More Than Music (24 page)

“We have a problem,” Dan said on Saturday morning when he showed up for rehearsal. “I just talked to Steve, and he said the producers have changed their minds about ‘Bad Romance.’ Now they’re saying you can’t use it after all and have to choose something else.”

“What?” I must have misunderstood him. No way could we have worked on this song for all those hours and now be unable to use it. Not with only two days until the live show. Nope. Not happening. Denied.

Jared gripped his bass so hard his knuckles went white. “But we’ve been practicing it all week. And we’ve already recorded it!”

“Did Steve say why?” Kyle asked. “Is there anything we can do to change the producers’ minds?”

Dan shook his head. “He just said there was a problem, and no one can use that song anymore. It really blows, but they’ve done this before in previous seasons. I’m bummed, too. Your version sounded great.”

“Shit. What are we supposed to do now?” Hector asked.

“How are we going to get another song ready by the live show?” I asked, breathless and jumpy, like the walls were closing around me.

Dan yanked over a chair and put on his reading glasses. “We’ll pick another song right now, and I’ll give you the keys to the studio so you can practice as much as you need. I’ll cancel your interview tomorrow, too, so you can use that time to record the new song. I’m really sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”

He suggested we cover another pop song, something unexpected that we could do a rock version of, but none of us knew what to choose. We were still too excited by our version of “Bad Romance,” too in love with the changes we’d made to think about any other song. With that thought, Carla’s words came back to me about how I was so obsessed with Jared I couldn’t think about another guy, and they sparked an idea. She adored Bruno Mars and I’d learned some of his songs to play for her, and I could definitely relate to one of them right now.

“What about ‘Locked Out of Heaven’ by Bruno Mars?” I suggested. The guitar in it sounded like something by The Police and I demonstrated for them, busting out the twangy chords from the verses and then the faster chorus riffs.

“That’s a good one,” Hector said. “It has almost a punk rock beat to it at times.”

“Perfect,” Dan said. “And the ladies at home will love Jared singing it, too.”

Jared scowled, no doubt thinking of why I’d chosen this song. Maybe it was cruel, but I hoped every time Jared sang it he thought about me and what he was missing. He might have argued for a different song, but Kyle and Hector loved it. Dan got it quickly approved by the producers, and it was decided.

W
e worked late into the night and returned early Sunday for another long day, rehearsing in the morning and recording in the afternoon. By the evening, we all wanted to kill each other.

“The vocals in the second verse are still not right,” Jared said, as we listened to the recording for the hundredth time. “I need to redo them.”

“They’re
fine
,” Kyle said. “We don’t have time to do them over.”

The sound guys were taking a break, and Dan had left an hour ago. I rested my head on the table, too tired to move. When you played the same song nonstop for that many hours, it became like a word you’d repeated too many times: It didn’t make sense anymore. That’s the point we were at.

Jared continued on as if he hadn’t heard his brother. “And the beat in the pre-chorus is off, too.”

“Are you kidding me?” Hector asked. “I’ve recorded it three times already!”

“Well, do it again. We need to get this right.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it!”

Jared played the section again. “Right there! How can you not hear that?”

“Why don’t you go in there and play it then?”

“Maybe I will!”

“Right, because this is the Jared Cross band, and you can do
everything
!”

“You want to trade places? You think it’s so easy, getting in front of thousands of people and baring your soul on stage? Or answering the same stupid questions over and over again in interviews? Please, be my guest!”

“Guys, stop,” Kyle said, raising his hands between them. “We need to call it a night.”

“Seriously,” I said. “We’ve been here since 7 AM. I can barely see straight, I’m starving, and my hands are killing me.” Not to mention, this was starting to get ugly. Hector and Jared often bickered and then quickly made up, but never quite like this.

Jared rubbed his face, visibly exhausted. “No, the song isn’t done until it’s perfect. You can leave if you want, but I’m staying.”

I had no doubt he would, too. Jared was not only a perfectionist, but he was hardest on himself. If we didn’t stop him, he would work on this all night, and then he’d be a wreck at the live show.

“Jared, please.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “The song sounds great. If we stay any longer, we won’t have any energy to perform tomorrow.”

“She’s right,” Kyle said. “Your voice already sounds like you’ve been swallowing glass. You need to rest more than any of us.”

“One more hour,” Jared said. “Let me tweak a few things, and then I’ll be done.”

“Whatever, I’m out,” Hector said and banged through the door. So much for our band’s “cohesion.”

