Текст книги "Take a Bow"

Автор книги: Elizabeth Eulberg

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

I’m sure he did, but I have no idea what any of that really means. “I didn’t realize it was a CPA thing, plus I don’t know who Trevor is.”

“Trevor Parsons. He’s only the best art student in school.”

He says this like being the best art student is a big thing in this school. The stage is what matters.

“I thought we were going to some fabulous opening. We haven’t done that in forever. Can’t you call Sheila Marie and see if there’s anything going on tonight that’s fun?”

“But I want to go to this. And we can’t call Sheila Marie. She’s no longer my publicist. I don’t really want to deal with the press anymore.”

Here I had the most amazing audition, and Carter has to ruin it by taking me to some lame school event and firing his publicist.

It used to be fun to be with Carter, doing things like going to openings and getting my picture taken. But lately he’s been so weird. He doesn’t like to go out, he’s been talking about Emme just a little too much (it’s always about her, isn’t it?), and he’s even cutting down on his hours on the soap opera. If I wanted to date a normal high school boy, I’d go out with some guy back in Brooklyn who’d be dying to be seen with me on his arm.

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew.” Carter puts his muscular arm around me.

I lean into him. Carter’s a good guy and sometimes I can’t believe he’s my boyfriend. I dream big, but he’s so much more than I thought I would get. It’s not just his looks or his fame (although those help). I’m just thankful he isn’t that emotional a person; I’ve got too many of those people in my life as is. Plus, we look really good together. I figure once I get my record contract, he’ll come to some of my gigs, get me some press attention (mental note: talk to his mom about hiring a new publicist ASAP), then we’ll break up right before my album release, which the tabloids would love: “Single Sophie Stays Strong.”

I can practically see the cover now.

So I’ll go to some stupid art opening. It’s the least I can do.

After all, today has otherwise been a very, very good day.

You’d think that a school based on the study of performance and art would have better lighting.

After we eat and I change back into my normal school clothes for the day (thankfully, I wore a very cute fitted navy dress, just in case I didn’t have time to change into my outfit for the audition), Carter and I walk into the large art studio that’s hosting the exhibit. It’s mostly filled with the art students … and, of course, Emme and her entourage: Ethan, Ben, Jack, and Chloe. At least I know someone here.

Emme comes up to us, with Ethan following obediently behind her. “Hey, guys!” She gives us both hugs while Ethan just stands there.

“Sophie, you were wonderful at the audition today.” Emme is beaming.

Ethan decides to ruin this nice moment by speaking. “Yes, it’s remarkable how well you were able to pick up on my song. It’s almost like, I don’t know, you’d heard it before.”

Emme’s eyes grow wide.

Carter looks between Ethan and me. “What’s this?”

I wish Ethan didn’t hate me so much. He really is one of the most talented songwriters in school. It would be nice to have him on my side. I know he could write some truly amazing songs for me.

I turn to Carter. “Part of the audition was sight-reading, which always makes me so nervous. I was sick to my stomach over it. But when I found out it was a song by Ethan, I got so excited because I’ve always wanted to sing one of his songs. And it was so beautiful, it practically sang itself. I don’t think anybody could do a bad job singing it.”

Ethan’s reaction doesn’t change. But Emme eats it up. “Exactly! You did such a good job and it is one of my favorite songs by Ethan. We’re going to record it this weekend for his Juilliard pre-audition.”

“Impressive.” Carter’s attention moves back to the group after he scans the paintings on the wall. “You have to pre-audition?”

“Yeah,” Emme says, “you have to send in a tape, and that factors into whether or not you get asked to audition.”

“Yikes!” Carter makes a face. It isn’t very attractive.

“I know, and to add insult to injury, the Juilliard audition is two weeks after the showcase, so it will not be a fun winter. That is, if we get into the showcase and are asked to audition.”

“Are you two auditioning together?” Carter gestures at Emme and Ethan.

Emme shakes her head. “No, we’re playing on each other’s audition tapes. But the band will be auditioning for the showcase … if we’re asked.”

