by K. C. Wells
“Who’s ever ready?” she asked. “You should sing too. Moral support and everything.”
“Not singing.” Elliot turned to glare at her. They’d already covered the topic many times that week.
“But you have such a pretty voice. I heard you at Linc’s party last weekend.”
Elliot cringed. Yeah, because he’d been drunk. Drunk enough to sing in public, drunk enough to kiss Shelby Turner behind the garage, which was not what he’d planned for that night. He hadn’t even really liked it. It was nice and all, and she was sweet, but it was just… okay.
“What’s up, Els?”
“Nothing.” Please don’t pry. You always pry.
“Did you do something at the party?”
Of course she pried. When does she ever not? Elliot sighed. It wasn’t as if it were some huge deal. High school was over. “I might have made out with Shelby.”
Sara squealed and smacked him. “You slut!” she teased. “Weren’t you kissing Lisa at the party two weeks ago?”
Yeah. And he hadn’t really liked that much either. The girls hadn’t done it for him. He’d kissed a few guys too, and that was better, but nothing to turn his world upside down or anything. Elliot’d had a few crushes but he’d never come across that one. The one who made him feel all that stuff he knew he was supposed to feel but never did.
“Shut up.” He chuckled a little. Sara was kidding… like she could talk anyway. He’d had to pry her lips off some guy from another school and chauffeur her home.
“So what are you singing tonight?” she asked, obviously not ready to give up just yet.
“I’m not. Quit asking.”
Why did I agree to this? I must have lost my freaking mind. Elliot gulped and looked out across the sea of faces. There were a lot of people in the audience. More than he’d ever imagined when he’d finally decided to sing just to shut Sara up.
“Um, hi,” he mumbled into the microphone. The low hum of the crowd grew excruciatingly quiet. He wanted to puke. “I’m Elliot Price.” His voice echoed, painfully loud in the sudden silence of the room. Elliot smiled at the crowd. He tried not to look as nervous as he was, probably came out looking like an eighth grader instead of eighteen. “I’m going to sing ‘Wonderwall’. O-oasis.”
He took the few steps over to the very center of the stage and sat on the stool that was there, not sure if his legs would hold him through a whole song. Elliot was grateful for the stool. His hands trembled and he gripped the mic stand. A short nod to the guitarist and it was too late to back out.
Way to badger me into stuff, Sara.
He’d been there to see her sing, not the other way around. Yet somehow it was him on the stage about to perform in front of way more people than he’d ever sung in front of before—sober or not. Seeing as how his audience was usually himself and a bottle of shampoo, that wasn’t saying much.
Still, he’d signed the sheet, and two stomach-clenching hours later he was on stage about to make the biggest idiot of himself he’d ever made. That was saying something. One of Elliot’s best skills was making an idiot of himself. He’d really outdone himself this time.
THE first few notes were rough, his voice was low and a bit rocky naturally and nerves made his breath catch. Elliot thought he might pass out from sheer humiliation. He nearly quit right there, sank to the ground, and rolled clear off the stage where no one would ever see him again. But then somewhere around the second line something magical happened. Elliot forgot the shuffling crowd, the “talent scouts” who Sara had assured him always came to these sorts of things. He even forgot about his sweaty palms and the fact he’d never done anything even close to performing on a stage, and he simply felt it. By the time he sang “You’re my wonderwall…,” he looked up at the audience, smiled again, and realized he was actually having fun. That he… really liked singing for people and maybe even making them happy. Shocked the hell out of him, to tell the truth. Elliot had never pegged himself as a performer.
The rest of the song passed in a blur. He was in his own little world, looking out at the darkened high school auditorium and living a moment that most likely would never come again. When he finished there was silence, echoing and painful, for a good five seconds. Then the people burst into applause. He thought he might be imagining that the applause was just a little bit louder for him than for the last few singers. Or the fact that it got even louder when he smiled and waved as he walked off the stage.
It was official. Elliot was in love.
