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Authors: R.E. Blake,Russell Blake

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BOOK: Best Of Everything
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There’s a scramble to our right, and three waiters come scurrying up carrying chairs.

“Just put them here,” I say, pointing to the front of the stage. I push one to Jay, Bruce takes the one on his side, and I turn mine backward and fold the microphone stand down and set it to the side. I give Jay a wink and he picks the opening notes of “Summertime.” I open my mouth and sing the first word, holding the tremolo for a good twenty seconds on the final syllable before the snare whack that brings complete silence. The room is spellbound. The next words are just my voice, and then the band slides beneath it, sultry and brooding, and I’m transported somewhere else, where it’s only me and the music.

When I finish it’s pandemonium. I can see my dad at our table wiping away tears. It’s an unbelievable moment for me, staring out at a room of my peers and the people who’ve worked like mad to make it happen for me. Even Saul looks like he’s seeing me for the first time, realizing that as good as the record is, what we just did is so much more powerful, so much more immediate, that it stands in a league of its own.

We do two more songs and then I call it quits, apologizing for not wanting to continue all night, but using the valid excuse that we’ve got a show tomorrow.

It takes another hour and a half to disengage from the party, everyone wanting their two minutes with me, and when I finally climb into the limo for the ride back to the apartment I’m completely drained. My dad tags along in the car to keep me company, and I realize from his reaction it’s his first limo ride. I’m deeply aware how different our lives are now and how much stranger mine’s going to get, and I hug him for an extra long time when we reach my building.

“So breakfast or brunch tomorrow? I can come here, or my treat at the hotel,” he offers.

“Let’s do it at the hotel. I’ll be there at” – I check the time, and see it’s almost 11:00, although it feels to me like 4:00 in the morning – “let’s call it 10:00?”

“Ten it is, sweetheart.” He hesitates as he holds me at arm’s length, studying me as if seeing me for the first time. “I’m amazed by what you’ve accomplished.”

The lump in my throat is the size of a baseball as I wait for the elevator. I’ll remember tonight for the rest of my life, because for the first time since winning the contest, it feels like the new path I’m on might actually be real, might last longer than a mist that burns off with the first rays of morning sun.

The thought both terrifies and electrifies me, and my mind’s whirling when I throw myself onto the bed, the effort of stripping off my clothes demanding all my remaining energy.

 

Chapter 27

I wake up to the intercom buzzing like an air raid siren in the living room. I roll off the bed and glance at the clock – 9:00 a.m. I’m wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt.

“Who is it?” I ask, depressing the intercom button.

“Avon Florists.”

“Who?”

“Avon Florists. We have a delivery for apartment 3C. A…Sage?”

The voice sounds young and hesitant. “Okay. That’s me.” I buzz the deliveryman in and shake my head to clear it. I’ve just pushed the button on the coffee maker when a knock sounds at the front door.

A skinny guy in a tan uniform is holding out a bouquet of red long-stem roses. I sign where requested on his tablet, the roses held close, and then it dawns on me the delivery guy’s probably not doing this for his health. “Hang on for a second, okay?” I ask, and he nods.

“Sure.”

I close the door and run to the bedroom, fish a five-dollar bill out of my purse, and return. “Thanks,” I say, handing it to him, the roses still clutched in my other hand. There’s a card in among the blossoms, and I pull it free as I shut the door behind me and walk into the kitchen.

I almost drop the flowers when I see the roses are from Derek.

I read the note out loud as I sleepwalk to the sink.

“Kick some serious ass, Sage. Saw the video last night. Epic. I miss you like crazy. Derek.”

The bouquet feels heavier as I stare at the flowers. This is a first. He’s never done anything like it before, and I feel like I could float into the sky. I look around for a vase and the best I can come up with is a coffee can. I pour the grounds into a bag, fill the can with water, and arrange the roses. I’m thinking I’ll keep them forever, and then I remember that I’m moving out the day after tomorrow.

I take a picture and send it to Melody before running for the shower. If I’m going to make it to the hotel for brunch anywhere close to ten, I have to hurry. I do a quick rinse and am pulling on my jeans when I remember the picture with Ashton on his Facebook page, and a stab of guilt stops me in my tracks. I hope Derek hasn’t seen it yet, but I’ll deal with it in the taxi on the way to the hotel.