“There’s no way you guys aren’t going to be in the showcase. No way.”

I wish Carter showed that much enthusiasm about me being in the showcase.

Emme smiles at Carter. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of them, but I don’t like it one bit. Emme has had a few dates, but the band keeps her too busy to have a serious boyfriend. Not that it isn’t obvious to everybody that Ethan worships her. Well, obvious to everybody but Emme.

“Hey, Carter.” Emme nudges him. “Let’s go say hi to Trevor!” She grabs him by the elbow and leads him off.

Ethan just stares at me.

“What?”

“I know you pressured Emme into playing the song for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’ll admit I asked her about it, but Emme plays by the rules too much to do something ‘illegal’ like give me an advantage.” Emme’s naïve belief in playing fair guarantees that she will not make it in the music business. If she thinks CPA is cutthroat, wait until she gets to the real world. No one, not even Ethan, can protect her then.

“No, she wouldn’t do that … without being manipulated.”

“Honestly, Ethan, think what you want. I’m telling you the truth.”

He scowls at me. “Please. You are not that good an actress.” He walks away and heads over to the rest of his groupies.

Let me think; I was able to get holier-than-thou Emme to basically cheat to give me the leg up, promise me that I can record a demo that I can send out, and get her to write a song for the Senior Showcase … because we are BFFs. Not to mention that I’ve got the most famous student at CPA as my boyfriend.

I think that makes me an excellent actress.

Opening night.

For the past six weeks I’ve been pulling eighteen-hour days: Wake up at six, exercise, eat, go to school, study for two hours, and then rehearse my role as Desirée in A Little Night Music.

My parents and Emme worry that skipping college and going right into the “grind” will be too much for me. But I’ve proven that I can not only handle long and grueling days, but thrive. This is what I want to do. I love the busy days, rehearsing, performing. I understand that being worn out is part of this business. I know exactly what it’ll take to be a star. And I’m not afraid to go for it.

I step out on the stage and feel the warmth of the spotlight.

There is no question that this is where I belong. Every eyeball is on me.

Lead role in a major CPA production.

Check!

Now all I need is to land the lead spot in the showcase and it will all be mine.

Sophie is amazing. She gets a well-deserved standing ovation every night.

I look over to see her being congratulated at the after-party of our final performance. She’s beaming, as she should be.

“Here you go.” Ethan hands me some punch. “To getting it over with.”

We clink our glasses together. With our musical requirement out of the way, we can concentrate on our final project.

“I’m sick to my stomach thinking about the fact that we mailed our applications.”

Ethan and I went together to mail our pre-audition applications and CDs before tonight’s show. I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to do it if he hadn’t been with me, practically pulling the envelope out of my hand.

“Your songs are incredible. You sounded incredible.”

“Don’t remind me.” I have a hard time listening to me sing. The first take we did of my vocals was awful. But I got used to singing; it helped that Ethan was being so supportive. Although he is the only person I’ve allowed to hear me sing. Well, Ethan and the admissions staff at Juilliard. “What did you make me do?”

He laughs at me. “Oh, I don’t know, help you accomplish your dreams. Really, a simple thank-you will suffice.”

“Thank you.” I raise my glass to him.

“Don’t mention it. Actually, mention it … often.”

I don’t exactly know what’s happened to him, but he’s really turned around the last few weeks. There’s no drama, no self-pity; he’s just plain, regular Ethan.

“Okay, I have a favor to ask.”

He looks at me with a smirk on his face. “Oh, really? This ought to be good.”

“You have to promise me that you’ll tell me the second you hear from Juilliard and the other schools.” He scowls slightly. He’s always the first one of us to get his CPA acceptance for the following semester, but he always waits to tell us until we all receive ours. “This is a really big deal, and I want you to feel like you can celebrate it and not worry about if I’ve heard anything. Promise.”

He pauses for a second before he responds. “Okay.”

“Say it.”

