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I was wrecked. It had been such a long day, and I hadn’t slept the night before because I’d been too buzzed about the audition. Shimmying myself out of my jeans, I threw my clothes in a neat pile on the floor and walked over to my dressing table.
I grabbed my brush, running it through my long dark hair as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I wasn’t bad looking. There was nothing about my appearance that I hated, except maybe my height—or lack of it. I didn’t have Dee’s supermodel hot looks, but I had that cute, girl-next-door-meets-emo-rock-chick kind of thing going on.
Tossing the brush on the table, I grabbed my iPod and crawled into bed. I found my Resurrection collection and pressed play. People learned full-on languages through passive listening.
With any luck, I would wake up and know every song word for word.
Chapter Three
Micah
Attractive young men in suits and stunning women in dresses that probably cost more than my month’s rent surrounded me as I walked into the Odyssey Room at The Bell Center. The place screamed elegance—not exactly the kind of venue I’d expect an indie rock band to be performing at.
A private party? That’s an understatement.
I sighed as a shiver raced down my spine. This could be my life. I couldn’t even imagine singing every night and getting paid for it, let alone in places like this. I’d never expected to come so far in such a short time.
To think, only three years ago I had been fourteen, living at home with a mother who despised me, about to be shipped off to yet another foster family. That’s when I had made the decision to leave, to take control of my own life and grab the bull by the horns. Caring for myself wasn’t that much of a stretch; I’d been doing it for years anyway. The only difference was now I at least had a say in how people treated me.
And here I was, twenty-one and about to live my dream.
No, I wasn’t that bad at math. Being a fourteen-year-old and living on the streets was a nightmare waiting to happen. Being a fourteen-year-old with a fake birth certificate saying I was eighteen helped me secure a job and a place to live. I’d worked my ass off to get to where I was. My job and independence had given me something I’d never had before: stability.
“This is insane.” Dee hung off my arm, her expression mirroring how I felt: Awe. Excitement. “I’ve never seen so many attractive people in one room before,” she breathed. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she pointed across the room. “Is that Hugh Jackman?”
I laughed and squinted at the figure sitting by the bar.
“Maybe.”
It did sort of look like him. I scanned the room, my eyes falling on the stage where the guys were setting up. “Will you be okay if I go and check in with the guys?” I asked her nervously.
“Trust me, I’ll be fine,” she said, her dark eyes twinkling. “And M? You’ll rock this.”
“Thanks. And behave,” I said, raising my eyebrows at her.
“What?” she giggled. “When have I ever not behaved?”
“When do you ever actually behave?” I groaned, shaking my head. It was like telling a fish to breathe out of water: it wasn’t going to happen.
I tugged at the hem of my short black dress, feeling naked from the amount of skin I was showing. I’d changed about a dozen times before settling on this—a black shift dress that showed a lot of cleavage and thigh. The funky silver bangles, dark eyeliner, and my ponytail, teased and pulled back, helped to complete the look I was going for.
Relax, M. You can do this.
I strutted over to the stage, hoping my walk oozed confidence.
“Hey,” I smiled, focusing on Harry. I’d done my research, and the consensus was that he was the ladies’ man of the group. He had a different girl hanging off his arm after every show and he loved to flirt. He was also the only one who’d attempted to be friendly to me the day before, so I felt confident he was my way in.
“Hey,” he said, flashing me a grin. His gaze combed appreciatively over my body. “You ready to show us what you’ve got?”
I arched my eyebrow. That was a loaded question.
“As ready as I’m going to be,” I replied evenly.
He handed me a sheet of paper. I sighed, relieved when I recognized the song. I knew most of the band’s songs, but word for word, singing it to a crowded bar? I wasn’t that confident.
“What, did you think we were going to spring an original on you?” he smirked. It wouldn’t have shocked me. But then again not much shocked me these days.
“How about you introduce me to the rest of the band?” I suggested sweetly, changing the subject. Even though I’d met them the day before, we hadn’t been officially introduced.
