Rising Star (22 page)

Chapter 37

Lisa, Adam and I discuss my performance. And the first decision, is whether to sing the planned song or go with a new one. At first I’m against the idea of using our upbeat pop song. Not only is it not how I’m feeling right now, but it seems wrong to sing the song that She’s All That should have performed together.

“You can’t go out there like a girl who’s lost her band,” says Lisa. “You need to go strong. Pick a song which shows your confidence.”

I consider this. It seems like good advice. Though frankly, right now, I feel so lost I appreciate anything to steer me through the next day.

“The song we were planning to perform was upbeat,” I admit. “It’s about taking the nerve to approach a guy on the dance floor.”

“Well, that sounds perfect,” says Lisa approvingly.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m not sure I want to sing it without the girls. It seems… wrong somehow.”

Lisa moves a little closer, and takes my hand in her pink fingernails.

“Listen to me,” she says, her soft blue eyes intent. “Bands break up. It’s hard. But you are too talented to waste. You got that?”

I hesitate, blushing a little under the praise.

“You already told me, it was misunderstanding,” Lisa continues. “If they’re true friends, they’ll come around.”

“I hope so.”

“Well I know so,” says Lisa determinedly. “You go out and give it your all. Tammy and George will realise, you’re not doing it to hurt them. You were made to be a star Summer Evans.”

I’m blushing even harder now.

“Thank you,” I manage. “That means so much.”

Lisa is telling me I’m going to be a star.

On one level I’m incredibly flattered. I still have that deep dead feeling in the pit of my stomach. That my two best friends can’t forgive me. But I’m growing in confidence that I can do a good job of performing solo. Even without much rehearsal.

After seven hard hours, we have my performance down. I’m so grateful to Lisa and Adam, that it’s hard to put into words.

“Thank you,” I say to Lisa. “I’m sorry if I haven’t seemed so cheerful. But really, I am so, so grateful you took the time to help me.”

“It’s my pleasure,” smiles Lisa. “I know you’ll give a great performance. And I’ll make sure your styled to suit,” she adds, with a wicked smile.

Her eyes drift up and down my body.

“We’ll arrange something to show off that cute little figure,” she decides.

“Nothing too revealing,” growls Adam.

Lisa winks at me.

Then she plucks out her phone.

“I’m ready to make the call to production,” she says glancing at Adam and then back at me.

“It’s do or die Summer,” she adds, “I need to tell the production crew how to arrange the stage. Once I’ve made this call, you’re performing alone. No pulling out.”

I nod sadly, unable to resist checking my phone again. The display is empty.

“Make the call,” I say. “I guess I have to accept it. They’re not coming back tonight.”

Lisa makes the call, and Adam studies my face.

“You made the right decision,” he says firmly. “You’ll be great up there.”

“I guess I don’t have time to think about it,” I sigh, checking my watch. Time has flown so fast with our tight schedule.

“I’m on stage in under an hour,” I add.

I pull out my phone and compulsively check the display one last time.

No missed calls. No texts.

“I’m leaving my phone here,” I decide. “I’ll only be checking it right up til
l the last moment. It will drive me crazy.”

“You’re sure?” asks Adam.

I nod.

“It’s too late for Tammy and George now anyway,” I say. “And I’ll be more upset, going on stage, knowing they’re still mad. At least this way I can pretend they might have relented. I can be more focused.”

“That’s my girl,” says Adam proudly. He looks over to Lisa, who is hanging up her phone.

She nods at him.

It’s done then. I’m booked to perform solo.

Unexpectedly, I feel a surge of excitement.

“Come on,” says Adam, taking my hand. “The other acts will already be at the TV studio. Time to get you to your gig.”

Chapter 38

We arrive at the TV studios in a rush. All the other acts have been here over an hour, and are dressed and stage ready.

The show is already starting, but I’m not on until last. Adam and Lisa decided extra rehearsal time was more important, so we pushed things right until the last minute.

