by Kelly Oram
I figured out his secret after the band was done and Colin introduced us. It was his attitude that landed him women. He wore an arrogant smile that suggested he considered himself the most important person in the room, and looked at women as if their desire for him was a given and they would be privileged to have his attention.
I knew his type. Diva. I hated divas. If I weren’t desperate for a bass player, I’d never ask for his help. But with only a week to go before my audition, I didn’t have a choice. “Hey, good show,” I said as I shook his hand.
My compliment was met with a smirk. It took everything I had in me not to roll my eyes. Then, as his bored gaze slid from me to Sophie and his eyes slowly worked their way up and down her body, I was suddenly fighting the urge to punch him in his pale face. Pulling Sophie tightly against my side, I introduced her. “This is my girlfriend, Sophie.”
His eyes mockingly flicked back to me. He took Sophie’s hand and kissed the back of it. “That’s a shame.”
“You wish,” Sophie muttered. That’s my girl. She pulled her hand back, matching his leer with a haughty expression that only she could pull off, giving him a taste of his own disdainful medicine.
I wasn’t surprised Sophie was unimpressed. Jordan’s attitude, however, was a little shocking. She was so down-to-earth that I never would have thought she’d fall for this guy’s game. But she turned up her charm, flirting in a way I’d not seen her do before, as if she were really hoping to catch his attention. Touching his arm lightly, she laughed and said, “Hey, I’m Jordan. You were great tonight.”
He briefly scanned her from head to toe and then smirked down at her as if he thought she were some pathetic groupie. The condescension that, thankfully, Jordan didn’t catch, made me angry enough that I would have called him out had Jordan not said something so shocking I literally forgot about everything else. “Seriously. You were so Sid Vicious up there.”
I couldn’t believe it. She made a Sid Vicious reference. To get cliché on you, when that name left her mouth and was even used in a very accurate comparison, my jaw hit the ground. Had there still been music playing, it would have come scratching to a stop. I was completely floored. And so very, very impressed.
The lack of recognition in Blaze’s eyes was almost as shocking as Jordan knowing who Sid Vicious was. Jordan thought it was odd, too. She looked pointedly at his made-to-look-vintage Sex Pistols T-shirt. “You don’t know who Sid Vicious is?”
“How do you know who Sid Vicious is?” I blurted before Blaze could say anything.
Jordan met my shocked gaze and raised her chin. “What? I’m not completely ignorant when it comes to music.”
I wasn’t falling for it. “The other day you asked me who Maroon 5 was.”
“Oh, Jordan.” Colin sighed, shaking his head, shamed on her behalf.
She folded her arms stubbornly, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Fine, I’m busted. I saw the movie. Sid and Nancy. 1986. Gary Oldman and Chloe Webb. Won several film awards. It wasn’t bad, though it couldn’t have been a more stereotypical bio pic.” Pointing a finger at Blaze, she flashed him a huge grin. “You were so Sid and Nancy tonight. But early in the movie, of course. During the rise to fame. Not, you know, toward the end.”
I smiled to myself when Mr. Too Cool for the Human Race fell into Jordan’s trap the same way I always did. “You going to leave me in the dark, honey?” he asked Jordan in a smooth voice that made her blush. “Who was Sid Vicious, and if I’m him, do you want to be my Nancy?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Not only was the guy a diva, he was a poser. And he basically just asked Jordan if she wanted him to stab her to death. Sid Vicious was the bassist for the Sex Pistols. He was a drug addict who eventually killed his girlfriend, Nancy, and died of an overdose speculated to be suicide. If even Jordan knew who Sid Vicious was—granted, she only knew him because she’d seen the movie, but still—then the emo rocker who played the same instrument and was wearing his band’s freaking T-shirt should definitely know who the guy was.
When I opened my mouth to explain, Jordan stopped me before I could humiliate the guy. “You know, it’d be more fun if I showed you. You free tomorrow night? We could get some takeout and rent the movie.”
Was she seriously asking the douche out? As her roommate, I couldn’t in good conscience let her make that mistake. “Uh, you sure you want to do that, Nancy?”
