He closed her eyes. Vy appeared from the darkness.
"I'll be there."
He let the shower run for a long time, as cold as he could stand it, remembering the night he'd been pelted by that October rain. The first and last time he'd been close to her. The first and last time he had kissed her.
#
His practice with Wanderlust ran late that Thursday. He jumped into a cab and ordered her the dozen black roses during the ride to Dusk.
Vy's set had already started when he got there. Jeanne led him to his dark nook
"Tea?" she asked in a whisper.
"Scotch," he answered, looking at the siren on the stage.
She wore more lace than leather that night. Mostly black, but there were some white details on her lacy and partly see-through top.
She included a few Wanderlust songs between the other classic rock songs she sang. He wasn't surprised when at the end, she did that heart stopping, mind melting version of his Dark Dream. He couldn't help imagining what a duet with her on that song might sound like.
The cheers and whistles brought him out of his fantasy.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Vy said. "You have a very special privilege. You will be the first to hear a song from my new album. I hope you will love it as much as I do. For the first time outside the confines of a music studio: Light Dream."
He took a sip of his scotch. It burned down his throat every bit as much as in his heart burned the anger that Carter had written her a song to replace his. She didn't need to say it was one of Carter's. That was just the sort of thing a vengeful jerk like Tim would do. A Light Dream to replace the Dark Dream
Despite himself, he fell into the song. The melody was the perfect gold setting for the flawless diamond that was her voice. She sang to him about the renewal of love, hope and destiny. She told him the story of a love meant to be. The simplest and most beautiful story in the world. The final lyrics hit him hard.
He bears scars but he's new to me.
He may be a hero
or maybe he's a prince.
I know he's mine from the very first kiss.
End of Book 1
LIGHT DREAM
Vy
She left the black roses in her car. She had asked about them, but the people at the club only knew they had been delivered by Magnifique. The Magnifique website was stunningly beautiful and head-spinningly expensive. That took Philippe off the list of suspects. Most likely they were from Carter, and he probably waited for her to talk about it.
She told Carter everything, but she never mentioned the roses.
Half an hour after leaving Dusk, she sauntered into Carter's control room, and flopped onto her favorite chair, without greeting him. He wouldn't reply anyway. She spun around a few times, idly scrolling through social media on her phone, until she got dizzy. She arranged and rearranged the height of the chair, knowing that it was going to screech loudly.
No reaction from Carter.
She ordered pizza from her favorite all-night takeaway place, saying aloud all the ingredients Carter hated. She rolled her chair all the way next to him. She craned her neck and shoved her face as close as possible, short of smushing it into his arm. She watched the hairs on his arm move with her breath.
"I have a new project for you," he said, without turning his head.
He sounded sickeningly faint. Vy's heart shrunk. She hadn't heard him sing in weeks. The Waves kept working on their new album behind closed doors. She was booked all across Illyria thanks to Carter's agent. Always alone. The Waves hadn't had a live gig since New Year's. Two months to the day.
She hoped this was the beginning of another mind game. She couldn't accept anything being wrong with Carter. Hating him was too much fun.
She pushed her chair back until it hit the wall.
"I want you to sing with the Waves in Viaverde. At the Summer Festival."
"The one in July?"
"It's the only one," he said without the bite of derision she expected for her stupid question.
"Why?"
"Because no one expects it. I talked to the band already."
"Wait, what? You're serious?!"
He handed her a music sheet. "This song, I want us to sing this one together."
She recognized the song immediately. "The one who got away". One of his earliest hits. A difficult song that Carter hadn't sung in years. She knew it and hated it. The lyrics were uncomfortable in their honesty.
She wanted to make fun of him for being so serious. She scrambled for a joke that would break the tension. She had no idea what had happened to him, but the impulse to hug him overcame any other ideas. She rolled her chair back to him and put her arms around his bony shoulders.
He pushed her away gently. "Don't get mushy on me."
She didn't have a clue what was going on, but she knew his voice as well as she knew her own. And something was definitely wrong there, but for once, she didn't want to know.
"And since it's a long way until July," he said. "This should occupy your time until we start practice."
He handed her a printed email. The IBC logo made her cringe. What now?
"Celebrity Jungle?" she exclaimed. "You want me to go on Celebrity Jungle?"
"Don't tell me you're afraid."
She snorted loudly, not even deigning that slur with a reply.
"I can't think of a single person more suitable to be on that show," he said. He watched her with that intense gaze that drilled all the way into her soul. "Do you have anyone more pressing to do?"
"You're such an asshole," she said.
"It takes one to know one."
"I am a perfectly nice person, thank you very much," she said tartly.
"Sure you are," he said, irony dripping off his venomous tongue. "The show starts on Monday and filming is only four weeks. You won't even have time to miss me."
"I wouldn't have time to miss you on a trip to Mars."
He pressed his hands over his heart, pretending he'd been pierced by an arrow.
