by Becky Wicks
It's not a game to Sierra, who's got two kids and a mortgage, or to Ady, who's a mechanic with no interest at all in going back to cars. It's definitely not a game to Ronette, who was bullied at school for wanting to become the black Taylor Swift. She's since performed a live duet with the real Taylor and allegedly has her number on speed dial.
It's not a game to me. I've worked so fucking hard for so long. I'm not even in it for the cash... the winner gets two million dollars in installments over a year. Music is what I am, who I am. I don't know what else to do.
'I wake up to the sound of music,
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be...'
Ironically, if all of this comes to nothing, I won't be able to let it be. I know that with every fucking inch of me.
3
'Welcome back from the break!' Jude cries as the cheers deafen us yet again. I try not to let on how sweaty I am in my fucking spacesuit and smile, smile, smile.
'Now, guys, while you've been busy rehearsing your individual songs, we've been spending some sneaky time in your hometowns,' she winks. 'Are you ready to see what's going on in your absence?'
Yet more screaming erupts as the cameras cut to our houses. Instantly our friends and families appear waving banners and jumping excitedly up and down. I spot my house and see Jack straight away, sitting on my flower-patterned couch. It's so goddam surreal. I've watched this show from that same couch, and now I'm on the other side of the TV.
Behind him my eyes find Chloe and my pulse quickens instantly. Her long brown hair is curled and styled over one shoulder and she's wearing the red summer dress she bought in the Urban Outfitters sale last time she came to stay.
Skinnier, I think straight away, noting the pronounced slant of her cheekbones, bronzed with blusher. It's been a few months since I saw her, even though we speak most days. I look for that asshole Cooper next to her but he's actually not sticking out like a dick in his Polo shirts or Prada sweaters like he usually is.
I see mom and dad, the Commander, Alyssa, the guys from the band I abandoned to follow this solo dream and weirdly, I get a rush of emotion, the sudden urge to break down, right here. All those people I love, rooting for me, wanting me to do well, supporting my dream. Fuck. That's enough to make any grown man cry.
'Noah's always been the one who could light up a room, you know?' Chloe's saying suddenly, fiddling with her necklace -- the silver Tinker-Bell one I gave her for her sixteenth birthday. She's talking to a blonde presenter called Kat, who's holding a mic in her face. 'You rocked Noah!' she cries, whooping along with Alyssa, who finally forces herself into the shot. 'We're so proud of you!'
Behind her, everyone in my living room raises the roof and I have to laugh as my mom high-fives my dad. Jesus. Parents should not high-five. Ever.
'There was this one vacation our families took to Disney World in Florida,' Chloe continues. I find myself watching her pink shiny lips. 'Noah was playing his guitar by the hotel swimming pool. He pretty much had every guest in the resort crowding round us. He was like this... I don't know, this miracle kid. Better than Justin Bieber, if I'm allowed to say that?'
'So I guess you witnessed his very first concert?' Kat grins as everyone laughs. 'How old was he then, Chloe?'
'I was nine, so he must've been almost eleven.'
'The original Lockette, would you say?'
'Yeah, I guess I was,' Chloe smiles and I can't help reeling at her words -- the weirdness of it all. The Lockettes. That's what they're calling my fans now.
Kat chats away and a few more people go on about how talented I am before the screen cuts to Sienna's house, where her kids are talking in unison to the camera: 'We love you mommy!'
'Was that your girlfriend?' Courtney whispers to me over the cheering. I don't look at her. 'She's gorgeous! I kind of see why you wouldn't let me get you off again. Although,' she pauses, 'the offer still stands. I like the way you taste, Noah Lockton.'
I shoot her a frown. Fucking hell. We're on camera. And I bet she doesn't care who hears her either.
They cut to yet another soda pop sponsored ad break and I head backstage to prep for my solo. It's always a flurry back here -- busier than Times Square subway station during rush hour; people bumping into each other, shouting, wearing headphones. Courtney swigs from a bottle, which I'm pretty sure is vodka. She hands it to Ronette who politely declines. I adjust my spacesuit, take deep breaths, listen as the music comes back on and the screaming starts back up again. Focus.