Jordan snorted, mistaking my subtle hint that this guy was most likely going to treat her like dirt for a joke. She rolled her eyes and shoved my arm. “Ha ha.” She grinned up at Blaze. “So, what do you think?”
The way he looked her over made her cheeks flush and my blood boil. “Hey, stop putting the moves on my guy,” I said to Jordan. “We came here for me, remember?”
Blaze’s arrogant smirk reappeared. “Hey man, I’m flattered, but I’m not into guys.”
“Bummer,” Colin muttered.
I laughed. “I’m not looking for a hookup. I need a good bassist.”
Blaze scoffed. “I don’t know what little band you’re trying to put together, but I’ve already got a good thing going here. We get steady gigs every weekend, and we’re putting together a demo.”
“Hey, that’s awesome, man,” I said, playing to the guy’s ego a little. “I don’t want to steal you from your band. I’m in the music program at Steinhardt, and I got invited to audition for the semester showcase. I need someone to play the bass for me in my audition piece. It would just be one song. The audition is next Friday, and then we’d have to perform it in the showcase in December, if we get in.”
Surprised, Blaze looked at me as if just seeing me for the first time. “You’re talking about that big talent show NYU does twice a year that all the major labels go to?”
I held back the smug grin that wanted to take over my face. “Yeah. It’s pretty big time. Great exposure.”
He still had an air of superiority, but he couldn’t hide his interest. “You any good?”
Now I did smirk. “Good enough to be the first freshman allowed to audition in over three years. Will Treager personally asked me to try out.”
Blaze’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “The Will Treager? You know him?”
I shrugged. “He’s my professor.”
He glanced across the bar at his bandmates and then back at me. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come listen to what you’ve got. If you don’t totally suck, I’ll play for you.”
Suppressing an eye roll, I held my hand out to him. “Great. We’ve got a practice room reserved tomorrow. Meet us in the lobby at Steinhardt at 10:00 a.m.?”
“Yeah.”
Colin cheered. “Yay! Now we can get back to the fun stuff. Let’s go find a place with a dance floor and a lot of hotties.”
I’d performed a hundred times. I loved it, and never got stage fright. Auditioning was different. By the time Friday rolled around, my song was ready, but I was a ball of nerves. I was equal parts terrified and excited to perform my first original song. I knew it was good—I was proud of it—but I had so much riding on it that I couldn’t settle down.
“Jordan!” I hollered from where I stood waiting by the front door. We needed to leave, and the woman was taking forever to get ready. “It’s time to go!”
“Two seconds!” she called back. “I just have to change my shoes!”
“It’s just an audition. We’re only going to play one song. You don’t have to get dressed up. Get your flip-flops, and let’s go.”
“Nate, it’s your big debut. It’s an occasion that deserves a little fuss. Besides, after all the grief I got last weekend, I know better than to settle for jeans and a ponytail again. Colin would kill me.”
She finally appeared in the living room, hooking a set of big dangly earrings in her ears as she headed toward me. I did a double take, shocked by what I saw. She looked hot, but she was so different from her normal style of athletic wear and ponytails. She grinned when she noticed me checking her out, and took a spin. “
What do you think?”
Not that I have anything against tall boots, short skirts, and low-cut tops—and frankly Jordan pulled it off surprisingly well—but it’s not my favorite look on a girl. I enjoyed seeing Jordan all dressed up, though. It was nice to know there’s a side of her that can let loose. And the fact that she’d gone out of her comfort zone in an effort to support me meant a lot. “You look great. Going to a costume party?” I teased.
“Shut up!” She tried, very unconvincingly, to act hurt. “Colin picked out the outfit for me yesterday. He says I look hot.”
“You look like a Band-Aid.”
“A what?”
She studied the smirk on my face, trying to figure out if that meant she looked good or not. I snickered. “Come on, movie buff. I’m playing your game here.”
“Oh, you are?” She perked up, intrigued. “Well, this should be interesting. I’d love to know what film the guy who doesn’t watch movies relates to life.”