She felt better to see him clowning around. His offer to sing with the Waves had shaken her deeply. Flying to some godforsaken place where IBC filmed that crazy show, eating insects and sleeping in tents could make for a nice vacation compared to life as Carter's apprentice.
#
Two days into the shoot, she realized that Carter had been wrong about one thing. She already missed him. She missed listening to him talk about music. She missed the sound of Dirty Thursday on her phone when he called her to the studio in the middle of the night. She even missed the disappointment in his eyes when she didn't sing the way he wanted her.
Three weeks into the shoot, she was the only one out of the ten contestants who seemed to enjoy living in the tropical hell hole. She was getting adept at skewering cockroaches and spiders with cutlery, and hitting annoyingly loud nocturnal birds with stones until they flew away.
Late one evening, Melinda Wilmotte, the weather girl from the morning show, was peeling the potatoes from the last box of provisions dropped by the production company. Vy was across from her, dicing them, when she saw the snake slithering toward Melinda.
She could shoo the creature away, but she decided it was a good time to try the technique they learned during the basic preparation. They hadn't had animal protein in a long time, and as far as she knew most snakes were edible. She stood up slowly, and took a few slow steps toward the snake.
"What the hell are you doing?" Melinda asked.
Vy ignored her, and focused on the snake. When Melinda followed her gaze, she yelped, dropped the knife and ran. The snake got spooked and slithered through the grass like a ribbon of black quicksilver. Vy's hand darted and caught its tail. She immediately started to drag it backwards slowly, then gently put her foot a few inches behind its head.
On the far side of the clearing, she was aware of people gathering, but she focused on the little creature. She bent at the waist and in a smooth move she caught its head in a light but firm gri
p. It was cold and slimy to the touch but it wasn't disgust that changed her mind. The creepy little thing seemed scared and vulnerable.
She walked to the edge of the clearing that served as their base camp, and released the snake back into the woods.
"There you go, Mister Snake," she whispered. "Stay away from us humans from now on."
A round of applause greeted her when she walked back into the campsite. She took off her straw hat and executed a perfect courtly bow. When she straightened up, she noticed that apart from her fellow contestants, Randall Storm, the show's presenter, was also there, with a film crew.
"That's a hell of a welcome," Storm said, still applauding.
"What's wrong?" she asked immediately.
They still had another full day of isolation until Storm was supposed to show up in person. Until then, they got their tasks through the PA system, and they were filmed by the fixed cameras.
"Nothing's wrong," Storm said. "Come on, gather around the fire everyone."
Vy wiped her palms on her cargo pants and sat down cross-legged on the grass, with her face away from the cameras. Storm was going to have another surprise for them, and she hated getting her first reactions on camera. She'd seen the last few seasons of Celebrity Jungle as preparation for the show, and she was sure that there were more cameras than the ones they could see. She'd "accidentally" stepped on a couple of them.
"You have five more days, and it's still all to play for," Storm said.
Vy tried not to smirk. On points alone, she was way in front of the others. She'd scored more points than anyone else, taking on the toughest tasks, and volunteering for all the bonus challenges. But she'd learned enough about how IBC needed to inject drama in their shows to know that they were about to mess with the ranking.
"We brought a very special guest, who will stay with you for the rest of the competition. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Celebrity Jungle, rock royalty, Mr. Andrew King."
The man stepped from the shadow of the thick forest and sat on the chair next to Storm.
Un-freaking-believable! They had brought the one person who could mess up her concentration. She wondered if Carter knew about it. She shook herself. Carter couldn't know that Andrew King was her kryptonite.
She glanced at him, and his head immediately turned, catching her eyes before she could pretend she was looking at Storm.
Andrew
When IBC contacted him to be on the show, he'd said no as soon he read the list of contestants. The temptation to say yes was too strong, and it had nothing to do with his need to protect her. After the dozens of stories about Vy pulling crazy courageous stunts, he didn't doubt she'd be in her element on this show.
Carter's visit had come as the real shock. He could see how much it was costing his lifelong rival to ask for his help.
"IBC wants to rig the game," Carter said. "They'll introduce a new element in the Jungle because she's far ahead on points since week two. They're worried the audience will stop watching when they see there's a clear winner."
"Why do you want me to go?" he asked, knowing that Carter was well connected in IBC and he must have had a hand in their offer to be there.
Carter forced the words through clenched teeth. "Because you'll be fair."
"I already turned them down," he said.
"Tell them you changed your mind." Carter stood up, and paced slowly across the room. "I told her to go. She thinks she's brave and she can take it, but when they will mess with the rules, she will be heartbroken. I don't want her to become jaded."
"Very noble of you."
"Fuck you."
"Are you still trying to persuade me to go on the show?" he asked, amused yet weary of Carter's distress.
"Yes. Listen," Carter said then remained silent for a long time. "I have some health issues, and she needs to be strong. She needs this win."
"What health issues?"
Carter shook his head. "I'm in treatment. I have a decent fighting chance."