“I HAD no idea you were so good! That was way better than at the party,” Sara exclaimed from where she was waiting for him at the side of the stage. She reached out and ruffled his mop of unruly brown curls. He’d tried to tame them before he went on stage but it was useless.
“I was good?” Elliot asked. His stomach was still full of the rush of adrenaline. Part of him was sure he’d throw up at any second.
Sara smacked him on the arm. “Yes. I swear when you smiled there was some swooning going out in that audience. This chick that was practically my mom’s age giggled and swatted her friend.”
“Shut up,” Elliot murmured. But he smiled again anyway. It felt nice that Sara thought he was good at something other than making his father happy. He was planning to go to college in the fall and major in economics to do just that. Elliot didn’t love economics though. He loved music. If this was the one night he’d ever do anything about it, it had been worth it. He was grateful to Sara for prodding him. “You were good too, by the way. Amazing. Sorry I was too nervous to say it before.”
“It’s okay.”
“You wanna head out? We can grab some ice cream on the way home.”
They had at least an hour drive ahead of them. It was probably best to get on the road.
“Sure.” Sara linked her arm through Elliot’s and turned them toward the exit.
They were near the back door of the auditorium when a man stepped in front of them.
“Can I help you?” Sara asked. Elliot elbowed her.
The man looked official, if official was a look. He was tall and a bit intimidating. Black hair, black jacket, expensive-looking jeans. Elliot wondered if the guy was told he looked intimidating a lot.
“I’m Sasha Pulaski.”
Am I supposed to know who that is?
“Um, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and smiled even if he had zero idea of why he was talking to this guy.
Instead of a handshake, Sasha handed Elliot a business card. “Can you be at that address tomorrow at one?”
Elliot looked at the card. The address was right in downtown Los Angeles. The card said Blue Horizon Records. Wait… Blue Horizon Records? Was this Sasha guy an actual freaking honest-to-goodness talent scout? At a local talent search? That kind of thing didn’t really happen, no matter what Sara said. It was a myth, right? It was. Except… well, it seemed like this one time it wasn’t.
“He’ll be there,” Sara answered. She grinned at Elliot cheekily.
“Yeah. Yes. I’ll be there. Of course. One. Can I ask what this is about?”
Sasha smiled. “There are a few other boys I’d like you to meet.”
“DO YOU know what this is about?” Tate asked when he got to the studio. Danny was already waiting there with Reece and Webb. Nearly three weeks had passed since that first day. Three long, awful weeks of looking at his phone every five minutes just in case he missed the call that could change his life. Danny had been starting to worry they weren’t going to hear back from Sasha at all. He’d gotten together with Webb, Reece, and Tate a couple of times to rehearse in the hopes that Sasha would find what he was looking for, that they’d really exist. They were all starting to get nervous though.
Then last night, finally, the phone had rung and a female voice was on the other end of the line asking if he could meet at Blue Horizon in the morning. He’d said yes about six times, frantic, happy, scared as hell. He hoped it was good news. That was about the only kind of news Danny was mentally
ready to take. After all those days and days of waiting, he felt like he was about to fracture into a million little pieces.
“I wonder if he found another guy?” Webb asked. “I hope so.” He hopes so? Hope? Webb’s voice was laid-back and low, as smooth as his skin. Danny wondered how he could be so calm about what might amount to their entire future. Danny’s whole body was vibrating with nerves. Reece looked calm too, slightly naked without his guitar strapped to his back, but calm. Danny shared a commiserating look with Tate, the only other one who seemed to be as on edge as he was.
“Gentlemen, I’m glad you could come!” Sasha strode down the hall, the picture of efficiency and power. Danny wondered if he’d ever not be intimidated by him. “I have someone to introduce you to. He should be here soon. Why don’t we go to Studio Six?” He turned to the receptionist. “When Mister Price gets here will you bring him down to six, Jessica?”
“Yes, Mister Pulaski. No problem.”
