Back Beat

by Sloan, Ryleigh

  She joins me on the balcony as if nothing is wrong and lights up a cigarette. “Want one?”

  Her complete lack of a clue makes me want to shake her. Does she think I’m on her clock?

  “No, I don’t. Finish up and come inside. Danielle, the short of it is you are wasting my fucking time, and this is the last time you do it. If you don’t want to take my advice, fine. If you think you know better, that’s good too. The thing is, where I am today didn’t fall in my lap. It happened after years and years of playing on street corners, and later, bars. It was walking door to door when I couldn’t afford money for gas and giving DJs our demo. It was paying our dues and paying them with a much better attitude than you have. So, you don’t need to respect me. You just need to fucking respect my time. Waste it again and I’m out.”

  I storm back inside and pace the room. My temper rises with each second it takes Danielle to finish her smoke, defiance dripping off her with every lazy puff.

  I’m about to walk out of the room when my phone buzzes in my pocket. A one-line text is all it takes for my mood to settle.

  Blair: Wishing you and Danielle luck for the show tomorrow, coach. I’ll be in the crowd cheering you on.

  Alright, let’s get this done.

  11

  Blair

  I’m juggling two herbal teas as I race to the studio. I’m really nervous about today’s rehearsal since so much rides on my performance this evening. We’re three-quarters of the way into the competition, and the closer I get to the end, the more nervous I become. My phone rings. I have my earbuds in, so all I need to do is hit the button on my bud with my pinkie.

  “Hello?” I can’t see who is on the line, so my tone is politely professional.

  “Hey, Blair.”

  “Maddie, oh I’m so glad you returned my call. I’ve got so much to tell you, starting with the most incredibly embarrassing thing I could ever do.” I phoned Maddie right after the rehearsal where I pretty much seduced Dean—albeit as part of my show, but that’s not the point. It’s been a good four days since I called, but time zones are a bitch and Maddie is crazy busy with school and baking, so I expected to wait a while till I heard from her. But now that I have her on the line, everything comes spewing out.

  “Mads, you are not going to believe what I did with Dean on Thursday.”

  “Blair, I—”

  I dodge someone who is about to barrel into me and shoot him a filthy look which he doesn’t see since he has his back to me.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Mads, and just hear me out before you start the big lecture. So before the battle, I had to spend a few days on Kade’s team so Jeremy and I could do our routine. You know, Jeremy—he’s the sweet guy from Kansas whose dad wants him to work the ranch but he just wants to sing? The one with the girlfriend back home who I’m totally jealous of, not ’cause I have a thing for Jeremy but because of the relationship goals?” I don’t know why I’m asking her so many questions when I am not giving her a chance to answer, and I’m also not entirely sure why I’m rambling at two hundred words a minute, but I think it’s the nerves and the fact that I’m so happy to be talking to my best friend. Even if the conversation is one-sided right now.

  “Anyway, Kade thought up this sexy routine that involves a lot of seductive moves, but since we’re doing ‘Slow Hands,’ it works, you know?”

  I wait for the light to change at the crosswalk, and when it hits green, I step off the curb. People rush behind me like sheep, and I’m carried in the human stampede which suits me anyway since I’m cutting it close. I try to be a little bit early for rehearsals since I like to maximize my time and Dean always seems to be available. But today I thought he’d appreciate some tea, so I made a quick stop. I didn’t account for the lines being so long at 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday. Don’t these people have lives? Or enjoy their sleep?

  “Anyway.” I wave my hand in the air, grateful the plastic lid is secure enough that only a dribble of tea escapes the spout, and turn right. One more block and I’ll be at the studio. “Dean asked me to show him what I’d done with Jeremy, and since Jeremy wasn’t there, I basically had to use Dean as my partner. Mads, I pretty much dry humped the guy, and I swear he got hard.”

  “Blair!”

  I stop because something in her tone gives me chills, and I know it’s not because she’s about to tell me to be careful with Dean. This is more than that.

  Some guy walks right into me, spilling more of the tea. “Lady, watch what you’re doing!”

  “Blair, honey, it’s Papaw. He had an accident and is in Nelspruit Life in ICU.”

  My world stops but plays out like a funny movie. Everything around me looks like it’s going in fast-forward while I am frozen in time. In this moment, my world as I know it ceases to exist. My papaw is in ICU.

  ICU.

  That can’t be—he’s the strongest man I know, can handle everything. He’s invincible.

  “What kind of accident?” My voice cracks. I can’t even imagine what could have happened—my brain just refuses to accept what I’m hearing.

  “He was cutting down the branch next to cottage seven—the one that’s wrecking the thatch— and the ladder slipped and he fell. He broke seven ribs, and one pierced his lung. They’re draining him now and giving him blood, but he’s losing blood faster than they can give it to him and they don’t know why. He isn’t breathing so well either.”

  “I’m coming home.”

  “I’ll fetch you from the airport.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Mads. Just be there for Mom and Grams, okay?”

  “Of course. I love you, Blair.”

  “I love you, Mads.”