For a moment, he wondered if Tim was lying. In the end, it didn't even matter. IBC had manipulated the audience's perception of Vy on Sing. They had done far worse things to him all those years ago. If he could help the girl, he should.
That was how he got to Celebrity Jungle in time to watch Vy Cesara catch a snake with her bare hands.
They had given him the script only when he got on the plane, and when he read the challenges he was supposed to introduce in their lives, he was glad he accepted.
After Storm's speech, he stood up and walked to the refrigerator plastered with the logos of the show's sponsor. The fridge was chest-high and it was wider than himself.
He read aloud the first challenge.
"You all know the lake teaming with fish and water snakes north of the camp. In that lake, there is a locked chest. Inside the chest there is the key that can open this." He slapped his hand on the fridge. "For a hundred points and all the delicious food inside, the volunteers-"
Vy's hand shot up. He went on speaking.
"-will have to cross the jungle using only the compass in their basic kit, follow the clues to find the key to the chest, swim under the water of the lake and open the treasure chest, then run back with the second key. Whoever has the shortest overall time, gets the points. Who else is signing on for this?" he asked, after nodding at her to acknowledge her waving hand.
"I'll do it," Dorian said.
He was one of the three people below Vy. If he made it, the hundred points at stake would close the gap. The other two guys who still had a chance to win, also raised their hands.
"All right people. We have four contestants," he said. "Get a good night sleep. It's a long way to the lake. It starts at dawn."
He waited for the director to wrap the filming, and went back to his chair next to Storm.
"Did you change your mind?" Storm asked.
"They said I could take part in any of the challenges," he said with a shrug.
"For what it's worth, I hope you don't win," Storm said. "You're the only one who can share the food with them, and that doesn't make for good TV."
At least he was honest about it. Storm shook his hand and left with the TV crew. They probably didn't have to worry about him winning. He hadn't done anything more taxing than his gym routine in years. He couldn't even remember when he'd last swam into anything other than an indoor pool.
While they filmed, someone had set up his tent. It looked like a small sturdy cabin compared to the squat and flimsy tents in which the contestants slept. He was contractually obligated to spend time with them outside the challenges, so he went and sat in the grass, next to them.
"Want some?" Dorian asked, offering him a plastic plate with some fried potatoes.
He shook his head. "I ate on the plane."
"What's the catch?" Shane Matthews asked.
Shane was one of the three men competing the next day.
"You find the challenge too easy?" he asked, not allowed to tell them that the catch was that if the winner shared the food with the others, he, or most likely she, would lose a hundred points.
"There's always a catch," Vy said.
Melinda puffed derisively through her nose. "You're the one to talk?" she said. "You always win."
"Yeah, Vy," Shane said. "You don't seem to be scared of anything we had to face so far. Did you lie on the interview? When they asked us what our worst fears are?"
Vy shrugged. "Nope," she said. "I don't like spiders or snakes or bathing in cold water, but I'm just not afraid of these things. I'm not afraid of heights, or the dark, or things that go bump in the night. I'm just... not."
"What are you afraid of?" Dorian asked.
That was an excellent question. He was afraid for her.
"I'm afraid of flying. But I still do it." She turned to look at him. "I was afraid of losing Sing."
"Yeah, like that matters any more," Dorian chimed in. "TC is parading you all over Illyria."
"And he is writing me beautiful son
gs," she said. "But that doesn't change the fact that I lost. It matters to me."
It mattered to her because it mattered to Carter. The bond between Vy and Carter had grown strong. He had noticed it in the way she sang on stage. Carter had confirmed it when he had asked for his help. It went beyond a sexual connection or even a romantic attachment.
He was strangely relieved. Carter was better for Vy than he would have been. For all Carter's faults, he hadn't done any of the things Andrew himself had done or dreamed of doing with Vy. He didn't know where that belief came from, but it made his heart feel lighter than it had in ages.
Author's notes
Thank you for taking the time to read this story.
The idea for this book
Until last year, I had never watched a talent show on TV (if you don't count The Ultimate Fighter). I knew they existed and they were popular, but I ignored them. Last year, I spent some time with my mother just when a new season was starting, and lo and behold, I got hooked from the very first episode. And as it always happens to me, in my imagination I started weaving a story about what would be fun to happen off camera.
"Sing" is a fictional show, just as made up as Illyria itself (I'll come to that in a moment). The rules of the show are borrowed from The Ultimate Fighter except that instead of MMA fights, the contestants on Sing have to, well, sing.
This book came to me like a rush of inspiration. It's far from perfect, and I would be very grateful if you get in touch with me at [email protected] to tell me if you spotted any errors in continuity, if you found something unclear.
As a reader, I tend to skip description passages and I don't remember what a character is wearing immediately after reading about it. I have a pinterest board for this series, with images for every setting in the first four books (2 duets) and lots of photos of the fantasy cast for the characters. Yet, I'm sure I didn't do a very good job of showing them you.
A few words about Illyria.
Dark Dream (Love in Illyria Book 1) Page 15