Childish Dreams

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Childish Dreams Page 6

by Verdant, Malorie


  Faith let out another whooping noise, so I turned and examined the room we would be sharing for the week. There were two queen beds, a small writing desk, a lounge chair that faced the window, and what appeared to be a large bathroom.

  “We’ve made it!” Faith giggled and flopped down until she was spread like a starfish across the bed. “We are in the top fifty of Superstardom. We’re on our way to becoming superstars!”

  I laughed and got my phone out to take a photograph of Faith’s dramatics, the room, and our view to send to Zach. The moment it was delivered, he replied with a photograph of his room and a mocking text message.

  Sure, your place looks all right, but I put up another poster of the King.

  How many posters of LeBron James do you need?

  At least two more. I had one on the floor, but Rocket thought it looked tasty.

  Well, enjoy finding the next two while I spend a whole week in this place, eating free food and hanging with Faith.

  Smiling at my phone as I sent my last message, I heard Faith cough and saw her eyeing me. “Stop texting your boyfriend and let’s go eat. I’m starving,” she whined, moving to the edge of her bed and pouting.

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend, and you just want to use the free vouchers they gave us.”

  “We have fourteen vouchers to use in this hotel. I don’t want to drink or gamble.” Faith laughed, dropping her sulking act. “So I want to eat as much as Vegas has to offer, in case they kick me off the show before the end of the week and I have to go home to my dad’s cooking. Please don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s going to starve herself to get votes. Because if so, I’m requesting a new roommate.”

  “Hell no. I just didn’t think they could send us home that quickly. They can do that? I thought we all had to be here until the very end so they can film our reactions to the top-ten announcement.” My brow furrowed and I wondered how quickly this could all be over.

  “Yeah, but this is television. I don’t believe everything they tell us, and I know they could probably edit together some old footage of our faces.” Faith grabbed her handbag and headed to the door. “So, you going to join me?”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled and grabbed my purse.

  As we walked down the hallway, I observed some of the other contestants I’d seen filming earlier entering and exiting their rooms. I could hear the squeals behind closed doors and some even practicing their future song auditions already.

  One guy wearing a cowboy hat and worn-out Levi jeans was leaning against the door that looked like it belonged to the cute brunette contestant opposite him. They both appeared to be the same age as Faith and me. Although he didn’t seem too worried about getting food, practicing his song, or examining his room. He touched her shoulder, whispered something into her ear, and she started giggling. When she opened her door wider and he walked inside, I nearly tripped over my own feet.

  “Did you see the cowboy go into that girl’s room?” I whispered to Faith, even though there was now no one else in the hallway with us.

  “I did. I’m also not surprised. I heard rumors during my last audition that Las Vegas week was filled with contestants hooking up with other contestants. I was warned that it can be fun, but usually the tryst will end with someone saying nasty things during their one-on-one interviews about the other person. As far as I’m concerned, I’m going to eat, sing, and stay out of trouble.” She pressed the button for the casino floor.

  “Me too.” I agreed, adjusting my handbag over my shoulder.

  “Oh please, you ain’t got a chance in hell of staying out of trouble,” Faith muttered as the doors opened and we made our way through the casino floor toward to buffet.

  “I wasn’t the one jumping on the bed,” I reminded her, trying to think about what it could be that she thought I might get up to. I was wearing my skinny blue jeans, a loose white tank, and my hair was pulled back in a messy bun. Compared to the girls walking around the hotel casino in sequined miniskirts and bright red lipstick, I looked like a preacher’s daughter.

  “Give it time and you’ll be jumping up and down on a bed.” Faith giggled. “I saw the way Jax Bone was staring at you during filming today.” She smirked. “It was how I found you. I saw the judges and then followed his attention to you. I do believe you were staring right back at him with your mouth hanging open until I screamed your name and broke y’all’s sexy eye contact thing. I didn’t even know you had a boy back home when I saw this all go down.”

  “I don’t have a boy back home,” I groaned. “And Jax just looked at me because I made a fool of myself during my audition.”

  “Girl, everyone makes a fool out of themselves during that first audition or they don’t end up on television. I didn’t see Jax trying to make smoldering eye contact with me after I accidentally dropped my guitar when they gave me my star ticket.” She smiled at the head waiter and showed him our vouchers. When we sat down in a booth near the back of the restaurant, she continued. “I actually can’t believe I’m already jealous of my roommate. Is it bad that I hope you suck when you audition?”

  I burst out laughing. “Is it bad that I hope you don’t really know how to play that guitar and just carry it around to look cool?”

  “Does it make me look cool?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s all that matters,” Faith replied, giggling.

  When she left to fill her plate with food, I wondered if I should be concerned that she thought I was some vixen. I panicked at the idea that others might have caught the moment Jax and I shared when I entered the hotel, but those fears quickly faded from my mind when Faith returned with food.

  “I can’t move,” Faith moaned an hour later.

  “You can’t move? I ate two pieces of pie. Why did I think I could handle two pieces of pie?” I groaned while the brick sitting inside my stomach shifted to an even more uncomfortable position.