“Come this way.” He started down the hallway, long legs taking feet of carpet at a time. Danny, Webb, and Tate had to scramble to keep up. “So I’d listened to a few boys, and I’ll be honest. I hadn’t seen anything I liked and was about to scrap the whole thing.” Danny’s heart flopped painfully at that. “But then last night I was way out in Lord knows where with my sister listening to some god-awful local talent search, and I found him.”
“Him?” Tate asked.
“Your fifth. He’s perfect. Looks like a damn angel, but his voice is sex personified. The girls will be crawling for him.”
He pulled open the door to one of the recording studios and ushered the four boys in.
“So this kid, he’s going to be the star?” Webb asked. Danny was thinking the same thing if the look on Sasha’s face was any indication. He looked like he’d found the Second Coming. Danny wasn’t super happy about that, even though he’d rather sing backup to this angel of sex than not sing at all.
“No, he’s going to be what rounds you guys out. I’m not going to lie. He’s… got a lot of talent. His voice is gorgeous. He’s gorgeous. You’ll see when—” There was a knock at the studio door. “Well, now I suppose. Come in!” he called.
Jessica opened the door and ushered in who Danny assumed had to be “Mister Price.” And he saw it. Right away. His eyes saw it, hell, his entire effing body saw it. God. For real? The kid was on the tall side, lanky, almost dorky to tell the truth, but that didn’t stop Danny’s gut from reacting. He really was beautiful—with floppy brown hair, huge dark brown eyes, and this milky skin that didn’t look like it had seen much of the California sun. He had on a plain old T-shirt and a pair of cargo khakis. Danny smiled to himself. They’d need to work on that. Sasha was right though. He looked like a freaking angel.
“H-hi,” the kid stammered. “I’m Elliot.”
With a voice like sex…. Damn. It was low and gravelly and hit Danny right in the chest. All of a sudden it was hard to breathe.
“Danny.” He stuck his hand out, not wanting to seem rude. He’d been staring, after all.
“Hey, dude. Webb.” Webb shook Elliot’s hand next and smiled. Tate and Reece followed.
When they’d all finished, Sasha asked them to sit. Danny hated all the sitting. He had too much energy thrumming through him, too much to think and worry and say. But he sat anyway, crossed his legs and tried not to fidget. Wouldn’t want to look like he didn’t listen. Not when so much was on the line. Danny glanced over at Elliot, who looked terrified.
“So, Elliot. I haven’t told you much about today.” Sasha gestured at the other guys. “These four came to an open call I posted a few weeks ago. I’m putting together a new vocal group, and I think you’ll mesh well with what I’ve already found.”
“Vocal group?”
Danny rolled his eyes and smiled at the new kid. “He means boy band.”
“B-boy… band? But none of them have hit the big time in years—at least not an American one.”
Sasha grinned. “Exactly. I think it’s about time.”
“I really can’t dance.” Elliot blushed. It was adorable. Even Sasha smiled at him.
“Let’s just get to the singing part first. I’ve hired a vocal coach, Keller Michaels, one of the area’s best. He’s going to work with you guys for a few days this week and let me know if he thinks you have it as a group. Does that work with everyone’s schedule? Anyone have a hard time getting off work?”
Sasha’s question was met with a round of somewhat startled answers. Nobody said they had a hard time getting there. ’Course they’d have had to be nuts to decline. They were getting a vocal coach? He was going to teach them to sing together and… wow. Danny was overwhelmed at the prospect. They had to do it. They just had to.
“Keller says he can meet you here tomorrow at nine. It’ll be a long day. A few of them in a row, I’d imagine, so don’t make any plans.” Sasha stood. “Elliot, why don’t you get to know these guys a little, try a song or two with them and see how things work. I’ll probably catch you guys around a few times this week. Keller will see you in the morning.”
Sasha waved then and left them in the recording studio staring at each other. Danny hated to get excited over what could still very well be nothing, but they’d just taken a big step closer to something as far as he could tell. Yes.
ELLIOT was in shock. No. More than shock. Was there something more than shock? There had to be because he was feeling it. The night before with the business card was crazy enough, but to come to the studio to find out that he had… holy hell. A chance at a recording contract? He didn’t even know what to say.
