by JS Taylor
No missed calls. No texts.
“I’m leaving my phone here,” I decide. “I’ll only be checking it right up till the last moment. It will drive me crazy.”
“You’re sure?” asks Adam.
I nod.
“It’s too late for Tammy and George now anyway,” I say. “And I’ll be more upset, going on stage, knowing they’re still mad. At least this way I can pretend they might have relented. I can be more focused.”
“That’s my girl,” says Adam proudly. He looks over to Lisa, who is hanging up her phone.
She nods at him.
It’s done then. I’m booked to perform solo.
Unexpectedly, I feel a surge of excitement.
“Come on,” says Adam, taking my hand. “The other acts will already be at the TV studio. Time to get you to your gig.”
Chapter 38
We arrive at the TV studios in a rush. All the other acts have been here over an hour, and are dressed and stage ready.
The show is already starting, but I’m not on until last. Adam and Lisa decided extra rehearsal time was more important, so we pushed things right until the last minute.
Jenny Grogan, however, does not agree with this policy. She is in high dudgeon as she drags me to the dressing room, barking orders at me to get ready fast.
“Everything to do with you causes trouble,” she accuses, as a parting shot, as she flings me into the dressing room. “We’ve had to change the whole show format for you young lady. I just hope it was worth it.”
As Jenny clacks away down the corridor, I take in my room.
There’s a blue sequinned dress on a hanger. I smile.
I guess this is the costume Lisa arranged for me.
I hold up the dress. It’s short, with a large slash across the midriff. As I pull it on, I can hear the faint sound of Scandelous singing.
Shit. I really am late. The acts have already started performing.
Moving quickly, I zip the dress, and glance at myself in the mirror.
Oooo. I love it!
I could kiss Lisa. I think this is one of her old stage outfits from years ago. But it’s timeless, and totally suits my style.
The dress is a stunning flash of bright blue sequin, which skims my butt, and slices a revealing slash from under my bust to across my hips.
Adam won’t like this. I decide. But I love it.
“Cute dress,” says a voice from the doorway. I glance up to see Lisa, smiling at me.
“I love it,” I grin. “Thank you.”
“Think you’ll have time to fix your hair and make-up?” she asks. “You’ve got another three acts before you’re on.”
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing a brush and mascara. “I’m used to getting myself stage ready,” I add.
Lisa nods approvingly. “Like me when I started out.”
She pauses, taking me in.
“Give it your all Summer,” she says. “I always said you were made to sing solo.” She gives me an encouraging smile, and I return it gratefully, feeling a little stronger.
Then she sweeps out of the dressing room, leaving me to apply glittering blue eye-shadow, and tease my hair into something approaching a style.
I’m done with my hair and make-up, as I hear Dev.as.station performing. The sounds of Seventh Heaven had already filtered into the dressing room, as I was putting the finishing touches to my look.
One more act.
Deven is next. Then me.
I take a quick look in the mirror.
Not perfect. I could use some accessories. But it’s good enough.
Time to head to backstage.
Chapter 39
Adam is waiting for me, as I scurry backstage and take my place in the wings.
I beam to see him.
“Are you allowed to be back here?” I whisper.
“Probably not. But I forgot to give you something,” he says.
“You did?”
He takes my wrist, and clips on the beautiful bracelet he bought me from Tiffany’s.
“A perfect fit,” he says approvingly.
I study the bracelet. The deep colour matches with my blue sequins.
“I love it,” I say, “Thank you. It matches my dress too.”
Adam steps back, taking in my outfit for the first time.
“You’re not going on stage like that.” he glowers.
“You’re kidding me?” I look down at my skimpy outfit.
“No way,” he says. “Am I letting you on stage in that attire.”
I’m caught between annoyance and affection.
“I’m due on stage in about a minute,” I remind him. “You’ll have to put up with it.”
He frowns. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Adam approaches me, and takes me firmly by the hips.
“I should be the only one who gets to see this.” He moves tight against my body, running his hand over my bare stomach.
I shiver.
“You can’t tell me what to wear,” I protest, trying to pretend his words aren’t having an effect on me. “Lisa picked this out for me especially.”
I push him away glancing out onto the stage.
Deven’s song is coming to an end.
Adam scowls at me.
“I promise you there’ll be consequences later,” he says, low enough for me to hear.
Oh! Consequences… I remember those.
The thought gives me a little thrill. Although really I have enough to contend with – without Mr Caveman putting last minute dress restrictions on me.
“Fine,” I agree. “Have it your way.”
His bad temper seems to instantly dissipate at this. I swear I can see his mind working out what he’s going to do to me later.
Deven is finishing his song. I’m next. And the lust which Adam has managed to spark is washed away by sudden nerves.
“I don’t know how I can sing for those people,” I admit, “it doesn’t feel right without Tammy and George.”
Adam’s face softens. He strokes my face gently.
“You don’t have to sing for them Summer,” says Adam, taking my chin in his hands. “Sing for me.”
