by D. A. Graham
Tix marches out to the center of the stage and squints at all of us. “We saw some great performances from all of you tonight, but the time has come to say goodbye to one of our contestants,” he says, his voice dropping dramatically. “I will now announce which team will be losing one of its members tonight.”
I glance around. Casey and Delia are still glaring at me. With my mistake, I might have made us lose.
But Tix says, “Marina’s team, please step forward.”
The four contestants on Marina’s team gulp loudly and do as they’re told. Tix looks intensely at each of them, dragging it out for the sake of suspense. I’m sure the show’s editors will add dramatic music later so the viewers at home feel the tension that we all feel now. But right now, no music is needed to capture the mood. I shiver as the contestants shiver, their nervousness washing over me. It could have been me up there.
“Olivia Rooney,” Tix says.
One of the girls stiffens.
“You have been eliminated.”
Olivia shakes her head in disbelief. Her duo partner, a girl on Ryan’s team, runs out to hug her. The cameras follow her off the stage, and then the filming of the first episode is over.
My legs are heavy as I plod back to my room to sleep. In the whirlwind of it all, I don’t get the chance to say congratulations to Ryan. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Chapter
6
The next morning, I stumble down to our practice room in the studio for another day of hard work. Another day of trying to “find my passion” or whatever. Another long day where I don’t get to see Ryan at all.
Cassandra starts our lesson by scolding us. “Last night was not your best work. Obviously, there was Eve’s mistake—”
Casey and Delia shoot me smug grins.
“—but you two lost the soul of the music as well.” She turns to them. “You threw Eve off when you tried too hard to take the spotlight. This was a team performance. Your team is four people, not a duo with some backup singers.”
Cassandra claps her hands. “Let’s get it together. And stick together.”
During vocal training, Cassandra shows Casey and Delia how to hit high notes. How to sing without growling. Lark and I practice adding more strength to our voices. That means getting loud.
When Cassandra takes a break and leaves us alone in the room with the cameras, the punks home in on me.
“We’ll show you how to put power into your voice,” Delia says. “You’re too gentle. This is a competition. Act like it!”
“You want your voice to be like this!” Casey pounds her fist into her palm.
“That’s what my guitar is for,” I say.
“What if you don’t have your guitar?”
“Well, then Ryan—”
“You don’t have Ryan now,” says Lark.
I fall silent.
“Remember what I said yesterday? About needing to step outside your comfort zone? I think that means letting go of your duo.” I frown at her, not liking the idea of forgetting about Ryan. “It’s like Cassandra said. We’re not individual members of different duos. We’re a band—together. We’re here to do new and different things with our music than we ever did before. That will help us all improve.”
I realize she’s right. I rely on Ryan to fill in when I’m not good enough. He does all the dancing. He makes the beat. I think about all our songs, from “The Quiet Night” to the first one we ever made together when we were eight years old—a silly little tune about how much doing chores sucks. In all of them, my voice is the same: gentle and quiet.
So I should learn how to sing differently, I decide. It will help me write and perform different kinds of songs with Ryan after one of us wins the competition. When we go on tour, we’ll be able to take everything we learn here with us.
Casey and Delia nod too. “And we want to learn how to sing more like you two.”
“Then let’s work together,” Lark says. She sticks her hand out. Casey and Delia put their hands on top of hers. Then I add mine. I grin at the cheesiness of it, and we all laugh.
But even if we’re a band, I’m still in a duo with Ryan too, I think. I need to talk to him. I need to tell him what I’ve been thinking about these past few days. Right when Cassandra comes back, I ask to be excused to the bathroom.
Instead of heading to the bathroom, though, I sneak down the hallway to his team’s rehearsal room. I creep along the wall so the cameras can’t see me through the doorway. I listen for a moment as Asher sings some kind of country music. Then the coach—Peter—announces it’s time to take a break from singing and do some interviews for the viewers of the show. Ryan’s going first.
“How come he gets to go first?” Asher complains.
“Because he’s better than you,” Peter says. “Now, let’s go.”
There’s the sound of shoes shuffling as everyone else clears the room. Asher comes out, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. I duck around the corner to hide from the group of them, but thankfully they all go the other way.
I emerge from around the corner, hoping to catch Ryan before the interview. But instead I hear a low grumble of a man’s voice—Tix. And then Ryan’s voice. But I can’t make out the words. I sneak closer to the open door.
“—she wasn’t happy for me at all. She seemed kind of bitter that I’d won.”
Wait. Is he talking about me? I wonder.
“Usually, people think she’s the leader of our duo because she’s the vocalist. But you saw how she did last night. She got too nervous and froze up. And I did way better in my performance.”
He is talking about me, I realize with a sudden burst of sadness.
“So you think she’s jealous?” Tix asks.
“She isn’t jealous. Eve isn’t like that. But maybe she’s disappointed. Because she isn’t the star of the show for once. I am.”
Wow. I slump against the wall. My emotions claw at my insides, leaping from anger to hurt to confusion all in a single second. Since when has Ryan thought that about me? He has always seemed like the star to me. Why would he say something so mean?