“Promise.” He looks down at the floor for a few beats before he looks up at me. And he seems nervous. “Emme, I need you to know that —”

“Hey, guys!” Tyler Stewart approaches us. “Great job!” Tyler was the lead pianist in the orchestra for the show. I also had a little bit of a crush on him when we were in Advanced Piano last year.

“Thanks, although I really didn’t do much. You were extraordinary.” I feel my cheeks grow hot.

He smiles at me. “Oh, come on, that triangle can be pretty tricky.”

I laugh like an idiot. I’ve never been good at flirting. Ever. That’s probably why I’ve only had about four dates at CPA. I like to blame it on how busy we are. But it’s because I’ve got absolutely no skills when it comes to boys. Sure, I love the guys in the band, but they’re like brothers to me. There was never any question that we were only going to be friends, so there’s never been any pressure to be anybody but me.

“Well, I’m a girl of many talents.”

Oh, my goodness. What did I just say?

Fortunately, Tyler laughs and replies, “I’m sure you are.”

Ethan interrupts us. “I’m ready to head out.”

“Oh, okay.” Tyler looks disappointed.

The guys in the band are extremely protective of me, and always have been. There was this one guy who used to come to our gigs all the time last year and talk to me afterward. The guys referred to him as my stalker. He was innocent enough (and only fourteen), but Jack always stood over him like my bodyguard.

“Um, actually, I was going to hang around and go back to Brooklyn with Sophie,” I say. That’s technically not a lie. Sophie and I didn’t make plans to go back together, but I just assumed. Plus, it lets me stay longer and talk to Tyler without me appearing desperate.

Tyler lights up. “Great!”

Ethan hesitates. “Okay, see you tomorrow.” He gives me a quick hug and nods at Tyler.

After Ethan leaves, Tyler leans in. “I’ve got a confession to make. Ethan intimidates the crap out of me. That guy is a genius.”

I nod. “He really is. I’ve watched him write songs, and it just comes out of him so fast. It’s like it’s completely effortless, and I, of course, have to spend days, weeks even, obsessing over the simplest chord progression.” I think Ethan’s probably bored with our assignments in class, he’s always the first one to finish. He’d never admit it since the rest of us struggle, but I always wonder why he puts up with all the drama of CPA when he’s one of the few students who doesn’t really need the school’s help. He’s already a brilliant songwriter. “I have to admit that I was terrified the first time I had to play something I wrote in front of him. But he’s also one of the most supportive people in the program.”

Tyler puts his hand in his pockets. “Yeah, that’s great … um, since we’re confessing things, I also want to admit that I’m glad he left and that you’re still here.”

I think, Play it cool, Emme. But “Me, too!” bursts from my lips with a little too much excitement.

Tyler and I sit on a couch and talk for the rest of the time. I don’t even notice when Sophie leaves. Or that Ethan texts me four times to see if I made it home okay. Or that Tyler and I are the last ones there.

All I know is that I have a date planned with Tyler Stewart.

Leave it to Jack to figure out something is going on.

“What aren’t you telling me, Red? You’ve got this little mischievous smile on your face.”

“I do not.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders and leans in to stare into my eyes.

“Yes, you do. I’ll admit, it suits you well. You should be a troublemaker more often.”

The four of us sit down in composition class. The last thing I need is those three giving me grief for my date on Wednesday with Tyler.

Thankfully, Mr. North starts class, which is the only thing that can quiet Jack down (somewhat). But he keeps tugging on my hair as Mr. North fills us in on the next CPA concert.

“Okay, guys, the alumni concert is coming up. I don’t need to remind you that some of our most prestigious alumni, and those with the deepest pockets, come each year to be wowed by the students. Now that you’re seniors, you get the privilege of putting on the show. The theme this year is Icons. Each performance will need to feature an icon or an iconic piece from one of the decades since CPA was founded. A representative from each group needs to come up and pick a decade out of the hat.”

Jack gets up for us and takes a piece of paper out of the hat. He unfolds it and nods his head with a big smile on his face. He shows Mr. North the paper and holds it out to us as he comes back to his seat. “The eighties.”

