasted for all her rehearsals this week.
“I have no idea how our song with her is going to go tomorrow,” he admitted.
I whined about how the producers had changed our song at the last minute, but he didn’t seem surprised. He said they’d denied his band from doing “Some Nights” by fun. for the first live show and that he’d heard about bands having other problems, too. Recording times getting switched without notice, interviews getting cancelled at the last minute, photo shoots that just never happened. We were lucky we had Dan keeping on top of these things for us, but it sounded like the other mentors weren’t quite as hands-on.
Sean and I argued over which band on Team Lance would make it to the finals, since it was obvious Fairy Lights would be the last band on Team Lissa. I told him all about how Lacey had stolen my glasses and probably leaked that photo of us, but I wasn’t sure he believed me. She’d been perfectly friendly with him, so maybe it was only me she hated for some reason.
Being with Sean was easy, and there was no need to sneak around or lie to anyone about spending time together. I had zero romantic feelings for him, but it was a relief to talk to someone going through a lot of the same things I was. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to spend time with someone who wasn’t in my band either. I loved the guys like family, but after spending every waking minute with them, I also kind of never wanted to see them again.
After our meal, we walked back toward the hotel but were stopped by a small group of people.
“Oh my god, you’re the guitarist who fell off the stage!” one of them said, and the others chimed in with, “Yeah!” and “Whoa!”
I was taken aback for a second. No one had ever recognized me in public before; it was always Jared who got mobbed by fans. Would they call me a klutz? A slut, especially since I was with Sean? Or one of the other horrible things people were saying on the Internet?
“You’re so cool,” the first girl said. “I freaking love Villain Complex.”
“Me too,” the guy with them said. “Your band is killer.”
“Can we get a photo with you?” a third girl asked.
“Um, yeah. Of course.” That was not what I’d been expecting to hear. I wasn’t anyone special, and these people acted like I was a celebrity. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. But Jared was always friendly with the fans, and I needed to follow his example even if the whole experience was really strange.
They each gave their phones to Sean to have him take photos of us. I hoped he wasn’t upset that they didn’t seem to have a clue who he was. I posed with the group, smiling for a dozen shots, and then signed random pieces of paper for them. I’d never signed anything for someone in my life before that wasn’t a legal document. It was amazing to meet real live fans of our band, but it was also a bit unsettling how they all acted like they knew me when they really didn’t.
After they left, Sean said, “Wow, you’re really famous now.”
“I guess?” I shook my head. “That’s never happened before.”
“Clearly I need to cause some sort of drama, too, to bring in more fans.”
I laughed. “If you do, make sure you never Google yourself. You can never unsee those things.”
Chapter Twenty
On the day of the live show, my nerves were so frayed I was barely hanging together. I hadn’t been this anxious about a performance since the Battle of the Bands round. We’d practiced “Locked Out of Heaven” as much as we physically could, but it was still not as smooth as we’d like. We were at a disadvantage from the other bands who’d had all week with their songs, and even if we nailed it tonight, I didn’t know how many people would vote for us after the photo disaster. Clearly, we still had fans who liked our band, but would they be enough?
Tonight we’d gone for a classier look to shake things up from our normal hard rock image. I wore a strapless, black-and-white sheath dress, while the guys all wore black suits, thin ties, and white shirts. Each of them looked striking, from Kyle with his black hair slicked back and tattoos peeking above his collar, to Hector with his dark curls and broad shoulders filling out his jacket. And then there was Jared, looking almost—but not quite—a gentleman tonight. His blue eyes had a touch of dark liner, his shirt was open just enough to give a glimpse of his neck, and his tailored pants showed off every perfect angle. He looked amazing in a suit, and it killed me that I couldn’t have him.