  “I blame you for telling me about the fried chicken,” she said as she examined her empty plate with regret.

  “You were the one who pointed out the onion rings,” I complained as I looked for a napkin to keep wiping away the food I was afraid still covered my mouth and hands.

  “I think I’m going to need to go for a walk,” Faith gritted out, then stood up like an eighty-year-old woman who needed a cane. “Hopefully if I walk around the block, I’ll forget everything that happened here.”

  “I thought you couldn’t move.”

  “If I don’t move, I might never make it to my audition tomorrow. You know, when they said people missed their time slots because they experience Vegas until all hours of the morning, I thought they were just talking about the drinks, sex, and gambling. I never thought it could be the food.”

  “A rookie mistake we won’t make again,” I solemnly replied. “I’m so glad I don’t have to sing tomorrow. I get three days to try and digest this food before I have to sing to a group of strangers.”

  “You walking with me anyway?”

  “No, I need to sit for a spell. It’s not a good idea for me to walk with you right now. I wouldn’t want you to have to watch all the food I just pushed down my throat fight it’s way back up,” I explained.

  “That certainly would not be pleasant to see. Okay, you stay here and pull yourself together. I’ll meet you back in the room when you’re ready.” Faith stood up, waited until I nodded, and then shuffled to the exit.

  I exhaled and thought about how comfortable the booth might be if I needed to sleep here all evening. I imagined I would be capable of returning to our room in a few minutes, but it never hurt to have a backup plan.

  When a guy in a red LA Angels’ baseball cap and sunglasses suddenly climbed into my booth and sat beside me, I nearly screamed.

  He quickly put his hand over my mouth and removed his shades. “It’d be great if you didn’t draw attention to us,” Jax murmured before he noticed me staring at his hand covering my mouth. “Also, if you could avoid puking on
me, it’d be much appreciated.”

  I snorted. When he let go, I stared at him in his baggy sweats. He looked like a normal guy, so far removed from the rock star he was during filming.

  When I didn’t say anything, he seemed to get nervous and mumbled, “I was sitting in the booth behind you. Heard you girls talking about your auditions and interviews, but when I heard you talking about puking, I figured it was you.” He chuckled.

  “That’s who I am to you? The puking girl,” I asked, totally mortified.

  He smiled. “It’s better than the fangirl, or the girl who keeps saying suggestive things about my butt when I walk by, or the girl who covers all my songs for every audition.”

  “I don’t know, I might start singing all your songs to get rid of the puking girl label,” I joked, then softly sang the first lyrics of his song “Strong Enough Alone.”

  “I thought you weren’t a fan?” His eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “You don’t need to be a fan to know the lyrics of Jax Bone’s latest hit. You just need to listen to the radio,” I teased.

  “Yeah, they’re playing it a lot lately.” He almost seemed embarrassed, his eyes shifting and his hands strumming on the table.

  “It’s good,” I murmured. “It’s actually one of my favorites.”

  “Thanks. I know it’s a bit angst filled, but I wrote it after—” Before he could finish his sentence, a group of contestants walked into the restaurant. They were loud and laughing and had clearly had a few drinks to celebrate their first night in the hotel. I noticed the cowboy was with them, though his arm was draped over the shoulders of a blonde and not the brunette whose room he’d entered earlier.

  He’s going to make good television.

  “I probably should get out of here before everyone notices me and I get a slap on the wrist from the producers for fraternizing with the contestants,” Jax informed me as he slid his shades back on and pulled his baseball cap lower.

  “Is that not allowed?” I asked, biting my lip. “You don’t need to worry about my telling anyone we spoke, then. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “Look, it won’t get me fired. They just strongly encourage us judges to keep our distance because they don’t want us to give anyone false hope that they’ll make it through to the end of the competition.” He started sliding out of my booth, and the brick I felt in my stomach disappeared into the pit that had been dug with his words.

  We had just met, and I knew I shouldn’t feel hurt or surprised that a huge celebrity wasn’t allowed to be my friend during the competition. Yet I sat there staring at him hiding his face and body from the other contestants and pictured him doing that when I’d walked into the restaurant as well.

  “You want to go for a walk?” Jax whispered.

  “I thought you just said you’ll get a slap on the wrist for befriending the contestants?” I asked, confused.

  “You listened to my songs, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Any of them about following the rules?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  I chucked. “Not that I know of.”

  “Exactly. And there’s a loophole with us.”

  “Is that so?” I laughed.

  “They told me to hang out with my old friends and avoid drinking with the contestants in Vegas. Now, we became friends in Charleston and aren’t drinking, so what do you say, old friend? Want to get out of here?”

  His diabolical grin would have had me agreeing to anything. I thanked Jesus that all he was asking me was to go for a walk; otherwise, I would have been like the girls opening doors and hanging off the cowboy contestant. Foolishly forgetting why I came to Las Vegas.

  We exited the hotel like strangers. Jax kept his head down and walked a few feet in front of me. I tried not to giggle when his shoulder brushed against a girl wearing a T-shirt with his face on it, chatting with her girlfriends about locating him. They didn’t even notice they were in his presence.