I nod, feeling a kind of calmness descend.
It’s ironic. A few years ago, I would have given anything to be singing in front of a huge TV audience.
Now, without my girls with me, I feel a sense of emptiness. I can’t stand to think of them watching on.
The audience explode in applause, and I realise Deven’s song has ended.
Adam nods to the stage, and then picks up my guitar.
“You’re up.” He hangs it gently over my shoulder.
My heart is in my mouth.
Adam gives me a final kiss.
“Knock ’em dead.”
I smile. “I’ll do my best.”
The fanfare sounds, and instead of She’s All That, it’s only my name, which is announced.
Summer Evans!
It’s enough to thrill me, and fill me with guilt at the same time.
Come on Summer, I urge myself. All your life you’ve wanted this.
Somehow I manage to put one foot in front of the other, and make it out onto the stage.
The guitar around my shoulder feels like a welcome shield.
I don’t get a huge cheer like the other acts. I guess they’re not quite sure what to make of my sudden solo performance.
There’s a vapour smell, as dry ice is pumped onto the stage. And the lights swing towards me, dazzling. Applause rings out, polite rather than enthusiastic.
It’s like they’re challenging me to justify my solo appearance.
Come on Summer! I urge myself. Show them what you can do!
With a practised hand I take the microphone. And as soon as it’s in my grip I feel more comfortable.
But as the stage nerves subside, I’m struck by a deep sudden knowledge.
I can’t sing the song we rehearsed. I need to show them how I really feel.
&nbs
p; I can’t be someone else up here, pretending the split doesn’t matter.
I can only be me. And the real me is hurting.
The realisation brings clarity. I grip the mike firmly.
“I guess you’ve all heard,” I say, in a voice to cut through the crowd’s applause. “That She’s All That have split up.”
My words bring a silence to the crowd. They’re suddenly more interested than before.
“I’m not going to pretend I’m fine with it,” I continue. “Those girls meant everything to me. I never thought I’d be standing here without them.”
My voice chokes a little, but I rally.
“So I’m not gonna pretend everything’s all right,” I continue, “and sing the song She’s All That rehearsed.”
I look down at the guitar, and take it in my hands.
“I’m gonna sing you something else,” I say. “This song says how I really feel.”
I pause.
“This is for Tammy and George.”
There’s a deathly hush now. I signal to the sound crew that I don’t want them to lead in with my dance song. And I see them open-mouthed in confusion and horror.
I know what I need to sing.
I’m going to sing the song I wrote when I was fifteen. For the boy who broke my heart. But this time it means so much more.
As I strum my guitar, I see the sound crew leap into action. After the first chord sounds out, I can hear they’ve adjusted the equipment to follow this new acoustic number.
Closing my eyes, I let my thoughts drift to George and Tammy, and what they mean to me.
And then I sing.
If I could take heaven in my hand
And all the stars too
If I could take down the moon
And give it to you
I would make you stay
Please stay.
But my hands are too small
To hold heaven tight
And all those stars and moonbeams
They won’t come down at night
So all I have is this small voice
Urging you true
Don’t go. Please don’t go.
I open my eyes, and let the tears come. And in this moment I am the song. My words are part of my body. All I want is for Tammy and George to know how I feel.
That I never wanted them to go.
I move softly into the chorus, feeling my way, sounding out every note to represent the way I feel inside.
I hardly register the audience’s reaction as I play through the song. All that matters is I deliver this message.
And as I slide to the end of the final note, I feel purged.
I’ve done what I set out to do. I’ve told Tammy and George how I feel, in the best way I know.
It’s all I’ve got.
There’s a stunned silence as my last chord fades. And for a moment I think the audience didn’t like the song. Then I see shocked faces settled into amazement, and slow applause ramps up to a shockwave of noise.
“Thank you very much,” I gasp gratefully, bowing. The clapping get louder. Cheers begin to echo out.
Suddenly it’s all too much. I just want to get off stage.
I turn and walk quickly away, my guitar bouncing at my hip.
Chapter 40
Adam is the first thing I see as I exit the stage, and I rush gratefully into his arms.
“That was beautiful,” he assures me. “Truly. You’ve a gift Summer. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.”
I pull back to see Lisa standing behind. I’m suddenly a little nervous what she might think. I did ditch her advice, after all.
But she steps forward and hugs me too.
“You did great,” she says. “You were right to sing about how you really felt. I’m proud of you. Come on,” she adds, “we all need to get to our places. The votes will be in soon.”
There’s a showbiz rush as we’re all shepherded into our various places. The judges take their seats. And I’m jostled in amongst the other acts, to take our place in the spotlight.
The audience are cheering to see us all back on stage. But it all feels like white noise. I’m wondering if my song did what I wanted it to. If it convinced Tammy and George to forgive me.
As the votes start to come in I feel the familiar drumbeat of anxiety in my stomach. The cheers of the crowd wave over me like white noise. And I hardly feel like I’m present. The hot stage lights are melting me.