It's a fine line between singing an Elvis song as a cover and acting the part like some hip-swinging wannabe from a cruise ship, right? But as I take the guitar that's handed to me - a copy Gibson Flying V - and go forward into the lights I ignore the eyes of the judges as the backing singers surround me and slip instantly into stage mode, fixing a look of indifference onto my face.
It's just me now.
It's something I've always done. It's like it's not even me out here, but someone else entirely, taking charge of my body and soul and controlling me. I've reworked the song Heartbreak Hotel on the guitar, so it's kind of more indie than rock. Jayde helped with the moves, sort of:
'You're gonna look like an idiot if you try and dance! Just stand there and look cool.'
I knew that wouldn't help me win. Showmanship is everything. In the end I Skyped with Chloe. She wound up dancing with me, jumping on the mattress in the tree house, playing air guitar. She was still laughing when I shut the laptop lid on her but interestingly, after I happened to tell the set designer about that call, she put a bed on stage for me to jump on myself. Apparently it'll make the teen girls go crazy.
The thought of Chloe in the tree house plays on my mind as I play up for the camera again, but this time she's not jumping up and down. She's moving slower, semi-naked, trembling underneath me, pulling at my shirt and tugging at my hips...
I push the thought from my head. It's a split second flashback but it throws me. The same fucking images hit me every time I'm horny. I could blame Courtney's flirting, but I do kind of get turned on, being up here in the lights. I jump, bounce, kick the pillows into the air with my golden shoes, messing up the comforter, making my hair do silly things in my face. I get a standing ovation. Part of me isn't surprised. But part of me is I guess, standing here breathless.
'Noah Lockton, you smashed it!' Shania enthuses from the panel as I climb down and take my bows to even more rapturous applause. Luckily the other two judges agree with her. It's all a blur as they praise me and the others sing and we go into the next commercial break. I only really switch on again when we're all lined up together and they start with the overly dramatic music that always makes my blood run cold.
Jude and Keith walk over, stand on either side of us as the lights that were in our faces shut off. Sidelights switch on in pinks and purples and the judges on the panel are lit up, almost bearing neon halos. It's time.
I think of Chloe's khaki green eyes, still watching me from Colorado. I stand taller. She's believed in me since Disney World; in spite of how we fucked things up after that. It's better now, I think. Or maybe we're just used to not discussing it.
Focus.
'Girls and boys, it's been a hell of a ride but as you know, as you've always known, there can only be two acts going on to rock the Radio City Music Hall next week,' Keith says, looping his arm through Ady's, who I can tell is doing his best not to crap his pants. Next to him Sienna appears to be mouthing a prayer with her eyes shut. 'Three of you will have to leave us tonight.'
Courtney's gripping Ronette's hand and Ronette is crying already. 'Judges,' Jude says, 'can we have the results please? Which two of our talented five are going through to the live finals?'
I hold my breath. The stage and entire audience falls silent. I can see the girls in the front row now, including Jayde. She's staring up at me, biting her nails, frowning. An 'I'm the original Lockette' banner is resting on her lap and I know Chloe's comment will have pis
sed her off.
Focus.
A thudding beat sounds out. It's a countdown to everyone's destiny as the panel shift in their seats and Shania opens a silver envelope.
'The two finalists in this year's Show Us What U've Got are...' she starts, pausing dramatically to induce a heart attack in all of us.
Please, God... this is all I can do.
'Courtney Lentini and... Noah Lockton!'
4
Chloe
'I'll drive you to New York,' Cooper says, turning from the road to me with his vaporizer pen hanging out of his mouth. It's a question and a statement at the same time.
'Really? Cooper, it's halfway across the country!'
'We've got four days to get you there, don't we?' he replies over the steering wheel as he pulls into the Walmart parking lot. 'I wanna come with you Chlo, but you know I can't afford the flight right now.'