The cab company promises fifteen minutes and I curse myself for sleeping in on the biggest day of my life. I check my messages and there are dozens: from Ruby, from Terry, from Melody and Jeremy. And one from Derek. I open that one first.

“Hey. Saw you on Facebook. You look happy.”

I want to scream in frustration.

No. No, I’m not happy. I want to be with you, all the time, in your arms, and I don’t care about any of this garbage.

I knew I should have called him last night, or at least sent a text. Now I’m explaining, not giving him a heads-up. I’m innocent, but I feel guilty as hell, and I have to talk myself down as I page through the rest of the messages.

Both Terry and Ruby have been inundated with requests for interviews. Ruby’s got me scheduled on the radio at 2:00 today and a TV show at 4:00. Terry wants to know how many phone interviews I can do between now and the show. Sound check’s at 6:00, so it’ll be tight, but every one I do will sell records, I hope, so it’s not about what’s easy for me.

I respond to all the messages and go downstairs to wait for the car. Melody’s amped out of her mind to see my video in heavy rotation on the music channels, and she says she’s recorded the clips from the party that have aired so far. Jeremy’s message is much the same, but with a sly reference to Ashton at the end, which doesn’t surprise me. Of course he’d be plugged into the whole Hollywood gossip scene. That picture could start a firestorm in the right hands.

When the cab arrives, I give the driver the hotel name and then dial Derek’s cell. He answers, and I hear conversation in the background.

“Derek! Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“They finally got there? Awesome.”

“Really. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Well, I figure if I’m going to keep on your radar, I gotta up my game some.”

I try to decide if that’s a dig over the photo and decide I don’t care. “They’re the best, Derek. I…I don’t know what to say, besides I miss you so much I think I’m going to explode.”

“Well, don’t do that before your big show tonight. A lot of people will be let down. I saw your vid and it’s my new favorite. But then again I’m biased.”

“You should be.” I pause. “Did you see the photo with that actor?”

“You mean Ashton?” he says, his tone neutral. “Yeah. Couple of people mentioned it.”

“It was at the party last night. He’s buds with Sebastian, and he offered to pump my album as a favor to him. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah. You guys look like old friends.”

“Nah. I hardly know him. Oh, did I tell you my dad’s in town? They flew him in for the party. I hung out with him most of the night.”

“Nice. I’m pretty sure my label’s going to order pizza and beer for my party.”

“They are not. You’re going to be huge, and they know it.”

“I hope so, but I have to say, based on the early buzz of your video and the responses to the album, you’re on your way. It’s all positive.”

“Really? Where did you hear that?”

“It’s all over the web. My engineer’s kind of stalking you. He sent me like a dozen sites that reviewed the record, and words like ‘stunning’ and ‘awesome’ keep coming up.”

“They do not.”

“You really haven’t seen them?” he asks, his tone disbelieving.

“I slept late and I’m running for breakfast with my dad. I haven’t done anything but shower and get into the cab.”

“Then you’re in for a surprise. Big day, Sage. The day you go huge.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

His voice gets quiet. “Maybe not for most of us. But it will for you. It’s already starting.”

I can hear the envy in his words, and my stomach twists. Things aren’t supposed to be this way. It’s not a competition. “You’re right behind me, Derek. We’ll both do well. You’ll see.”

“I hope so. But I’m not going to hold my breath on being all over MTV when I release. I’ve never seen anything like this. You’re going to be like Beyoncé times Taylor Swift squared.”

I take a deep breath. “I’d settle for happy, with you.”

“Count me in.”

“Then fly out and prove it.”

We arrive at the hotel, and though I don’t want to hang up, I have to go. “Derek, I’m here. My dad’s waiting. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sure. But don’t kill yourself trying. Sounds like you’re going to be pretty busy today.”

I think about all the things I’ve committed to, topped off with the concert, and sigh. “It’s crazy.”

“Welcome to the life.” He pauses and all I hear is static on the line. “I really do miss you so much it hurts,” he says.

“Whatever you feel, double it, and you still won’t be close to how much I miss you.”

He sighs. “Be good, Sage. You earned this. Enjoy it.”

