Songbird

by Jamie Campbell

  “I know,” she took a deep breath. “We just need to go slow to go fast, right? Like the tortoise and the hare.”

  “Brierly, thank God! Praise the heavens!” Ryan called out as he met us in the corridor. He had my microphone in one hand and my earpiece in the other – all ready for our sound check. “I thought you’d been kidnapped by monsters and were lying on a railroad somewhere in the 1900s.”

  “Close,” I replied, laughing at his dramatics. “But more like regular traffic. Sorry, has everyone been waiting long?”

  “Oh, since forever. Now get your little butt out there and if there is a problem, I don’t want to know about it.” He pushed me toward the curtains. “Only kidding, if there is a problem I really do need to know about it. Opening night has to be perfect.”

  “Don’t remind me.” I left the corridor for the stage. The technicians were still putting the final touches on the construction and lighting. It was a big job, they had probably been up since the crack of dawn putting it all together. They had left L.A. a week ago to get here in time, hauling three busloads of equipment with them. The flight suddenly seemed like such a luxury.

  I took my mark – already taped to the floor in an X – and greeted my band. My eyes stopped when they reached Forest. Awkward didn’t even begin to describe it.

  Should I say something to him? Apologize? No, that would only give him a reason for thinking he still might have a shot. I needed to make sure he knew it was never going to happen. He would then be free to pick up as many groupies as he wanted. Even if the thought made me feel sick. Better they get their hearts broken than me, right?

  We did the sound check, making sure I didn’t turn around again. The entire time I could feel Forest’s eyes drilling into the back of me. He was probably so angry that I had blown him off for our drink without even an explanation. I hated the thought of anyone not liking me but that was going to be one cross I had to bear. It was for the greater good.

  The moment the sound check was done, I left the stage and headed for my dressing room. I was going to hide out in there for as long as possible. Nobody dared come into my room before a show. They knew it was the time I needed to prepare myself – both physically and mentally. It took a lot of nerve to get up on stage in front of thousands of people and entertain them for an hour and a half. Anything could happen with an audience, I needed to get in the zone.

  At least, that’s what people assumed. Really, I normally listened to music and played games on my phone. It was just a way to pass the time, not meditate on the meaning of life or anything.

  The best part of being backstage before a show was normally the food. I could literally request anything and they would make sure they stocked it for me. I had heard stories from my friends about all the crazy things they would order just to test whether they would get it. Everything from a bowl of only yellow M&M’s to apples cut into exactly sixteen wedges. They each got what they requested.

  My list – or rider as was known in the business – consisted of nothing except some fruit, a sandwich, raspberry lollipops, tea, and chocolate. I wasn’t even specific about what kind I wanted. I would have been happy with anything they gave me. Except for the tea, it had to be peach and orange. I needed it for my throat so I could sing without straining my vocal chords.

  Sure enough, waiting in my dressing room was what I requested. There was more than enough for one person and definitely more than enough for someone with a recovering eating disorder.

  I called Demi in to help me. She would eat anything. I picked up half of the salad sandwich and starting nibbling away on it.

  We spoke about everything but the show while we ate and pretended to get into the zone. Talking about the concert was even more stressful than doing it so she knew to keep my mind occupied.

  With only an hour to go until the show, my hair and makeup team arrived at my door. They attended to dressing me in the floor-length gown I was to wear for the opening portion. It was a beautiful scarlet red and cascaded down to the floor in an ocean of waves. I loved it, it was definitely a keeper. Hopefully I wouldn’t be too rough with it on stage or in the quick change.

  When my makeup was done, I was finished. I looked in the mirror. Besides being a little skinnier than I was for the last tour, I did still look like the Brierly Wilcox everyone knew. When I got up on that stage, nobody would be able to tell the difference. That was what I hoped, anyway.

  The ten minute buzzer sounded and I left the peaceful space of my dressing room to stand in the wings of the stage. The crowds in the stadium were screaming, they were so loud I wondered how they could hear anything out there.

  “Show circle!” Demi called, making all my dancers and band join me. It was supposed to be a tradition. All the performers would stand around in a circle and say a prayer or just a few words to pump each other up for the show. That was what it was supposed to be.

  However, I knew Demi’s secret. What she really did was a quick headcount to make sure everyone was there. She could quickly tell if anyone was missing. Plus, by putting us all in the one place, we would be able to get on stage in time. There would be no-one missing when it was time. She was a cunning woman, Demi, and I loved her for it.

  Everyone in the circle looked at me for direction. I hadn’t planned anything. I guessed I was going to have to think on my feet. “Thank you God for bringing us here tonight, please give us the strength and ability to entertain all those people out there. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they repeated. Asking for a bit of heavenly help seemed appropriate for our opening night. We would need any help we could get.

  As we waited and counted down the minutes, I couldn’t help but notice Forest standing with his guitar poised. He was purposely not looking at me. That wasn’t how I wanted my tour to go. I caved, tapping him on the shoulder.