I narrow my eyes. Until now, Cooper has expressed zero interest in coming to Noah's live final, in spite of the show giving his family and most of his friends free tickets. He's been crying poverty lately as his weed hasn't sold for as much as he was hoping for, but I'm pretty sure if he really wanted to fly somewhere his loaded dad back in Baltimore would pay.
'Are you sure?' I ask as he parks the Jeep in the disabled spot and we both climb out. Cooper isn't disabled, clearly. He had a knee injury a few months back and got given the badge and for some reason he's still using it. He tried to explain that it's not really dishonest as he really was crippled for a while, but I'm not exactly sure it's fair now that he can walk without limping. Still, I don't bring it up. He just rolls his eyes when I do.
'Google says it'll take just over a day direct, but we can stop along the way,' he tells me as he locks the door behind us. 'We can make a road trip of it, stop in Chicago or something. When was the last time we went on a road trip, Chlo?'
He nuzzles my ear in the way he knows makes me weak and I rack my brains, pushing us through the double doors. There was the time we drove in the snow up to Vail, stopped somewhere near Beaver Creek to have crazy sex in the back with the seats down because Cooper said the name turned him on.
We almost did the same on the way back; only that time the cops pulled us over for speeding on some windy mountain road layby. It was only three months after my dad died; he was going out of his way to make me happy. He also had no clue what I'd done. He still doesn't.
'I'm not sure you should drive across the country...' I start, feeling the familiar rush of guilt start to flood through me.
'I won't be high this time, I promise,' he interrupts, turning to me with eyes as blue as a husky's.
'That's not what I was worried about. I just mean it's a really long way. Why don't I just lend you the money for the flight, if you really want to come?'
Cooper drops his arm from around me and collects a cart, starts wheeling it down the candy aisle. 'Of course I want to come. Noah's your BFF isn't he? I'd rather drive us though, Chlo. I think it'll be fun. And you know you wanna steam the Jeep windows up again, don't you?' He grins. 'Somewhere dangerous?'
'I'll think about it,' I reply. I know he's smiling but I don't miss the thinly veiled disdain in his voice when he talks about my friendship with Noah. Again, the guilty pangs force me to keep my mouth shut.
We're picking up supplies for my mom's surprise birthday party. Jack and Noah's parents are throwing it for her. I sweep a couple of bags of Kisses into the cart, pick out some balloons from the next aisle and Cooper continues to puff on his vapo pen the whole way, turning products over in his big hands, slowly.
I so wish he didn't insist on being high all day, every day. It makes having a normal conversation really hard. Alyssa used to drool over him, telling me how lucky I was. Now she just tells me to 'wake up and smell the pot cookies.' Being Greek-American she prides herself on saying everything how it is. 'He's permanently hangry,' she noted the other day. The mixture of angry and hungry is another of her favorite labels for people, but the way Cooper's munchies strike and he won't talk to anyone till he eats means it's pretty much the truth. He is a hangry boyfriend.
'Meet me out front in five, baby?' he's saying now, sweeping a bag of party poppers into a canvas bag already in the cart. I notice he's also loaded up on eggs, bacon, bread, cookies, toilet paper and a couple other things for his house.
'What? Where are you going?'
'I'm gonna go get some bits from the pharmacy, just meet me out front. Here, you get these...' he shoves another pack of balloons into my hands, '... and I'll get this.'
'OK.' I watch in surprise as he wheels off and his sandy blonde head disappears round the corner. He must be so stoned. He was just telling me he has no money and now he's offering to pay for my mom's stuff with his own groceries? I sigh to myself and pick up another few things.
When I've paid and made my way outside, Cooper is waiting in the Jeep with the engine running right outside. I climb in, frowning at him. 'What's going on?'
'Hurry up,' he urges and speeds off out of the parking lot before I've even done up my seatbelt.
'Cooper, what are you doing?'
'What did you get?'
'Just the balloons and some streamers, and...'
'I didn't pay for any of that!' he blurts, motioning to a canvas shopping bag in the back. He's laughing like a kid on e-numbers as he draws on his pen again. His eyes are sapphire slits. My breath catches.
'Are you serious? Cooper! What the hell are you doing?'