The only reason I can think of is that he’s also realized he doesn’t need me to become a star.
I slink back to my own team like a scolded dog. For the rest of the day, my voice stays stuck in my throat. Casey elbows me and asks if I flushed it down the toilet while I was in the bathroom. I give her a half-hearted smile.
That evening, there’s a knock on the door to my room. I open it to reveal Ryan in his pajamas. He grins maniacally. “Guess what the reward was for winning yesterday’s competition.”
I shrug and sit on my bed. “Does it have anything to do with your interview today?”
His face falls. “Huh?”
“I heard what you said about me.”
“Oh.” He laughs. “I only said that stuff because it adds drama to the show. That’s what they’re looking for in these interviews. They don’t care about the truth because the truth’s boring.”
“So you don’t actually think that I’m an attention hog?” I blurt out.
“No way,” he responds with a shrug.
I stand up, clearly frustrated. “Then why pretend that you do? You made me look like a selfish jerk.”
Ryan crosses his arms. “No, I didn’t. That’s all up to the editing team. If they want you to look like a nice person, trust me—you will. My interview will either make me look like a jerk, or that part won’t go on TV at all.”
“That doesn’t make it okay, Ryan! You really hurt my feelings.”
He frowns at my anger. “It’s just a game, Eve. We have to play it by their rules to win. Don’t you want us to win?”
I look away from him. Ryan scuffs his shoe against the carpet for a moment, and then leaves my room with a quiet, “Goodnight.”
Chapter
7
The next morning, I jump out of bed, throw on my clothes, and run to the studio. Tomorrow is the second el
imination round, and someone else is going home. I’m not going to let it be me: I deserve to stay, no matter what anyone, including Ryan, has to say about me.
At the studio, Cassandra calls us into a huddle. “All right, crew. Tomorrow’s challenge is going to be a little interesting. Peter’s team won last time, and their reward was the chance to assign songs to all the other teams to perform during the challenge. This is our song.” She presses play on the speakers.
A happy, jumpy beat starts to play. Then comes a high-pitched female vocalist whose joy is so sickly-sweet I can practically taste sugar. Casey and Delia pretend to gag. Lark’s eye twitches. And I glare at the speakers. This is exactly the annoying, cutesy pop I refuse to listen to. And Ryan knows it.
Oh, it’s on.
***
Delia smooths out her frilly lace skirt for the hundredth time. “I hate this.”
“Me too,” Casey moans, tugging at the sparkly ribbons in her jet-black hair.
“We have to play to win,” I tell them, even as I glare at the huge red heart printed on my neon pink dress.
It’s the night of the second elimination round, and the four of us are waiting to go onstage from behind the curtain. If we can’t sing the song well, then we’ll at least catch the judges’ eyes with our over-the-top popstar attire. I had Blair help us pick out the most ridiculous outfits she could find on the dressing room racks.
Then Tix announces our names, and we bound out to the cheers and laughter of the audience. The annoying pop music starts to play through the speakers over our heads. Behind us, the other contestants laugh at our outfits. Ryan’s jaw drops. But I don’t care what he thinks because I’m about to give it my all.
I sing my heart out, making my voice higher than it normally is to capture the spirit of the song. Lark also sings well for her part. Casey and Delia, however, struggle to hit the notes. They barely move, too embarrassed by their skirts and ribbons. The judges aren’t impressed.
Afterward, Ryan runs up to me on the catwalk, beaming. “Good job!” he exclaims.
“Yeah, I know,” I reply curtly.
He looks confused.
After every team has performed, Tix comes on the stage to announce the results. Since Ryan’s team had the advantage of picking songs, they go on to win for the second time in a row. And unfortunately, my team did the worst. He calls all of us forward. And just like that, Delia gets sent home.
Chapter
8
“You could have done something.” Casey glowers at me and Lark during practice the next morning. “You could have talked to Ryan or Asher—asked them to give us an easier song. You could have saved Delia.”
The cameras zoom in on our faces to catch our reactions. With Cassandra currently out of the room, I decide to roll my eyes. “The competition doesn’t work that way,” I say. “Ryan and I are on different teams now—I couldn’t ask him to do something like that even if I wanted to, and you know it. And besides, Ryan and I made a promise we wouldn’t go easy on each other.”
“Asher said he’d only help me if he gets something out of it too,” Lark says.
“Some friends you are,” Casey mutters, sniffling. Her makeup is a bit runny today.
With that, whatever sense of being a band we had before is gone. Casey spends the next few team practices getting in our way. She butts in and sings over me and Lark. She stands in front of us when we rehearse performances. She demands Cassandra make her the lead vocalist, muttering that she’s clearly the most passionate of us all.
Passionate or not, she doesn’t sync up with me and Lark at all. We go through another three elimination rounds, and our band always falls in second or third place. During the performances, Lark and I harmonize and play off each other’s voices. But Casey yells into the microphone and slams her bass. It’s a clashing wreck. Even Cassandra winces. Every round, we’re inches away from another of us getting sent home.
On top of that, there’s nothing we can do to beat Ryan’s team. With their incredible voices and dynamic dancing, they sweep the audience off their feet and win challenge after challenge.
