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That’s all they’re doing.
Just standing there.
Staring.
And I get the feeling I might have just blown it.
Nick says something to one of the men, and then he shakes his head.Great.This can’t be good. He scribbles something down on a piece of paper and hands it to Nick before all three of the men in suits turn and walk briskly away without once even acknowledging my existence.
Yeah, that’s not a good sign.
Anxiety dances up my spine as I place my guitar down gently beside me and stand on shaky legs. Nick walks toward me. He leans his elbows on the edge of the stage and looks up at me.
“Okay, so…” he says.
“They hated me, didn’t they?”
“Not exactly.” He shrugs his broad shoulders, and it’s so non-committal that it’s hard to decipher his expression. “They hated the arrangement of the songs. They don’t want ‘Chaos’ to be included. They think it’s too downbeat, or some shit. They listened to your demo tapes and reckon the new one you just finished working on will be fine. But they want you to switch the order of ‘Blended’ with ‘Rose Gold Moon.’ Oh, and they don’t want you sitting down. They want you on your feet, moving around, working the crowd. Other than that, we’re all set.”
My mouth falls open with shock. “I’m… I’m in?”
“Yep, you’re in,” he says with a cool glance. “We’re rehearsing again tomorrow at eleven and then on Friday afternoon at three o’clock. Be on time, because we’ll run through the entire set with lighting, smoke, mirrors. The works.”
“I’ll be here.”
“On the night of the performance, I’ll need you at the theater at least four hours before showtime. You’ll be with wardrobe, hair, and makeup for ages, and then we like to allow plenty of time to warm up your vocals. We have a coach that works with the guys, so she’ll spend some time with you too.” He glances over his shoulder toward an office area that’s been set up in the far corner of the warehouse. “Let me go and sort out a stage pass for you with Dee. You won’t be allowed backstage without an identification tag.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks, Brinley. You did amazing, and I’m super excited to see where this could go for you. Meet me over at the desk in a few minutes once you’re done packing up.”
“Thank you so much, Nick.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says with a satisfied smirk. “Just don’t go accusing my lead singer of shit like that ever again, and we’ll have no trouble.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good to hear.” He turns and walks away from me, and I’m left standing in the middle of the now-empty stage with a million thoughts rattling around inside my head and even more nerves in my stomach than I had before I arrived.
I didn’t get to see Reed before I left. The band was off limits to everyone. That’s what they told me when I tried to go backstage to say goodbye. Dee watched me like a hawk, reluctantly handing me my backstage pass and ID for the event. If eyes could burn, I’d be rolling around the ground in flames with the way she glared at me.
And that’s fine. I’m a no-one, and they are, well, they’re Cold Neptune. They’re a big-name act and this is their livelihood. So, I wasn’t at all offended when the massive bouncer dressed completely in black crossed his arms and nodded toward the door for me to leave.
Okay, then.
Once I’m outside, the cool breeze on my face and the scent of the Hudson River brings me crashing back down to reality.
Just where I like it.
Fishing my phone out from my purse, I send Reed a quick text message telling him thank you and that I appreciate everything he’s done for me. I don’t expect him to answer me, of course. I know he’s crazy busy at the moment with rehearsals, but I’m not even all the way to the corner of the street when my phone vibrates in my hand.
I shouldn’t be smiling right now. But I totally am.
Reed: Heard you killed it. Congrats. I’ll message you later tonight if you want to tell me all about it.
I shouldn’t reply immediately. But I totally do.
Me: I did. And I do.