  I hang up the phone, and while I’m running, I try to see when the next available flight is. My heart sinks when I see the first flight out only leaves tomorrow. I start heading toward the studio but stop as I reach the steps. I need a minute before I go in there and tell Dean I need to leave. I’m not ready to voice out loud that Papaw is in the hospital.

  12

  Dean

  I’m getting pissed. Blair’s forty-five minutes late, and every time I try to call her, she hangs up on me and the last few times the calls went straight to voicemail. I rescheduled my entire day to squeeze in another practice with her before her performance with Jeremy later, and she doesn’t even have the decency to let me know what the hell is going on. Or at best, just answer my damn calls. I’m surprised by her. She has shown nothing but dedication. I’ve even had to force her to take a break every once in a while, like when I’ve found her at the studio into the small hours of the morning. I’ve also warned her against burnout, and she promised me she’d rest more. But today, she’s disappointing me.

  Blair is proving to be the fans’ favorite. She’s sweet and funny and clever as all shit. Sometimes, when we’re having a session, she comes up with things I’d expect someone who has been in the business for years to think of. So what the problem is today, I don’t know.

  I’m also in a shitty mood. Danielle put a complaint in against me saying I give Blair more time than her. She’s not wrong, and there’s a major case of jealousy going on because as bad as it is to admit, Blair is seriously head and shoulders above any of the other contestants in the team. That’s not why I’m spending more time with Blair though. I spend more time with Blair because she’s damn driven and pushes like no one else I’ve known.

  She comes in the door, and I’m about to ask her why the hell she’s late when I see her face. She looks like she’s been crying, and I sit up straighter. “Blair, are you okay?”

  She scrunches up her face, and I’m sure she’s about to burst into tears when she takes a deep breath. “I…uh…no, not really.” She looks down at her phone and swallows the lump in her throat. “It’s…uh…my papaw. He fell off the roof and isn’t doing so well. He’s…” She takes a steadying breath. “He’s in ICU. He’s struggling to breathe.” She breaks down, and I go to
her and gather her into my arms. She sobs against my chest, and in that moment I realize I want to be the one who always comforts her when she’s hurting. I also realize, somewhere in the last while, she became more to me than a contestant.

  She steps back and wipes her tears with her sleeve. There’s something seriously wrong with me for thinking she’s absolutely stunning when she cries. I’m a dick.

  “I have to go home. I’m trying to get flights, but there aren’t any till tomorrow. Dean, I’m sorry, I can’t do the show with Jeremy tonight. I’m going to have to pull out of the competition.”

  My heart feels like lead. This can’t be happening. Blair has something—something nearly every one of us in the industry craves and searches for. It’s not always natural for us, and she has it. I know if she goes home now, she’ll never come back, never do this again, and she’ll give up her dreams. I can’t have that.

  I take her hands in mine and stop her frantic searching for flights on her phone. “You can’t pull out, Blair. You can’t.”

  “Dean, my papaw is the most important person in my life. He is my rock, my everything. I have to go to him.”

  I nod. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t go—you can’t get a flight out till tomorrow anyway, right? Take part in today’s battle. Go up against Jeremy, and then you can fly out to your papaw. We have a two-week break—I’ll come with you, and we can work on writing your own song.”

  She bites her lip and I know she’s considering it, and my soaring hopes are a warning bell—a loud fucking siren that tells me I’m in too deep—but then she shakes her head.

  “That wouldn’t be fair to Danielle. I’d have an unfair advantage.”

  I shove my hands in my pockets. “She got the same offer you did last week to stay on during the break so I could work more with both of you, but she wanted to go home to her boyfriend. I’m not holding it against her, but she made a choice. You were going to stay until…”

  Her face breaks and she rubs at her eyes, fighting back the tears.

  “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to concentrate. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work?”

  “Two hours a day. I’ll come with you and we’ll do two hours a day. It’s more than we’ll have if you quit.”

  Her thumb goes to her mouth, and she chews on the skin that is already raw. I take her hand in mine to stop her from doing more damage. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  “Okay, I need to book the flight.”

  I reluctantly let go her hand and walk to the piano in the corner and pick up my phone. I dial a number and speak. “Jacky, I need two first-class tickets to South Africa. Direct flights.”

  Blair starts shaking her head and opens her mouth to protest. I hold a finger up and move the phone away from my mouth. “Which airport?” She hesitates, and I use my leverage. “We’ll get there faster, and you’ll be better rested.”

  She sighs but smiles gratefully. “O.R. Tambo, then we’d need a connecting flight to Kruger Mpumalanga International Airport.”

  I relay the information to Jacky and ask her to arrange a car straight to the hospital, then hang up.

  “Thank you, Dean, I’ll pay you back. It will take me some time though.” She gives a little laugh.

  “Win this competition. That will be payment enough.”

  13

  Dean

  I wouldn’t say I take my lifestyle for granted. I know how fickle the industry is and appreciate it can pretty much all disappear in a millisecond, but watching Blair as we board the plane and enter first class brings home that I certainly have become accustomed to how different life is for me now that I’ve “made” it. It’s refreshing to experience it all again through Blair’s eyes.