“Thanks, Derek. I love the flowers.”

“I wish I was there to deliver them in person.”

I shake my head in frustration and close my eyes. “Oh, Derek,” I manage weakly.

His voice is a whisper. “I know.”

 

Chapter 28

My dad’s standing outside the hotel entrance, and I trot up the stairs to meet him. I’ve got my disguise on – hat, shades, T-shirt and ratty jeans – so I’m not concerned anyone will recognize me. The thought stops me. I’ve been assuming that won’t change, but if I get really big, I’m kidding myself. Even without anything announcing rock star in the house, it’s inevitable that my anonymity will be sacrificed. I’ll enjoy this while it lasts, then, and chock it up to the kinds of problems only the lucky have.

We hug and he leads me to the restaurant. After ordering, he shakes his head as though seeing me for the first time.

“I can’t tell you how stunned I was by your performance last night, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad, Dad. It means a lot to me that you enjoyed it.”

“I just wish your mother had seen it. Maybe it would have been enough to give her a reason to…to keep on trying.”

I look away. “I’ve been reading her diary a lot, Dad. I don’t think anything you or I did would have changed things. She had something broken inside her, and nobody could have fixed it.”

“Maybe. But I find that hard to accept. She wasn’t like that when we got married…”

“People change. She obviously did. And you guys were awfully young when you hooked up, so there’s no way of telling how she really was. Maybe she was trying to fight it at first. Or maybe it’s like a slippery slope, where you start slow and pretty soon you’re out of control. I think it’s more like that, based on the entries. One day she woke up and she was someone she didn’t like, and she couldn’t get away from that person no matter what she did.”

He studies me in silence. “You’ve learned a lot in a short time, Sage. I hope that wisdom stays with you. The life you’re going to lead on the road…there’s going to be a lot of temptation.”

I laugh. “Dad. Chill. I’ll deal with it. I won’t wind up like Mom. I’ve got my issues, but they aren’t hers. Thank God.”

“I’m not sure I want to know…”

I smile. “Don’t worry, Dad. Just the usual stuff. Nothing fatal.”

“Sage, I’m always here for you when you need someone to talk to.”

“I know. But some things you just have to figure out on your own.” I don’t say that when I really needed him to be there he wasn’t, so I got good at carrying my own weight at a young age. We’ve been getting along well and I don’t want to introduce any poison into our relationship. Some day I’ll have to come to grips with my abandonment issues, and I’ll do so as I’ve dealt with everything – by myself.

The food is near miraculous, and I overeat, my guilt taking a backseat to my ravenous appetite. The prices are even more heavenly, and I do a double-take when the bill comes. My dad signs it to the room, against my protests, but I stop fighting when I realize that all of this is likely to be charged against my royalties anyway, so I’m paying for it just the same as if I pulled out my wallet.

It’s 11:15 when we finish up, and I’m keenly aware of the passage of time. In just a few short hours I’ll be standing on the largest stage I’ve ever been on, doing my first stadium sound check. In between that I have a blazillion phone interviews, the radio, and the TV, and I’m feeling that creeping sensation of suffocating I always get when there are too many obligations to fit into one day.

We hug just inside the entry doors as the valet summons a taxi from the waiting line. I take a final look at my father as I slide into the backseat, and then I’m headed back to the apartment for a few minutes of quiet time before the onslaught begins for real.

My phone blows up. It’s Terry, and she sounds more animated than usual.

“Response to the video has been overwhelming. It’s on YouTube and it’s already breaking records. And early reports from a friend of mine at you-know-where says that downloads of your songs are overwhelming the servers. It’s not a question of whether you’ll hit the Billboard charts, it’s how high you’ll open on them.”

“That’s great, right?”

“Absolutely. For a debut record, this is unprecedented. More like what we’d expect to see from a major act. I’d say you’re already on your way.”

“Good. Maybe I’ll be able to afford decent motels on tour?”

“Well, let’s hope. I always advise my acts to keep their hopes low and their irritation threshold high. Once we see how the merchandise is moving, we’ll have a better feel for the budget. Right now we’re going to still treat it as a shoestring, which means a van and three rooms each night – one for the band, one for the crew, and one for you and Amber.”

BOOK: Best Of Everything
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