After every elimination round, the producers interview each of the remaining competitors. In his interviews, Ryan brags about how much better than me he is. He lists off the instruments he can play, and when he shifts to me he claims I only play the guitar, ignoring that I sing too. In another interview, he points out it was his idea to audition for The Right Note. I’m sure the editors show this clip with the moment where Cassandra told me to be more passionate, so I end up looking like I don’t care as much as Ryan does. When Tix asks if Ryan wants me to get eliminated, Ryan shrugs and says, “I’m here to win. If I have to beat Eve, I will.”
In my own interviews, when the producers push me to criticize Ryan, I just tell them I want to talk about my own singing. “I’ve improved a lot since coming onto the show,” I say. “I’m really proud of that.”
With these interviews and the elimination rounds happening every three days and no time to rest in between because of vocal training and rehearsals, I feel myself burning out. I drag myself out of bed every morning and perform on autopilot. My excitement at getting closer to the final stages of the competition isn’t enough to counter the feeling that Ryan wants to see me lose. And with how well his team is doing, he just might get his wish granted.
Then, during their next performance, Ryan’s team finally messes up. As he dances, Ryan trips over Asher’s foot and crashes into another boy in their band. They both tumble across the stage, and the audience lets out a collective, “Ooh.” Ryan gets up immediately, but for the rest of the song his voice is shaky and flat. The other boy, mortified, can’t even let out a single note. The judges aren’t impressed. They give my team the win for the first time, and the boy from Ryan’s band is the sixth competitor to be eliminated.
As we head backstage, I overhear Ryan whisper angrily to Asher, “You tripped me on purpose.”
Asher laughs. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“We’re supposed to be a team,” Ryan protests, but Asher has already started walking away. I feel a surge of relief. Their team isn’t perfect after all.
I tell Lark what I saw, and she doesn’t look surprised. “Asher’s very competitive,” she says. “It sounds like he’s jealous of Ryan.”
Out of the corner of my eye is a flash of blond hair. Blair appears with a cameraman by her side. She pulls me aside and asks if I can give a quick interview. “Just one question this time,” she says.
All I want to do is go to bed, but I remember Ryan saying we have to play by the show’s rules if we want to win. “All right,” I say.
Blair nods. “Ryan has been saying he’s here to win. He wants to out-sing you. Do you think that’s possible?”
I blink at her, not really knowing what to say. Out-sing me? I think to myself. Did he really say that? I can’t believe it.
Blair senses my hesitation and presses me for an answer. “Which of you is the better singer?”
I think back to what Ryan said—this is all just a game. It’s all about keeping people interested and winning over the judges. If the show wants a conflict, then I’ll give them one. “I am,” I say, even if I don’t really believe it. “I’m the vocalist in our duo for a reason.”
“Ouch,” says Blair as she grins wickedly. I can tell this is exactly what she was looking for, and instantly I regret my words. But it’s already been recorded. It’s going to show up on TV, and everyone’s going to think it’s real.
***
Now that six of the competitors have been eliminated and only ten of us remain, the judges split up the teams. Moving forward, we will all perform as solo acts so the judges can assess our individual skills. We’ll still get to work with the same coach and continue with the eliminations as usual, but now only one contestant will win each challenge. We’ll compete until only four of us remain.
For the first solo challenge, we’re told to choose a slip of paper containing a song title
from a hat. While there are ten of us, there are only five song options—meaning each song will be performed by two people. It’s sort of a twisted version of duos, where now each pair of us must try to outshine each other. The song I pick is one I know well. Ryan’s face turns pale as he stares at his slip of paper. I see the title of his song . . . it’s the same as mine.
During the challenge, I perform to the best of my ability, hitting all the long notes and showing off my range. Ryan is less successful. His voice cracks when he goes high, and he doesn’t hit the right notes when he goes low. But he acts out the lyrics on stage like a play. He drops to one knee, pulls his fist to his chest dramatically. The audience loves it. They cheer loud—louder than they did for me.
Although neither of us win, we both make it through to the next round along with seven other contestants. The judges praise my singing and Ryan’s dancing, which gets on my nerves. “This is a singing competition,” I say in an interview after the performances. “Not a dance competition.”
As I exit the studio, I catch a glimpse of Ryan doing his own interview. “I can sing too,” he says, looking into the camera. “I’m not just a backup musician in our duo. I can do everything Eve can do and more.”
My stomach drops. I don’t think Ryan is a backup musician at all! We’re a duo. Partners. Right? I try telling myself he doesn’t really believe these things, but he looks so serious when he says it.
I cross my arms and think about what I’ve said to the cameras. The producers have been pushing us to compete with each other, instead of against the other duos, so maybe it’s all their fault that this is happening. But Ryan has also said some hurtful things without the producers asking him to. He started this whole mess.
Ryan continues, “Eve should be really worried about me as a competitor. The audience loves me way more than her. They always have.”
I clench my fists so hard my nails leave marks in my palms.
The next day, I practically waltz into the practice room. Lark stares at me as I spin on my toes and swoop my arms out like a ballerina.