  She stares wide-eyed at the spacious seating arrangements, and I watch the worry that has lined her face since this morning and even the slight distraction through her performance last night—which to be fair was only noticeable to me—leave her face while she takes everything in. The cabin crew point us to our seats, and Blair hesitantly sits down.

  “First time in first class?” I know the answer, and I’m not sure why I asked such a stupid question, but I want to hear her voice while her face is lit up in awe.

  “Until I came here, I’d never been on a fixed-wing plane before.” She blushes. “Fixed wing is a normal aircraft, and rotor wing is a helicopter.” She hesitates and her blush deepens as she waves her hands. “But you probably know that.”

  “I figured.” I smile and she smiles back shyly. I wonder if she senses the dynamic between us change too.

  We take off and I white-knuckle the armrests. It doesn’t matter how many times I fly or how comfortable the accommodations are, I still can’t shake the fear of flying. It’s not so much a fear of flying but more a fear of taking off. I’ve never had a bad experience—hell, I’ve never even hit turbulence. I just can’t trust that something as heavy as an aircraft, filled with as many passengers as they have crammed into this one, can get off the ground without smashing onto the tarmac.

  Blair’s hand curls around mine, and I gratefully clasp it.

  “Scared of flying?” she asks, and her eyes are kind.

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “It’s okay to be scared. My mom doesn’t set foot on a plane of any kind. She says if God wanted her to fly, he’d have given her wings.”

  I chuckle and try not to squeeze my eyes shut when the aircraft speeds up. Where the hell is the champagne already?

  “Wanna know what I’m scared of?”

  I’m breathing through my nose and trying not to vomit all over myself, so I don’t answer her. Her fingers tighten around mine, and the deep pressure kind of feels good.

  “Guess,” she says, and I frown, trying to remember what the question was.

  “Can’t you just tell me?” I’m trying hard not to scream like a pussy here, and it’s hard to focus on anything else.

  “Nope, not telling you. You have to guess.”

  I scrunch up my face. “Uh, spiders?”

  “Nope, guess again.”

  Okay, first I’ve gotta work on getting my throat to swallow and some moisture in my mouth so I can move my tongue. “Snakes.”

  “Nope, not snakes. I had a pet python growing up called Susan. Turned out Susan was actually a male, but he didn’t mind.”

  “You had a male pet python and you named him Susan?”

  “Yep.”

  I laugh and it’s real, not hysteria.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with that?”

  “Aside from the obvious that you gave a badass male snake the name Susan?”

  She looks slightly affronted, and it’s fucking adorable. “What name would you give to a snake, Judgy-McJudgerson?”

  I have to fight the smile ’cause I’m offending her. I’ve known her for six weeks and she’s never been offended by any critique I’ve given her, but she’s offended by this.

  “Well?”

  I bite the inside of my lip, and I swear she glares at me without even moving so much as a muscle. “Give me a minute, this is a lot of pressure.” I’ve never owned a snake or any pet for that matter, and I have a feeling this answer is life or death.

  “We’re in the air, by the way.”

  I lift the window screen, and sure enough, we’re in the air. “Damn! I didn’t even notice the takeoff.”

  She winks. “Works every time. Maddie gets a little queasy on takeoff, and I just start an argument about which of the Jonas Brothers is cuter and she always falls for it.”

  “Really? The Jonas Brothers?”

  “Yeah, what’s wrong with the Jonas Brothers?”

  “Well, until recently they’d dropped off the radar.”

  “We’ve been fans since the start. I never figured you for a snob.”

  I’m definitely skipping abs at the gym this week because she’s giving my stomach a workout with all this laughing. “I’m not judging them. They’r
e actually close friends of mine. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

  “A true fan will stay a fan. No matter how long the band disappears for.”

  I wish that were true, but often, once you’re off the scene, you’re gone for good. It’s why we work so hard to stay relevant. To distract myself from my somber thoughts, I ask, “So, which one is the cutest?”

  “Nick! Hands down.”

  I nod. “Yeah, he’s definitely got it all.”

  “You should ask him out.” The mischief on her face is going to do things to me I don’t need happening since I’m wearing sweats.

  I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t think his wife will appreciate that.”

  She laughs and I struggle to keep from getting hard.

  “Who does Maddie like?”

  “She loves Kevin.”

  “He’s a stand-up guy.”

  A cabin crew member comes over, and I see Blair sit up straighter. She lets go of my hand and is out the chair in a second, and I immediately miss her warmth.

  “Glenn? What are you doing here?” She looks at me. “This is my friend Glenn. He used to work the flights bringing the charters into the lodge. I’ve known him since I was a kid.” She steps in and gives him a massive hug. “When did you switch to airlines?”

  “Started last week, my dear. You’re flying first class now?”

  “I am. Moving up in the world.” She waggles her eyebrows, and I can tell she’s just making light of things so she doesn’t have to talk about her grandfather.

  “Tell me, my dear, would it be a terrible imposition if the couple at the back take a selfie with you? It was them that pointed out you were on the flight, and I said I’d ask, but I don’t want to impose.”

  Blair scrunches her face as if she’s confused. “They want a selfie with me?”

  He nods. “They do. They’ve seen you on the show. So have I, my dear, and might I say you’ve made me very proud.”