Jenny Grogan, however, does not agree with this policy. She is in high dudgeon as she drags me to the dressing room, barking orders at me to get ready fast.

“Everything to do with you causes trouble,” she accuses, as a parting shot, as she flings me into the dressing room. “We’ve had to change the whole show format for you young lady. I just hope it was worth it.”

As Jenny clacks away down the corridor, I take in my room.

There’s a blue sequinned dress on a hanger. I smile.

I guess this is the costume Lisa arranged for me.

I hold up the dress. It’s short, with a large slash across the midriff. As I pull it on, I can hear the faint sound of Scandelous singing.

Shit. I really am late. The acts have already started performing.

Moving quickly, I zip the dress, and glance at myself in the mirror.

Oooo. I love it!

I could kiss Lisa. I think this is one of her old stage outfits from years ago. But it’s timeless, and totally suits my style.

The dress is a stunning flash of bright blue sequin, which skims my butt, and slices a revealing slash from under my bust to across my hips.

Adam won’t like this.
I decide.
But I love it.

“Cute dress,” says a voice from the doorway. I glance up to see Lisa, smiling at me.

“I love it,” I grin. “Thank you.”

“Think you’ll have time to fix your hair and make-up?” she asks. “You’ve got another three acts before you’re on.”

“Yeah,” I say, grabbing a brush and mascara. “I’m used to getting myself stage ready,” I add.

Lisa nods approvingly. “Like me when I started out.”

She pauses, taking me in.

“Give it your all Summer,” she says. “I always said you were made to sing solo.” She gives me an encouraging smile, and I return it gratefully, feeling a little stronger.

Then she sweeps out of the dressing room, leaving me to apply glittering blue eye-shadow, and tease my hair into something approaching a style.

I’m done with my hair and make-up, as I hear Dev.as.station performing. The sounds of Seventh Heaven had already filtered into the dressing room, as I was putting the finishing touches to my look.

One more act.

Deven is next. Then me.

I take a quick look in the mirror.

Not perfect. I could use some accessories. But it’s good enough.

Time to head to backstage.

Chapter
39

Adam is waiting for me, as I scurry backstage and take my place in the wings.

I beam to see him.

“Are you allowed to be back here?” I whisper.

“Probably not. But I forgot to give you something,” he says.

“You did?”

He takes my wrist, and clips on the beautiful bracelet he bought me from Tiffany’s.

“A perfect fit,” he says approvingly.

I study the bracelet. The deep colour matches with my blue sequins.

“I love it,” I say, “Thank you. It matches my dress too.”

Adam steps back, taking in my outfit for the first ti
me.

“You’re not going on stage like that.” he glowers.

“You’re kidding me?” I look down at my skimpy outfit.

“No way,” he says. “Am I letting you on stage in that attire.”

I’m caught between annoyance and affection.

“I’m due on stage in about a minute,” I remind him. “You’ll have to put up with it.”

He frowns. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Adam approaches me, and takes me firmly by the hips.

“I should be the only one who gets to see this.” He moves tight against my body, running his hand over my bare stomach.

I shiver.

“You can’t tell me what to wear,” I protest, trying to pretend his words aren’t having an effect on me. “Lisa picked this out for me especially.”

I push him away glancing out onto the stage.

Deven’s song is coming to an end.

Adam scowls at me.

“I promise you there’ll be consequences later,” he says, low enough for me to hear.

Oh! Consequences… I remember those.

The thought gives me a little thrill. Although really I have enough to contend with – without Mr Caveman putting last minute dress restrictions on me.

“Fine,” I agree. “Have it your way.”

His bad temper seems to instantly dissipate at this. I swear I can see his mind working out what he’s going to do to me later.

Deven is finishing his song. I’m next. And the lust which Adam has managed to spark is washed away by sudden nerves.

“I don’t know how I can sing for those people,” I admit, “it doesn’t feel right without Tammy and George.”

Adam’s face softens. He strokes my face gently.

“You don’t have to sing for them Summer,” says Adam, taking my chin in his hands. “Sing for me.”