As I rolled my eyes, she began to think and then frowned. “I’ve never seen a movie about Band-Aids. It must not have been very memorable. No wonder you don’t have a favorite.”
“It’s a good movie.” I laughed. “Kate Hudson’s in it. You like her.”
Frowning, she put her hands on her hips and stomped her foot once. “Okay, what is it?”
I threw a hand over my chest with a gasp, feigning shock. “Could it be? Is it really possible that there’s a movie in this world that I’ve seen and you haven’t?”
Jordan rolled her eyes. “Just tell me.”
I was kind of proud that I’d stumped her. “Almost Famous. Kate played one of the Band-Aids.”
“Hmm.” Jordan nodded thoughtfully. “Cameron Crowe. You’re right. It probably is good, but I haven’t seen it. I guess it makes sense that you’d pick that one. It’s all about music.”
“Yeah. And I guess I should have known you wouldn’t have seen it, little miss I-don’t-care-enough-about-music-to-have-a-favorite-song-and-didn’t-even-know-who-Maroon-5-was.”
“Hey! You be nice to me, or I’m not going to watch your audition.”
She was kidding, but I still apologized as I opened the front door. “All right. I’m sorry. I’ll quit teasing. You know I can’t play my first original song without you there cheering me on.”
She folded her arms and gave me a defiant stare. “Darn right, you can’t.”
I threw my guitar over my shoulder and held the door open for her. “Come on. I’m sure the guys are waiting for us by now, since you took a million years getting ready.”
“I can’t help it,” she said as she stepped into the hall. “It takes time to look this good. Besides, I did it just for you, and you still haven’t told me how I look.”
“I did too,” I argued as I pulled the door shut and locked it.
“You said I look like a Band-Aid.”
“You do,” I teased. I was enjoying this way too much.
“What is that, anyway? Was Kate in a band or something?” Jordan’s frown quickly turned into an excited smile. “Are you telling me I look like a rock star?”
If she only knew. I hit the button for the elevator, and I couldn’t help giving her quite a bit of attitude as I answered her. “Maybe you should watch the movie and find out.”
“Maybe I will,” she said with equal sarcasm.
“Good. Maybe I’ll join you.”
“Good. Maybe you should bring the popcorn.”
“Maybe you should bring the ice cream.”
“Maybe I will.”
We stared each other down for a second, and then the elevator opened. Jordan stepped out and looked over her shoulder at me. “Hurry up. You’re going to be late for your audition.”
“You’re hilarious.”
She winked at me, and then burst out of our building and strode off down the busy New York street in her short skirt and tall boots as if she owned the world. Once I caught up to her, I broke down and gave her what I knew she wanted. “You look very hot, Jordan.”
She grinned up at me with a smile so adorable that I couldn’t help offering her my arm. Surprise flashed in her eyes, and her smile doubled as she accepted it.
. . . . .
Jordan and I were the last of our group to arrive at the auditorium. The guys I’d recruited to play with me were already onstage setting up equipment, and Colin was chatting happily with the guy I’d gotten to play the piano for me. After checking in with the judges, I jumped up onstage. “Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” I said, pulling my guitar out of its case. “I blame Jordan. She took five hundred years to get ready, and I couldn’t leave without her and let her walk here by herself while looking like that.”
“I heard that!” Jordan yelled from the front row.
“I wasn’t whispering,” I called back.
Beside me, Blaze whistled long and low. “I wouldn’t have guessed your roommate could be so hot.”
I looked over my shoulder just as Colin hopped down from the stage and took Jordan’s hands in his. “Now this is what I’m talking about.” He looked her up and down with a huge grin on his face.
Laughing, I plugged my guitar into an amp, leaving them to their banter. Blaze tested each string on his bass and made an adjustment. “She’s single, right?”
I ground my teeth. Blaze had pretty much ignored Jordan since we’d met him. But she put on a short skirt, and now, suddenly, he’s ready to go out? “She’s too sweet for you.”
His eyes were still locked on Jordan. “She doesn’t look sweet.”