The other four groups pick their decades, and Mr. North reminds us that this is the last all-school performance before the showcase audition invitations are handed out.

“Okay,” Ethan starts us off. “We’ve got to make a statement here. I’m thinking that whatever we choose, it should be something loud, something big, very rock-heavy. Last year I wanted to fall asleep from all the power ballads. Just because some of the alumni are elderly, it doesn’t mean that we can’t spice things up.”

We all agree. Plus, being loud always helps me with any nerves I have onstage. Churning out big power chords fast has a calming effect on me. I’m probably the only person who finds performing punk music therapeutic.

“Why don’t we put a punk spin on whatever song we choose?” I say.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack agrees.

We throw out names of the eighties’ musical icons: Madonna, Prince, Bruce Springsteen, The Police, and so on. Until we settle on the biggest of them all.

Michael Jackson.

Ben hits his hand against the table. “I’ve got it. ‘Beat It.’ It’s got the sick guitar lick and solo. Ethan, I know you can take it to the next level. Plus, Jack can hash out an intense beat on the drum, and Emme and I will keep up just fine.”

It’s unanimous. I pull out The Calendar and start to figure out practice times.

“Man, I’m excited about this.” Jack is already tapping out a beat with his fingers. “I want to start working on it ASAP. What’s everybody’s week like? If we get even a basic idea down, maybe we can do a rough version at our gig on Friday night?”

“I’m free,” Ben offers.

“Me, too,” Ethan says with his eyes closed. I know he’s figuring out his part in his head.

“Yeah. Me, too, except for Wednesday.”

All three of them look at me. “What’s Wednesday?” Jack’s got one eyebrow raised.

“I have plans.”

Jack scoffs. “Plans? With who?”

“Am I not allowed to have plans that don’t involve you guys?”

“No,” they say in unison.

“Whatever.”

Jack, never one to let things go, prods on. “Sophie? Carter?”

“No, I … Okay, I’ll tell you, but please don’t make a big deal about it.”

Jack gasps. “Emme Connelly, do you have a date?”

“Oh, just forget it.”

“We certainly will not forget it.”

“Fine, I’m going to dinner with Tyler. Happy?”

Jack shakes his head. “Nicely done, Red.”

I pull out The Calendar to write up our practice schedule until the concert in three weeks. Ben spends the rest of the class grilling me on my date, with Jack making disparaging comments. And Ethan keeps his eyes closed for the rest of the time.

At least one of them respects what little privacy I have.

Over the past three years, I’ve had to audition seven times to be a student at CPA, I’ve performed countless times as part of an assignment or with the band, and now I’m singing on an album that will serve as my senior thesis … not to mention part of my application to the top music school in the country.

However, I don’t think anything has made me as nervous as walking into the bistro where I’m meeting Tyler.

He stands up from the table where he’s waiting for me. His wavy brown hair is just slightly shorter than Ethan’s and he’s sporting just the right amount of stubble. He’s got his normal outfit of dark jeans with a button-down shirt – this time it’s white with thin black stripes.

He greets me with a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

I smile at him as I put my shaking hands in my lap. Sophie was busy, so Ben came over and helped me pick out my outfit: black leggings with a long, gray sweater, and black riding boots. He said I looked classic, yet contemporary.

We make small talk about class and music assignments. Tyler is applying to most of the same schools as Ethan and I.

“I submitted my application to Juilliard yesterday,” he says as our pasta entrées arrive. “I thought I was going to throw up.”

“Me, too,” I confide. “I stood there in front of the mailbox for what seemed like an eternity. Ethan had to pry the envelope out of my hand.”

“Oh.” Tyler picks at his fettuccini. “I guess I should have assumed that he’s applying as well. Not like he needs Juilliard. You know, I thought you guys were a couple for the longest time. He’s always around you.”

This isn’t the first time that somebody thought this about us. But he’s pretty shy when he’s not onstage, so he only really talks to me and the other members of the band. Nobody ever seems to think he’s with Ben, though. Which always irritates Ben. I smile as I think of Ben saying “What? Like I couldn’t get you if I really tried?”