  The smirk he sent my way when we finally escaped from the crowds turned my legs to jelly. “Have you seen the Bellagio fountain yet?” he asked curiously. When I shook my head, he led the way to stand before the immense body of water that looked more like a lake than a fountain. “It’s one of the must-see attractions here. If you do nothing but stand and watch this each night, it’s not a bad trip.”

  I grinned at him and stared at the still water with curiosity. I wondered, resting my elbows on the elaborate trellis, if standing so close would have us sprayed with water.

  “You ready for all this?” Jax softly inquired, his elbow brushing against mine as he too leaned on the fence.

  “The fountain?” I gestured to the water show.

  “Not the fountain.” Jax chuckled, nudging me with his shoulder. “The show, the attention, your rivals.”

  “Is there anything that could really ever prepare you for Superstardom?” I asked, nudging him back. “Even if I grew up with celebrity parents, sang every night, or performed for the queen, I imagine this show is another beast entirely.”

  “You aren’t wrong there.” He looked at me then, and I knew he was quietly dissecting everything about me. “I think you should say that during your interview.”

  “Call the show a beast I can’t handle?” I chuckled. “While everyone else talks about their passion and their experience, I’m going to tell the camera guy and everyone in the interview room that I have no idea what I am getting myself into?”

  “It would be a breath of fresh air. Fear isn’t bad. Being afraid to do something and then showing people you’re doing it anyway is inspirational. And everyone is looking for inspiration.”

  When he finished talking, our faces were extremely close together.

  “Jax Bone, you wouldn’t be trying to give me an unfair advantage, would you?” I teased, trying to shake the anticipation and chills that just ran over my body.

  “Hey, I’m on this roller-coaster ride with you. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing either. I’m just strapping in and hoping for the best.” He winked. “Plus, we’re basically the same age. I just got a little bit of a head start on this music business.”

  I thought about us being similar and decided he had to be joking. I was about to tell him just that when the music started to seep from the Bellagio fountain speakers and Jax stood up to take in the show. Watching him rise up had me ignoring the first few seconds of the show and completing my own examination of Jax. He looked damn comfortable in his baseball hat and sweatpants. It almost didn’t seem like the disguise anymore; suddenly I felt like the leather-clad, slicked-back hair, and expensive cologne version was the disguise.

  People started to crowd around us to watch the show. I was grateful for the jostling because we stopped talking, stopped touching, and I stopped thinking about things I knew I shouldn’t about my new old friend.

  Your job

  Jax

  We spent all night walking up and down the strip, visiting every cliché amusement Las Vegas had to offer and losing ourselves amongst the tourists who filled the sidewalk. I kept expecting her to complain about how tired her feet were or how she needed to go back inside to get her beauty sleep. But she never did.

  We rode the roller-coaster in New York, went to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and sat in the forum shops watching a very drunk couple stumble around announcing they just got married at Graceland. We were like kids in an adult playground, and watching Billie’s eyes widen in surprise and listening to the sound of her laughter over places I took for granted had inspiration grabbing me by the throat and squeezing. My hand was itching to find a pen and paper. I could barely look at her reaction to the tigers lounging behind thick sheets of glass in the middle of the hotel lobby. When she noticed my twitching leg, she quietly suggested we head back to the hotel, and I nodded in agreement. There were so many more places I wanted to show her, but I needed to write down the words that kept bouncing around in my head, desperate to escape.

  When we w
alked back into the hotel, music was thumping in my ears. I barely managed a quick goodbye when she stepped off the elevator on the twenty-first floor. I was consumed by the sound of a chorus filled with seconds of soft laughter. As I swiped my room key, I didn’t even contemplate going to bed or sleeping, just moved directly to the baby piano the hotel no doubt had in the penthouse merely for decoration and got to work.

  After four hours, it wasn’t even close to perfect. I needed to send it to Donny, get the boys in the studio to have a look and tweak it, until it was less of a torch song and more rock and roll. I thought about the possibility of getting an hour of sleep before I needed to start filming but quickly forgot about the possibility when my phone started buzzing.

  “One day,” I answered as I raked a hand through my hair and turned to look out the window to the sky that finally seemed to have finished changing from dark to light. “I would like to make it through one day without you calling me. Isn’t this what I pay you for? Shouldn’t you be calling radio stations or sponsors or someone who might want to talk to you about me rather than talking to me at all hours of the day? I speak with you more than I talk to my mother.”

  “I know, I spoke to her yesterday,” Donny replied with a hint of superiority. “She told me you need to call her and organize flights for her birthday. Also, Missy passed away.”

  “Sh*t. Is there a ‘sorry your cat died’ card I should send?” I muttered.

  “You sent your mother a pretty bouquet of pink roses to cheer her up.”

  “Great. Do you happen to know if my mother wants me to visit her or if she wants to visit me on the set in LA?”

  “This is when you need to call your mother yourself,” Donny exclaimed. “Although, if I know Bambi, she probably wants to visit the set. She is a big fan of the show, after all.”

  “I do happen to know that already. Is that why you called today?” I chuckled. “Yesterday it was about recording a new song, and today it’s about lecturing me on how often I call my mother?”

 

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