I nod, feeling a kind of calmness descend.

It’s ironic. A few years ago, I would have given anything to be singing in front of a huge TV audience.

Now, without my girls with me, I feel a sense of emptiness. I can’t stand to think of them watching on.

The audience explode in applause, and I realise Deven’s song has ended.

Adam nods to the stage, and then picks up my guitar.

“You’re up.” He hangs it gently over my shoulder.

My heart is in my mouth.

Adam gives me a final kiss.

“Knock
’em dead.”

I smile. “I’ll do my best.”

The fanfare sounds, and instead of She’s All That, it’s only my name, which is announced.

Summer Evans!

It’s enough to thrill me, and fill me with guilt at the same time.

Come on Summer
, I urge myself.
All your life you’ve wanted this
.

Somehow I manage to put one foot in front of the other, and make it out onto the stage.

The guitar around my shoulder feels like a welcome shield.

I don’t get a huge cheer like the other acts. I guess they’re not quite sure what to make of my sudden solo performance.

There’s a vapour smell, as dry ice is pumped onto the stage. And the lights swing towards me, dazzling. Applause rings out, polite rather than enthusiastic.

It’s like they’re challenging me to justify my solo appearance.

Come on Summer!
I urge myself.
Show them what you can do!

With a practised hand I take the microphone. And as soon as it’s in my grip I feel more comfortable.

But as the stage nerves subside, I’m struck by a deep sudden knowledge.

I can’t sing the
song we rehearsed. I need to show them how I really feel.

I can’t be someone else up here, pretending the split doesn’t matter.

I can only be me. And the real me is hurting.

The realisation brings clarity. I grip the mike firmly.

“I guess you’ve all heard,” I say, in a voice to cut through the crowd’s applause. “That She’s All That have split up.”

My words bring a silence to the crowd. They’re suddenly more interested than before.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m fine with it,” I continue. “Those girls meant everything to me. I never thought I’d be standing here without them.”

My voice chokes a little, but I rally.

“So I’m not gonna pretend everything’s all right,” I continue, “and sing the song She’s All That rehearsed.”

I look down at the guitar, and take it in my hands.

“I’m gonna sing you something else,” I say. “This song says how I really feel.”

I pause.

“This is for Tammy and George.”

There’s a deathly hush now. I signal to the sound crew that I don’t want them to lead in with my dance song. And I see them open
-mouthed in confusion and horror.

I know what I need to sing.

I’m going to sing the song I wrote when I was fifteen. For the boy who broke my heart. But this time it means so much more.

As I strum my guitar, I see the sound crew leap into action. After the first chord sounds out, I can hear they’ve adjusted the equipment to follow this new acoustic number.

Closing my eyes, I let my thoughts drift to George and Tammy, and what they mean to me.

And then I sing.

If I could take heaven in my hand

And all the stars too

If I could take down the moon

And give it to you

I would make you stay

Please stay.

But my hands are too small

To hold heaven tight

And all those stars and moonbeams

They won’t come down at night

So all I have is this small voice

Urging you true

Don’t go. Please don’t go.

I open my eyes, and let the tears come. And in this moment I am the song. My words are part of my body. All I want is for Tammy and George to know how I feel.

That I never wanted them to go.

I move softly into the chorus, feeling my way, sounding out every note to represent the way I feel inside.

I hardly register the audience’s reaction as I play through the song. All that matters is I deliver this message.

And as I slide to the end of the final note, I feel purged.

I’ve done what I set out to do. I’ve told Tammy and George how I feel, in the best way I know.

It’s all I’ve got.

There’s a stunned silence as my last chord fades. And for a moment I think the audience didn’t like the song. Then I see shocked faces settled into amazement, and slow applause ramps up to a shockwave of noise.

“Thank you very much,” I gasp gratefully, bowing. The clapping get louder. Cheers begin to echo out.

Suddenly it’s all too much. I just want to get off stage.

I turn and walk quickly away, my guitar bouncing at my hip.