“What’s so funny?” Tyler asks.

“Oh, just thinking of something. Anyway, Ethan’s one of my closest friends. All the guys in the band are.”

Tyler nods knowingly. “I wish I could say the same for the rest of the piano section. But there’s usually only a need for one pianist. Not a way to make good friends.”

“I can only imagine.”

Tyler lets out a laugh. “Yeah, it isn’t pretty. Although I think the vocal department is worse. I accompany Sarah Moffitt a lot, so I’ve heard some interesting stories.”

I nod since I’ve heard a lot of stories, many of them about Sarah, from Sophie. I realize every day how lucky I am to be in my department. Sure, we compete for songs against each other, but there’s never been any sabotage … at least that I’m aware of.

“So what are you auditioning with?” I decide to change the subject away from the vocal department.

Tyler begins to enthusiastically go over his audition pieces. We don’t discuss CPA for the rest of the meal.

As he walks me to the subway, he holds my hand. We walk slowly for several blocks, and as we approach the entrance, butterflies start swirling in my stomach.

“Are you going to be okay getting home?” He steps out of the way of pedestrians coming from an arriving train.

I nod my head. “Yes. Thanks for dinner.”

He takes a step toward me and cups his hand around my chin. He leans in and kisses me gently. “Call me when you get home.”

Since I’ve apparently become mute, I nod again.

I practically float through the turnstile and back to Brooklyn.

We decide to run through “Beat It” during our sound check on Friday night. We’re the second of three acts performing at the Ravine, a new concert venue in the Village. It’s the biggest place we’ve played, the stage is a lot bigger than we’re used to … and higher up.

“No stage diving, Red,” Jack says as he looks down at the five feet that separate the stage and the floor. We’re used to being on a small riser.

Ethan keeps going over his guitar solo. His fingers are moving so fast, I don’t think any of us will be able to keep up with him.

“You know,” Ben says once Ethan stops, “I don’t think we should play it tonight. It’s not that I don’t think we could do a good job or anything, but I’d rather keep what we’re doing a surprise until the alumni concert.”

“Good point,” Jack agrees. “Best to floor everybody then.” He rearranges the set list a few more times before it’s done. Since there’ll be more people here – most likely for the headlining band – we’re starting off with a few covers to warm up the crowd before we do our original songs.

We head back to our dressing room. Everybody starts with their pre-concert rituals. Jack and Ben play video games and fake argue with each other. I do homework (I’m so hardcore!) and Ethan paces around.

A cheer erupts from Ben as Jack throws down his controller. “Oh, I didn’t realize we could cheat,” Jack says drily.

Ben gets up and does a small dance. “You’re such a sore loser.”

Jack crosses his arms and pulls his bottom lip out.

Ben turns his back on him. “Emme, Ethan, I’m going to check out the first band; you guys want to join?” He then looks over at Jack. “You are of course welcome, Sir Pouts-a-Lot.”

Ben heads out of the dressing room, and the three of us follow him. As soon as we exit the room, we see Chloe approaching us with Carter … and Tyler.

“Where are you guys off to?” Chloe goes over to Jack and gives him a hug. His pout evaporates and he wraps his arms around her. Ah, young love. “We wanted to wish you good luck!”

Tyler comes up to me and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. “I brought these for you.” Behind his back is a bouquet of roses.

“Thanks,” I say quietly.

Jack starts to say something, but Chloe hits him. “Um, yeah, anyway …” Jack motions toward the side of the stage. “We were going to check out the City Kings, and um …” Jack can’t stop looking between Tyler and me. I feel the entire group’s eyes are on us and I don’t know what to do.

I grab Carter’s arm and lead him to the side of the stage, just as a group made of students from the LaGuardia school start their set.

“How are things?” I shout above the loud guitars blaring through the room.

He smiles at me. “Good. I’ll be soap-free by spring!” Carter fills me in on his progress of moving away from acting. He’s even looking into private art lessons.

