Page 112
“No, I can’t, Dad. The D-Bags are a full-time commitment, and they’re what I want. Everything I’d once had…is everything I want.” Why couldn’t I have realized that sooner? Before I’d lost it all. Because I hadn’t seen what I’d had until I lost it all. The steak in the water had looked so much bigger than the one in my mouth, but it hadn’t been real.
God, I hoped Kiera gave Anna that letter…
“What’s going on?”
I turned around to see Liam entering the kitchen. He dropped by a lot for dinner. Dad said it was because he hated cooking, but I think he just didn’t like to eat alone. Liam didn’t have the widest circle of friends.
Dad sighed as he indicated me. “Your brother quit the job I worked so hard to get him.”
Liam didn’t seem surprised to hear that. I gave Dad a withering look, before facing my brother again. “I’m auditioning for the D-Bags contest to replace me. If I get on the show, then I’ll quit my job.” I gave my dad a so-there smile.
Liam got really quiet, then he muttered, “Oh…”
His voice was so odd, I turned back to look at him. He had an expression that was both miffed and horrified. “What?” I cautiously asked.
Liam looked at my parents before looking back at me. “Well…it’s an open audition, and I’ve been looking for some exposure, so I thought it would be a good idea…”
“A good idea to do what?” I asked, my voice firm.
Liam raised his chin. “I’m auditioning too.”
My first instinct was outrage. This was my audition, my job, but then I remembered…it wasn’t. I’d given it up, and now it was open for anyone to pursue. I stood from the table and Liam backed up a step, like he was sure I would deck him. I didn’t though. I was trying to be a better, more mature person. I was trying to grow up. And a part of doing that was learning to be gracious and supportive. I wanted the best for Liam, I really did.
Holding out my hand, I told him, “I hope you get on the show.”
Liam seemed shocked by my admission, but I meant it. Even if he didn’t win the contest, the show would rev up his career in a way that nothing else would, and I wanted that for him. Finally seeing that I was serious, he clasped my hand. “Thank you,” he told me.
Nothing but sincerity was in his voice, and I smiled at hearing it. “You’re welcome.”
The next two weeks flew by. I barely had time to think, there was so much to do. Practicing was at the top of my list. If I wasn’t at work, I was in my parents’ garage, busting out beats on either a bass guitar or a lead. I’d had to rent them, since I’d sold mine in “the purge.” Well, technically Liam was the one renting them, since I didn’t have the money. Liam practiced on one while I practiced on the other, then we’d swap.
Liam had played a bit as a kid, but he hadn’t touched an instrument in recent years; he was even rustier than I was. I helped him get caught up, giving him refreshers on chords and notes, and teaching him every single one of the D-Bags’ songs. The ones I could remember, at any rate. More than a few had slipped from my memory, a by-product of barely paying attention for years. God, I was a lazy jackass sometimes.
Mom was ear-to-ear smiles whenever she watched us rehearsing. She loved seeing her kids getting along. Chelsey and her girls watched us sometimes too, and sometimes the kids would bang on pots and pans and sing whatever lyrics came to mind. That was sort of annoying, but I ignored it and focused on the music. If I could keep my concentration during their ruckus, then I could keep it through anything.
Before I knew it, auditions were upon me. When we arrived at the crack of dawn, there was already a line around the block. People must have camped out for this. My heart was thudding in my chest as I took my spot at the end of the line. From behind me, I heard Liam say, “I’m gonna be sick, and we’re not even inside yet.”
Turning around, I put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be great. You had inside help on learning all the songs. That gives you a huge advantage over everyone else here.”
Liam swallowed, then smiled. “Everyone but you.”
I wished I could believe that, but I had too much baggage in my way. For me, my experience was a handicap. “I may know the songs, but I don’t think it will help me. I need all three guys to say yes to the next round…and as far as I know, hell hasn’t frozen over yet.”
Pissiness started seeping into me, but I pushed it back. The only way this was going to work was if I tore down my pride. And begged. I figured I had lots of that in front of me. But that was okay. Whatever I had to do to get my life back.
It took forever for the line to move. Liam and I entertained ourselves by chatting with the other contestants. There were a surprising number of girls in the line. I figured they just wanted a glimpse of Kellan, but…maybe not. All the ones I talked to knew their shit. In fact, most of them knew more technical crap about music than I did. I could have used their expertise when I’d been putting together that godforsaken album.
Liam had helped disguise me, so no one around knew who they were actually talking to. My brother seemed to think I’d be best unrecognized as a ginger. He said it was because I’d been blond when the band first got big, then brunette when I’d quit on live TV, so a redhead was my only remaining choice. Personally, I think he’d just wanted to torture me. He’d borrowed some supplies from a recent commercial he’d filmed—a red wig in a cut so short, I had to crop my hair again…and just when it had been almost to my chin too; a red fake goatee; green contacts; and red paint for fucking freckles. I had been afraid I was going to end up looking like Raggedy Andy, but Liam knew what he was doing, and when he was finished, I looked like a completely natural redhead.