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Anticipation crackled in the air, and the room stilled.
Vance opened his big mouth, but before he could protest, Harper’s fingers danced across the keys as she played the first few bars of “Every Time You Break My Heart.”
While similar to Vance’s pop tune, Harper’s instrumental version slowed the tempo and brought a raw delicacy to the song.
She caressed the keys, riffing the intro, and turned to the audience. “To me, ‘Every Time You Break My Heart’ is a ballad,” she explained, then directed her attention toward the choir. “I’ll sing the first verse. You can join in at the refrain. You’ll hear the changes. You’ll feel how the lyrics are meant to be sung.”
He removed his arm from Vance’s shoulders and left the man sucking his cheeks like a sulking toddler.
And then he forgot about Vance Vibe, and time stopped.
Harper parted her lips and turned a catchy pop song into a tapestry of lyrical bliss. Between her voice and the rich notes flowing from the piano, everyone, even the Bake or Bust PAs who’d been zipping around backstage, froze. Harper seduced the room with her voice. And just like she’d promised, the choir knew when to come in. Their combined sounds layered into a haunting ballad, complementing Harper’s rich, melodious tone as she sang lead vocals.
It was like watching music turn into magic.
And that was the beauty of a well-crafted song.
It elevated one’s mood.
It triggered inspiration.
It altered lives.
The masses didn’t hear this transcendent song.
They felt it.
They breathed it.
They lived it along with the musician.
Note by note, word by word, the verses entwined with the soul. Harmony and melody united like perfect lyrical chaos. And the result was a spark that ignited pure, untainted awe.
If someone in the auditorium had screamedfire,nobody would have moved a muscle.
Every person within earshot of Harper was unequivocally and indisputably starstruck. As if he were observing the human embodiment of song, she swayed and surrendered herself to the beat.
And one overwhelming truth prevailed.
Harper Presley was a take-your-breath-away showstopper.
Just when he thought the muscles in his face might snap from smiling, the song ended as powerfully and delicately as it had begun.
The choir stood motionless, and Harper rested her hands in her lap as the final chord hung in the air, a ribbon of sound drifting higher and higher, until it was gone, like a dream.
The room was rendered speechless as every pair of eyes focused on the songbird perched on the piano bench and bathed in the golden spotlight.
“She’s a star,” Donna whispered to Damien.
Damn right.
The air crackled and was on the brink of detonating into a burst of applause when Vance turned on his heel and bumped the table with the trays. The scrape of the table legs skidding across the weathered hardwood screeched through the auditorium, but no one paid any attention. The audience was mesmerized by Harper’s performance and didn’t give a damn about the crabby Vance Vibe.
“Come on, Barbie, we’re out of here,” he barked, rubbing the spot on his hip where he’d struck the table as he stormed off the stage.
Oblivious to her asshat husband’s antics, Barbie blew a kiss to the audience. “Bye-bye,” she chirped and teetered off.
As if the room had been waiting for Vance to leave, the crowd went wild the second the winning couple disappeared. People sprang to their feet, clapping, whistling, and hooting. The applause resonated like a living organism. He surveyed the sea of smiling faces and met Schuman’s gaze. Eyes shining, the old man’s grin lit up his face as Tanner flashed two thumbs-up.