“That’s fantastic.” A ballad starts playing and Tyler comes over, wrapping his arms around my waist. As if I wasn’t nervous enough before facing a packed crowd of five hundred people.

We all stand there and watch the band. I can’t really concentrate on the music – my entire focus is on Tyler’s hands and his breath hitting my neck. Jack nudges me a few times playfully, but I try to stare out at the stage and look like I’m not freaking out inside.

The City Kings finish their set and we head to our dressing room.

“I’ve never seen a show from the side before,” Chloe says. “That was cool.”

Jack puts his arm around her. “You can see our shows from anywhere you want. I know I don’t have a bad angle.”

The stage manager pops his head in the door and yells “Five minutes!”

“Yikes, we better get going.” Chloe gives Jack a quick kiss.

“Yeah, break a leg.” Tyler gives me a quick kiss as well.

Before the door even closes, Jack starts in on me. “Ooh, Red! You’ve finally snagged a groupie. My little girl’s all growns up!”

“Ah, guys,” Ben interrupts us. “Do you know where Ethan is?”

I didn’t even realize he wasn’t there. It’s not like the room is that big. “Where did he —”

Ben opens the door and looks down the hallway. “He left right when the band started – I thought he was going back here. Maybe he’s just getting some fresh air or running around.”

Ben and I head in opposite directions and I see Ethan talking to one of the members of the headlining band, Prophecy’s Cupid, an honest-to-goodness signed band.

“Hey, we’re on soon!” I call out.

Ethan turns his head toward me and I immediately smell alcohol on him. He hasn’t had a drink before a show since The Incident. He used to have a drink to loosen up his nerves, and I guess none of us ever said anything to him because we knew how nervous he was about being the front man. But then he started to have a couple more drinks that led to more Ethan drama, including his subsequent meltdown over Kelsey. I thought he was better, but he’s not. He’s wasted. He must’ve been doing shots or something to get this drunk this quickly.

“Awesome.” He barely looks at me. “Thanks, man.” He shakes hands with the lead singer.

“Are you okay?”

He stumbles slightly. “Yep, everything’s great, Emme. No need to worry about me. Thanks so much for your concern, though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t bother to answer me as he heads to the side of the stage.

“There you are!” Jack screams over the audience. But the second he sees Ethan, he knows we’re in trouble. “Dude, are you feeling all right?”

Ethan gives a big smile. “Never felt better!” He runs out to the stage before we’re even announced.

“Crap.” Jack follows behind him while Ben and I stare at each other.

“Please don’t tell me he’s been drinking,” Ben says.

I shake my head. “Then don’t ask a question you don’t want to know the answer to.”

Ben runs out and I have no choice but to follow him.

Ethan grabs the microphone. “All right, New York City! I’m feelin’ good; how are you all doing tonight?” The crowd screams back. Ethan stumbles slightly as he reaches for his guitar. “I’ll tell you what. You all look beautiful tonight, you do.”

Some girl in the audience shouts, “You’re hot!”

Ethan falls to his knees. “Who said that?” There are a bunch of screams. “It’s nice to know that somebody appreciates me.”

I look back to Jack, who motions for me. I run over.

“Can you do the main riff for ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’?” he asks.

“Of course!” I scream over Ethan’s incessant banter.

“You might as well do it because I don’t think he’s going to shut up.”

Jack counts off and I start playing.

Ethan starts jumping up and down. This probably isn’t the best way to calm him down, but we need to do something to get him focused.

Ethan runs to grab the microphone, but loses balance. Everything plays out in slow motion. He lunges forward, and although he tries to steady himself, he falls down into the small barrier between the crowd and stage.

Ben and I run up to the side of the stage.

When I look down, I see Ethan sprawled out like one of the chalk outlines you see on TV.

I jump down right as I hear voices screaming “Call 9-1-1!” around me.

“Ethan! ETHAN!” I’m afraid to touch him. He isn’t responding.

Ethan lies there unconscious with blood dripping from his mouth.