I had to remind myself I couldn’t punch my bassist right before my audition. “Well, trust me, she is. You ready?”
Blaze’s eyes narrowed at the growl in my voice, but he let it drop. “I’m ready.”
Pushing my annoyance to the back of my mind, I checked with the other guys. After getting the okay from them all, I checked the sound on the microphone, then told the judges we were ready. There were six of them total, sitting in a line about ten rows back—four men and two women. The only one I knew personally was Mr. Treager. The others taught more advanced classes that, as a freshman, I hadn’t enrolled in yet.
Mr. Treager gave me an encouraging smile. “Okay, Nate. Whenever you’re ready.”
Butterflies had my stomach feeling like a war zone. I took a deep breath, attempting to shake off my nerves. “You got this, Nate!” Jordan called out. “Go Julia Stiles on them!”
Though mortified by my roommate’s enthusiastic outburst, I laughed. Jordan had been making me watch different movies all week in preparation for my audition. We’d finally watched Step Up, and from there, we’d watched Sister Act and Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit, Center Stage, both Pitch Perfect movies, and finally, last night we’d watched Save the Last Dance. In that one, Julia Stiles had to audition to get into Julliard. Julia had nailed the audition, of course, and gotten into the school of her dreams. Jordan had been calling me Julia all day.
The distraction was exactly what I needed to focus. Forgetting my nerves, I counted us off and then did what I do best. Instantly, I flipped into performance mode, channeling all of my nerves into the song. That’s how it always works for me. When the lights go down, I don’t think about anything else. The music just takes over.
I gave it everything I had, and I knew when the song was over I felt pretty confident that I’d nailed the performance. Colin and Jordan went so crazy cheering, clapping, and whistling that the judges laughed.
“Nice job, Nate. Go ahead and pack up your equipment while we take a few minutes to discuss it,” Mr. Treager said, making all of my nerves reappear.
Letting out a huge breath, I looked out to thank Mr. Treager, and noticed my brothers standing in the back of the auditorium. I froze. What were they doing here? How did they even know when my audition was?
Guilt rolled over me as I took in their shocked, angry faces. They looked as if I’d just stabbed them both in the back. I hadn’t done anything wrong—they were the ones who hadn’t answ
ered my calls—but seeing their hurt didn’t feel good, and this wasn’t going to do anything to fix my relationship with either of them.
When we made eye contact, Tyler huffed out the door after shooting me a scathing look, but Chris didn’t move. I think he wanted to talk to me. I was dying to have my brothers back, so I jumped down from the stage. Before I could make my way to him, Jordan threw her arms around me, nearly tackling me to the ground. It only took her a second to see that something was wrong. She followed my stare and gasped softly. “You should go talk to him.”
She was right. I needed to talk to them both. Tyler was never going to crack. Chris may have wanted to, but he was being stubborn, like me. That is one thing I can’t deny about the Anderson brothers. We’re all way too pigheaded for our own good. I had a feeling that if I didn’t force them to talk to me, we probably wouldn’t speak again until we went home for Christmas break. I didn’t want to go the rest of the semester without my brothers.
When I finally nodded, Jordan grinned and kissed my cheek. “Good luck.”
The encouragement made me laugh. “Thanks.”
I headed Chris’s direction, but before I reached him Mr. Treager called me over. With an apologetic smile, I went to talk to my teacher and face the judges. Suppressing the urge to puke, I held my breath as I waited for their verdict.
I couldn’t make sense of their expressions as I approached—there was a mix of smiles and frowns. The frowns caused my heart to stutter. After a moment of silence, one of the men, a heavyset man who looked to be in his fifties or so, steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and narrowed his eyes as he studied me. He was one of the frowns. “Nathan Anderson.”
I gulped. “Yes, sir.”
Finally, he extended a hand to me. “It’s good to meet you, son. I’m Joss Hendricks. Head of all music programs at Steinhardt.”
My eyes went wide hearing his title, and I had to focus all my energy on not trembling as I shook his hand. “Good to meet you too, sir.”