  “Forest, can we talk for a second?” I asked, keeping my voice to just a whisper.

  “It’s fine, Brierly, don’t worry about it,” he replied tersely. His words might have said one thing but every inch of his tone and body told me another.

  The lights in the auditorium dimmed, ending any conversation we should have had. It was show time.

  Chapter Six

  Being on stage again was amazing. The moment I stepped out, it was like the past year had never happened. Nothing could energize my spirit like performing. I felt alive, happy, and invincible. While I was singing, I felt for sure that was where I belonged.

  It was only during the quick change or in the silent moments between songs did the doubts start creeping in. I had to push them away or they would consume me. The crowd were my battery, energizing and encouraging me to continue. They were awesome, way more than I deserved.

  Halfway through the set, my earpiece suddenly made an earsplitting screech. For a moment, I forgot my lyrics, needing to pull the damn thing out of my ear before I went deaf. I winced with the pain, trying to hear again over the audience’s screaming.

  I only missed a line but it was enough to completely throw me. I tried to continue, straining to listen to the band to find my place again. It was just so difficult to hear them over the audience and with my ear still reeling from the noise.

  I turned around, trying to get some guidance. I felt like a fool, probably looked like one too as I stood in the middle of the stage desperately.

  I glanced at the sound controllers, waving my hand slightly and letting them know I was having trouble. They understood my cue, instantly scrambling to fix my earpiece. I would have to do without it until the next quick change or everyone would know something was wrong.

  Doing a few little dance moves, I tried to pretend I was just really into the song. The audience wouldn’t buy it for too long before they knew I wasn’t singing for a reason. I could already see the scathing tweets about my terrible performance.

  I looked back again, trying desperately to get help from somewhere. Forest started mouthing the words to the song as he strummed, looking at me pointedly. I followed alon
g. I knew the song, I just couldn’t hear where they were up to with the music. Everything else was just so loud.

  If I was reading his lips correctly, they had just started the chorus. It was now or never. I put the microphone back up to my lips and started belting out the chorus. The crowd screamed, hopefully in a good way.

  I picked up my cue and slotted back into the routine. I finished when the band did – thankfully. I walked back to the stage, getting closer to the band so I could hear them better. Ryan would be having a heart attack backstage.

  We continued on for another three songs that way. I could only pray that I was staying in time with the music. The audience were louder than ever before, I was sure of it. They screamed at every movement I made, every big note, and every time I looked to their section.

  At quick change time, my earpiece was replaced with another and quickly tested. It made the change not so fast but at least I would be able to hear again.

  “Good work, Brierly,” Ryan said as I passed him. He patted me on the back, perhaps I wasn’t doing such a terrible job as I had thought. I took a few deep breaths as I waited for the stage lights to come up again.

  It would have been nice to think that was the only hiccup in the entire show, but it wasn’t. After the earpiece incident, it seemed everything started going wrong. I almost had a wardrobe malfunction when I stepped on the hem of my own dress and only just avoided falling into the audience, one of the lights went out, leaving me in the dark during a ballad, and I collided with my dancers on more than one occasion. It felt like I was putting on an amateur show and I was sure everyone in the audience noticed too.

  After the final curtain, I ran back to my dressing room. I didn’t want to see the disappointing looks on anyone’s face. I had blown it on the first night. All those critics that would have been in the audience were now on their way home, ready to write about how awful the show was. I may as well just cancel the rest of the tour. People would probably start demanding their money back.

  A knock on the door interrupted my silent sulking. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but Demi came in anyway. “What are you doing back here?”

  “Hiding.”

  “From what?”

  “From my humiliation,” I replied, like it should have been obvious. She saw the entire show, she should have known.

  “You have nothing to be humiliated about,” she said, perching on the table next to me. “The show was awesome. People are still outside wanting more. They refused to leave, we had to get security just to get them out of the auditorium.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Tonight was a huge success, Brierly. You should be so proud of yourself.”

  “But the mistakes…”

  “You mean the few interesting things that happened that all those girls can go home and blog about because it’s unique to their experience? Girls love those kinds of things. It’s a nice little story for them to tell. The main thing is you didn’t let any of it faze you. You pulled through.”

  I didn’t want to admit how much it did faze me at the time. “You really think the show was that good?”

  “It was awesome. Everybody thought so. But we’re going to have to take up the hem on your sparkle dress. I don’t want you landing on any audience members in the future.” She smiled warmly, probably not joking. “And they’ve already worked out the problem with your earpiece. It will be fixed by tomorrow night.”

  I felt like crying with relief. I really was my own worst critic when it came to everything I did. “Let’s go to the hotel then. I want to be rested for tomorrow’s performance. It’s going to be great.”

  Demi patted my arm and waited for me to change. She led me through the maze until we reached the door we had originally entered through. Just across the pathway was my waiting town car. The problem was, to get to it I had to go through a dozen screaming girls.

  Demi took charge, getting them to stand back. For such a little woman, she certainly knew how to exude power. They followed her directions like scared little mice.