I sighed, resigning myself to a long night in this cold, stuffy room. “I wonder if there are any more of those sandwiches in the kitchen.”

“I already checked. There aren’t,” Kyle said. “Go get something to eat. I’ll stay with him.”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to abandon them, but Jared had already put his headphones back on and was in the zone again, and there wasn’t much I could do at this point. All my parts were recorded, and I didn’t have the energy to do them over another time. Kyle had studied sound mixing in school, so he was more of a pro at this stuff than me anyway. Besides, Kyle knew how to handle his brother better than anyone.

“All right, but I’m going to check on you both later to make sure you get some rest. Don’t let him burn himself out.”

“I won’t.” Kyle gave me a quick squeeze, and I left. Jared never even looked up.

S
ean ran over to me the instant I walked into the lobby of the hotel. “Maddie!”

“Hey,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Naturally I’d run into him when I hadn’t slept, showered, or eaten anything other than coffee and bagels over the last forty-eight hours.

“I saw that whole thing with the photo. I can’t believe what people said about you. Are you all right?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s just a big misunderstanding.” I hadn’t even had time to think about that drama, not with the new drama of the song change, but his words reminded me I was supposed to go out with him. I wanted nothing more than to pass out in my bed, but eating real food sounded pretty good at this point, too. And maybe Jared was right, and being seen with Sean would dispel some of the rumors about us.

“Hey, do you want to grab that dinner I promised you?” I asked.

“Yeah, totally. Right now?”

“If you’re free,” I said, and he nodded. “But before we go, I want to be up front with you, so this doesn’t get weird. We’re just going out as friends, okay?”

“Of course.” He burst into laughter. “Oh, did you think I was asking you out on a date before?”

“No! I mean, I wasn’t sure, and I think you’re great and all, but with the show and…” This was getting super awkward. Time to shut up.

He grinned. “Hey, I’d totally be interested, but I have a girlfriend back home.”

“Oh, okay. Good.” It was a relief to know I wouldn’t be leading Sean on and that he didn’t expect anything from me other than a friendly dinner.

“Besides, Jared would kill me,” Sean added.

“I doubt that,” I muttered.

“You’re really not together?”

“Nope.” And this time, it felt like the truth when I said it.

We went through the revolving doors and debated the merits of the different restaurants at LA Live, finally settling on a brewery that blasted rock music and had good burgers. Perfect for a casual dinner with a friend, and since it was popular with people from the show, we’d definitely be seen together. A part of me hoped Jared would stumble back from the studio and catch me with Sean, run to my arms and kiss me in front of everyone, and say he didn’t care who knew about us as long as we could be together. Yes, that level of cheese actually ran through my head. What could I say—I was running on four hours of sleep.

Though Jared never showed up to offer declarations of love, I still had a good time with Sean. We laughed about what a bad mentor Angel was, and he told me she’d shown up completely wasted for all her rehearsals this week.

“I have no idea how our song with her is going to go tomorrow,” he admitted.

I whined about how the producers had changed our song at the last minute, but he didn’t seem surprised. He said they’d denied his band from doing “Some Nights” by fun. for the first live show and that he’d heard about bands having other problems, too. Recording times getting switched without notice, interviews getting cancelled at the last minute, photo shoots that just never happened. We were lucky we had Dan keeping on top of these things for us, but it sounded like the other mentors weren’t quite as hands-on.

Sean and I argued over which band on Team Lance would make it to the finals, since it was obvious Fairy Lights would be the last band on Team Lissa. I told him all about how Lacey had stolen my glasses and probably leaked that photo of us, but I wasn’t sure he believed me. She’d been perfectly friendly with him, so maybe it was only me she hated for some reason.

Being with Sean was easy, and there was no need to sneak around or lie to anyone about spending time together. I had zero romantic feelings for him, but it was a relief to talk to someone going through a lot of the same things I was. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to spend time with someone who wasn’t in my band either. I loved the guys like family, but after spending every waking minute with them, I also kind of never wanted to see them again.

After our meal, we walked back toward the hotel but were stopped by a small group of people.

“Oh my god, you’re the guitarist who fell off the stage!” one of them said, and the others chimed in with, “Yeah!” and “Whoa!”

I was taken aback for a second. No one had ever recognized me in public before; it was always Jared who got mobbed by fans. Would they call me a klutz? A slut, especially since I was with Sean? Or one of the other horrible things people were saying on the Internet?