'I'm not paying anything to those corporate assholes, you think they deserve our money? Trust me Chloe, they're not gonna go out of business if we take a few freebies here and there. We need them more than they do...'
'We need balloons more than they do? What the hell, Cooper, you can't just steal shit from Walmart!'
'I just did, didn't I?'
I'm speechless. I seriously don't know what else to say. I spin around in my seat, expecting sirens to start sounding out behind us. I could die like this. But we make it back to Noah's house and he drops me off with the bags, kisses my cheek and leaves me standing here, holding his stolen goods on the driveway.
It's exactly this moment that Jack calls and says the flights to New York on Thursday and Friday are already fully booked up. Apparently his parents, he and his girlfriend Daniela got the last seats. 'Cooper mentioned something about driving, though, right?' he asks me.
My heart plummets. I'm already trembling with the adrenaline and I mouth the word no, but nothing comes out.
'Chloe?'
'When did he say that?' I manage.
'He told me and Alyssa, the other day at the house,' Jack replies. 'Oh shit, that's OK isn't it Chlo? Let me know if it's not and I'll...'
'No, no, Jack of course, it's cool. We're driving. Yes.'
'OK, great. Phew. Perfect. I'll see you tonight at the party then, babe?'
'Sure thing.' Shit. Well, I couldn't let him think anything's wrong, could I? It's his brother's one chance at fame and fortune. He doesn't need to be worrying about me.
The Lockton family have done more than enough for me and my mom over the years; even after Noah left for New York on his nineteenth birthday convinced he would shoot to stardom. Instead he shot to Starbucks, obviously, but even with all this going on, we've spoken pretty much every day and Jack and I, his mom and mine are pretty much always in each other's pockets. I would never jeopardize this friendship.
Not again.
Looks like we're road-tripping to the finals with Cooper after all. My stomach lurches just thinking about it.
5
Noah
'Happy birthday Commander!' I grin into my iPad, blowing a kiss at the camera and propping it up on the coffee table against the stack of Game of Thrones novels Jack says I have to read. I came back home to Brooklyn to Skype the party because the people milling around the Show Us What U've Got pad in midtown are starting to piss me right off; not to mention Courtney.
She's turned us living together into a game, w
hereby she wears the skimpiest fucking clothes in my proximity whenever she can. She knows I'm with Jayde and I know that's why she does it. She's also moved her pet in - a skinny Siamese thing called The Great Catsby (yes, with capital letters) who follows her everywhere and purrs louder than a lawn mower.
Trying to act excited right now isn't hard, though. Trust me, I'm well aware how quickly my life is changing for the better. I just got recognized on the L Train to Montrose Avenue and had to sign three autographs, all for hot seventeen-year-old chicks who asked if they could come home with me and watch me play guitar.
'I'm sure that's what they're calling it these days,' Jack said in his grandpa's voice when I told him.
The buzz you get when someone actually recognizes you... I'm not gonna lie; it's everything you think it's gonna be. You get kind of hot and tingly and tongue-tied, like a teacher back at school has put you on the spot and you don't know if you're gonna say the right thing, or do the right thing, but at the end of the day it doesn't matter, not like at school, because you can do or say whatever the fuck you want. You're famous.
Still, it's all a little weird. And exhausting, actually.
Jayde is sitting on the arm of the couch, drinking licorice tea from my Captain Hook mug, twizzling strands of her short blonde hair around her finger. She's smiling at me. Of course she's smiling. I gave her an orgasm roughly thirty minutes after I got home. Till now it's been at least a week since we've been in the same room and every time Courtney parks her ass on my bed back in Chelsea and begs me for a private concert at the end of a long day, it's the toughest job I’ve ever had not giving in and letting out all my tension in a totally inappropriate way; even with The Great Catsby snaking round my ankles. I needed to see Jayde today.
'Thank you Noah, sweetie. I wish you could be here,' the Commander, Chloe's mom is telling me now. We always call her the Commander. Over her shoulder Chloe is smiling through a curtain of streamers hanging from the ceiling. She's wearing her blue daisy patterned dress.