  “It’s okay, Demi. Did you girls enjoy the show?” They squealed, I took that as confirmation. “I’m so glad.”

  “Can I have your autograph?” One of the little girls said, her mother waiting in the wings patiently.

  “Of course,” I replied. It took me half an hour to cross the pathway. I signed whatever they had and posed for photographs with them. It was the least I could do, who knew how long they had stood out in the night waiting for me.

  Back at the hotel, I was finally alone for the first time all day. Everything was so quiet in the room – too quiet. Normally after a show, especially opening night, we would all go out together to celebrate. Considering my new state that tended to make everyone feel awkward around me, everyone decided to go their separate ways.

  I knew there was no point in trying to sleep, I would only toss and turn for the entire night. I needed to do something to calm down or the adrenalin was going to be coursing around my veins all night.

  Unfortunately, my feet moved faster than my brain and I found myself knocking on someone’s door that I really shouldn’t have.

  “Brierly, what’s up?” Forest said as he answered. He had changed into a pair of jeans and an old grey t-shirt. Even in his tatty clothes, he looked hot. I totally shouldn’t have gone there.

  “I can’t sleep,” I replied simply. It was the truth and I didn’t even know why I was there so I couldn’t elaborate on it.

  He looked me up and down before stepping away from the door to let me in. His hotel room was just like mine except smaller. I guessed there were some perks to being the name on all the posters.

  “How about some chamomile tea?” Forest asked, holding up the little complimentary box of teas. I nodded and he started pouring two cups.

  “So much for the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll,” I commented. Once, I would have been out partying until my next show. Then I would throw myself in the shower, dress, and do it all again. I’m sure I did half of my last tour completely drunk. Now my drink of choice was tea.

  “It’s overrated anyway.” Forest smiled as he handed me a mug and sat on the small sofa with me. His knee was touching my own, an inevitability in the small room. Still, it distracted me momentarily. “Why can’t you sleep?”

  “We survived opening night, I’m still buzzing about it. One day down, only about a hundred left to go.”

  “A hundred shows? Wait, I only signed up for twenty.” My eyes shot up to meet his before his lips curled into a grin. “Joking.”

  I punched him on the arm lightly for his attempt, like I wasn’t on edge enough. “You shouldn’t do that to me.”

  It was so quiet in the room that our sips sounded loud. Considering I didn’t know what I was doing there, I didn’t know what I should be saying.

  “You were awesome tonight,” Forest said, breaking the silence. “You know, in case nobody has told you that yet. With all the things that went wrong, you still nailed it.”

  “Thanks to you. If it wasn’t for your help, I would totally have lost my place in the second set.”

  “I didn’t do anything, it was all you.”

  Before I started blushing, I changed the subject. “Do you think the fans enjoyed the show? Like, really?”

  “I think they loved it. In every quick change, they were going nuts for you. I’ve never seen so many hyped up teenagers in one place before.”

  “Did you see Marty get tied up in his guitar lead?” I giggled, fearing the chamomile tea was actually having the opposite effect of what it was supposed to.

  Forest started laughing too. “It took him half a song just to get untangled.”

  “When I saw him, I almost forgot the words. I would have laughed if I didn’t want to cry.”

  We laughed together. Forest had a cute little giggle, manly but authentic at the same time. I could have listened to it all night.

  However, in the next instance, our lips were on each other. With no warning whatsoeve
r, we were kissing uncontrollably. His lips were hungry on my own, delving deeper and deeper with every second that passed. Forest’s arms snaked around me, pulling me even nearer. I was pressed up against his chest, so close I could practically feel his heart pounding away. Or perhaps it was just my own, there was no way to distinguish it.

  My brain finally caught up to my body, switching back on. I pushed Forest away, trying to get my breath back again. “I have to go.” I stood, not looking him in the eyes. If he said anything, I didn’t hear him. I was out that door in under three seconds flat.

  I ran back to my room and closed the door, leaning against it quickly in case I changed my mind. What the hell was I doing? It was everything I told myself I shouldn’t do. Yet there I was, on day one of the tour, and already breaking my own rules.

  The worst thing was, I enjoyed it. If I didn’t come to my senses, then who knows how far I would have gone with Forest? If he was as great in bed as he was kissing, then I probably wouldn’t have been vertical for a long time.

  Argh. I hit my forehead, trying to beat some sense back into my head. If Demi found out I was thinking like this, she would play some major interference. She would make it her mission to keep me away from Forest.

  Perhaps that’s what I needed, someone to make all the decisions for me. It had worked well last year in the hospital.

  But I knew Demi could never find out. Everything in the next year depended on me staying sane. And just like my therapist said, I had to be responsible for my own actions.

  I had to give myself a self imposed ban on Forest. No spending time with him alone, no talking to him without other people being present, and definitely no kissing. All hands and other contact was off limits.

  When I awoke the next day, I was still determined to stick to the rules. I got up at the crack of dawn and padded down to the waiting bus. We were leaving New York, and hopefully the incident from last night, behind.