Page 12 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

Lyric chewed on her bottom lip before nodding. “Yeah. It’s now or never.”

“Okay, here goes,” Andi said with a smile.

She dialed the number on the first callback, and Lyric looked over her shoulder to see it was Adra. The tall, shy synth player who’d heard her moaning over pizza. The memory brought a smile to her face.

Andi dialed his number and put the call on speaker. Lyric wanted to hear their reactions and how they treated her agent.

“Hello?” he answered, voice deep and rumbly but polite.

“Hello. I’m looking for Adra.”

“That’s me,” he replied, and some rustling sounded in the background. “Can I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Andi Maylen speaking, Lyric Ceran’s agent. We wanted to thank you for your application and extend a congratulations. You’ve been chosen to move on to the second round of auditions.”

He sucked in a deep breath, and then a very long pause took place.

“Am I being pranked, or is this for real?”

Andi shot Lyric a gaze filled with mirth and chuckled into the phone. “There’s no prank, Mr. Wards. For now, I’m going to email you a permission form, and once you sign consent for an interview with the omega center and send it back, we’ll meet again in one week. Does that work for you?”

“Holy sugar,” he whispered. Lyric’s lips twitched. “I mean—yes. Yes, that absolutely works for me. Thank you so much.”

“Perfect. If you have any questions or concerns before then, feel free to email or call.”

“Of course. Thank you again. So much.”

“Anytime. Have a good day now.”

Andi ended the call and turned a blinding smile toward her. “He is so sweet. And what was that holy sugar business?”

“I don’t know but it was adorable,” Lyric admitted, and mentally batted the butterflies away from her stomach.

The next few phone calls were unremarkable or went to voicemail. Which was disappointing, but Andi promised to let her know how they went.

“Hello?” one of the applicant’s voices came through the line. It was one of the bassists, and his voice sounded sleepy.

“Hello, I’m looking for… Renold White?” Andi asked politely.

“Speaking. Who’s this?”

“This is Andi Maylen—”

“Holy shit, you’re Lyric’s agent!” he practically shouted. Lyric winced and leaned away from the speaker of the phone.

“Ah, yes, that’s me. We wanted to call and—”

“We? Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

Lyric’s eyes widened and she made a cutting motion across her neck.

Andi’s brows dipped as her mouth opened and closed a few times. “No, she’s not here with me, I apologize for the misunderstanding. I wanted to call and—”

“Did I make it? Is this the callback? When do I get to meet her?” He asked the questions rapid-fire, and Lyric’s stomach turned sour at his enthusiasm. He sounded more like a fan, and while his audition seemed decent enough, she didn’t want to tour with a fan, she wanted to have a talented, trusted musician at her back.

She made another cutting motion across her neck before crossing her pointer fingers in an X shape.

Andi got the message and quickly ended the call with, “Sorry, I actually think I have dialed the wrong number. Have a good day!”