“S-so is he for real?” Elliot finally asked. The other four didn’t look quite as bowled over as he felt, so they must’ve had quite a bit more warning.
“Sasha Pulaski?” Webb asked. “Yes. I believe he’s rarely anything but serious.”
Elliot choked. “Please tell me that he’s not some famous guy that I should feel like an idiot for not recognizing….”
“We won’t.” Danny smirked.
Elliot tried to smile and failed miserably. That Danny guy made his heart race like crazy. His auburn sweep of hair, bright green eyes, wild smile. Elliot had been pretty sure all along why the girls’ kisses hadn’t done much for him. Pretty sure went to very sure in about two seconds flat.
Oh my God….
“Sasha’s a major producer,” the blond guy said. Elliot had to pay attention. Tate? That’s what Elliot hoped his name was anyway. He didn’t want to ask again. “He’s taken the pop side of this label from pretty much nonexistent to huge.”
“Of course he is. I guess I don’t know the industry very well.”
“Hopefully you’ll have a chance to. Hopefully we all will.” It was the dark guy this time and Elliot had no idea what his name was. Confession time.
“Hey, guys, I’m really sorry but this all came super fast. Can we do names again?” He felt like a jerk.
“Nervous, huh?” The dark guy gave him a sweet smile. “I’m Webber. I go by Webb.” He slung an arm over the pale black-haired kid. “This is Reece, that’s Tate, and the one next to you is Danny.”
“Thanks. I won’t forget again.”
Danny nudged him in the side. “Make sure you don’t.” He was probably kidding though, at least mostly. He winked at Elliot, and Elliot’s breath caught in his throat hard. He struggled to inhale. Yeah, shit. Hell. Damn. Very sure.
“You guys wanna try a song with Elliot?” Reece asked. “I don’t have my guitar, but I guess we can wing it.”
Tate pointed. “There’s a guitar over there. You think they’ll care if you use it?”
Reece shrugged. “If so, then I guess nobody will ever have to find out.” He grinned for a second, then leaned over to snag the six-string acoustic. He strummed a few chords and messed with the tuning knobs. “Sounds okay. It’ll work.”
Elliot’s already nervous stomach cramped hard. “I hope I don’t suck, guys. I’ve never done this before.”
“Just follow along,” Tate said. “And don’t worry. We’ve only done it a few times together ourselves.” Danny snorted and Elliot held back a grin. “Seriously, Danny?” Tate rolled his eyes.
“You know any of the old-school songs?” Tate asked.
“Kind of,” Elliot answered. “What have you guys been singing?”
“How ’bout ‘Invisible Man’? We’ve done that a few times,” Webb suggested.
“98 Degrees? I know that one.”
“Cool. Do what you can,” Tate said with a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine.”
Do what I can. Right. Elliot cleared his throat and nodded. Reece did a few warm-up strums, then went right into the intro. Elliot didn’t join in right at first, just listened. They actually sounded pretty good together. Tate’s voice was strong and perfectly pitched, Webb’s smooth and kind of sexy. Reece and Danny both had mellower voices that filled in the missing places. He was almost afraid to mess it up. But then Danny smiled at him and lifted his chin in a small nod. Elliot’s breath caught in his throat again. Just that little smile was enough to melt him. Quit being an idiot. This is your big chance. Elliot let his breath out slowly and relaxed. I can do it.
So he did. He joined in on the second verse, adding his voice, which was lower and a bit rougher than Tate’s or Webb’s. He didn’t sing too loudly, just tried to blend in. But Sasha had been right. With him it sounded… more complete. One by one the other guys started to smile. They heard it too. By the end of it, all five of them were grinning.
“That was awesome.” Reece propped the guitar between his knees and reached out to bump Elliot’s fist. “You are so in.”
The other three made agreeing noises, and Danny slung his arm across Elliot’s shoulders. “You wanna be in?” he asked. He looked like he was checking. Just to make sure. But Elliot wasn’t crazy.
“Of course!” he said. The other four chuckled.