I’m only half aware, when the votes start coming in, and the results flash up on the screen in front of us. Adam sits before me in the judging panel, and I use him as an anchor, keeping my gaze steadily fixed on him.
Halfway through the votes, a chorus of boos and jeers rise up, and I blink back to semi-reality. Dev.as.station have been voted out, I realise with dismay.
I’m shocked, but no-one else looks surprised. The boys and Cher nod as though they were expecting the news, and voice their thanks to the show with humility.
I feel a surge of affection for them, and wonder if they’ll keep in touch.
Perhaps Tammy will join their group now. She always did get along well with Cher.
Then comes the next vote. Seventh Heaven. I don’t even remember hearing how they performed. But if past performances are anything to go by, it doesn’t matter. They’ll get through no matter what.
The vote rigging means this week is a double vote-off. So someone else has to go. But my prediction is, it won’t be Seventh Heaven.
My eyes drift to the other acts. Dev.as.station are leaving the stage in a long dejected convoy. Scandelous are only a few feet away. The girls look sick and frightened. I guess they think they’re next.
Only Deven looks confident.
He is such a slimebag.
I find myself wishing he’ll be the one voted off. It would be fair, after all.
The crowd erupt suddenly, and my eyes flash to the scoreboard, expecting to see Seventh Heaven with some mammoth vote. But to my amazement, there’s a completely unexpected three letter word by their name.
The scoreboard reads: Seventh Heaven. Out.
Wow. I didn’t expect that.
Even Deven looks surprised.
Scandelous are screaming and hugging each other, bouncing up and down on the spot. And it slowly dawns on me what this means.
I’m through.
The realisation comes with less emotion than I thought it might. But I smile, and wait for my turn with the judge’s feedback.
“Summer, I think you’re made for solo,” Lisa says, as the spotlight swings to me. “I always said it, and you proved it to us tonight.”
The audience clap and cheer.
“I agree with Lisa,” says Adam. “You were incredible Summer. Mesmerising. Even more so now we’re hearing you alone.”
I force a smile at the clapping audience, and when it’s finally time to leave the voting announcement, I almost sprint off the stage.
I can hear Scandelous behind me, screaming in glee. All I want to do is talk to Tammy and George. And they’re not here.
I’ve gained the world and lost my best friends, I think, wryly.
I shuffle dejectedly to the dressing room at the back, and am relieved when none of the other acts follow.
But then there’s a knock at the door.
It opens and I smile to see Adam. He’s the only person I want to see right now.
“Well,” he says, “as expected, you’re through.”
“Thanks,” I say dejectedly.
“Then why so sad?”
“You know why,” I sigh. “It all means nothing, if Tammy and George hate me. They’re my girls. We’re meant to be in this together. It doesn’t mean anything alone.”
Adam nods thoughtfully, and then removes something from his pocket.
“Perhaps you’d better check your phone,” he says.
I stare at him in surprise.
“I thought you might want it after all,” he adds, handing it to me.
I check
the display out of habit, and my heart leaps. Both Tammy and George have called. And left messages.
I click them open, and tears well in my eyes.
The messages are of support, telling me how beautiful the song was. How pleased they are that I’m through.
They’ve forgiven me.
They understood the song.
I glance up at Adam, thrilled. He smiles widely.
“So I guess it’s all sorted?”
I nod happily. “I hope so.”
Quickly I call Tammy. I’m so relieved when she picks up I start crying all over again.
“I’m so sorry Tams,” I blurt. “I know what that letter looked like. It was stupid and…”
“It’s ok,” says Tammy. “I get it. I…” she sighs. “When you sung that song Summer, I knew how much we meant to you. You always had that gift,” she adds sadly. “To make people understand feelings through music.”
“So you’ll come back,” I babble. “We’ll perform next week?”
“I can’t do that Summer,” says Tammy.
My heart sinks.
“You can’t forgive me?” I manage.
“It’s not that at all,” Tammy says softly. “George and I have talked. A lot. We can’t come back, because we love you too much.”
“What do you mean?” I demand, clutching the phone.
Why won’t they come back?
“You were always meant for solo,” says Tammy gently. “After tonight’s performance. It was just obvious. We’d be holding you back Summer.”
“You wouldn’t!” I cry, “I need you both.”
“Your voice needs to shine,” says Tammy. “It’s for the best.”
I’m choked up with emotion.
Still holding the phone, I glance at Adam. Something in his face tells me to stop fighting this. Maybe Tammy is right.
“But what about you?” I manage.
“I’ve spoken to Cher,” says Tammy. “I’ll be auditioning for Dev.as.station tomorrow. I reckon I’ve got a good chance. And George. Well, you know George. This was only ever a stopgap for her. She’s going to travel the world. Spend her big trust fund.”
I sigh out, thinking this over.
It does make a kind of sense, I guess.
“We love you Summer,” says Tammy softly. “We’ll always be your biggest fans. Just make sure we get backstage passes when you’re world famous. Ok?”