Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I’d been kind of a mess when I’d played for Ardy last week, and this was so much bigger than that. So it was shocking when a calm moved over me and took hold. I flashed a relaxed smile at the crowd, positioned my fingers for the opening chord, and readied my pick.
Three, two, one . . . go.
My hands moved easily, and I strummed with energy, letting the music keep me loose. Although I wouldn’t move from my spot during the song, I didn’t want the performance to be static. I filled my lungs with air to support my vocals and belted out the opening lyric. As my voice and instrument flooded the music hall, I gathered strength.
There wasn’t anything like the sound of it.
Everything I felt, I channeled into the emotion of the song. I knew all about being restless. About striving for something and not getting it. But for the first time, I found meaning in the song that was uplifting. I hadn’t found what I was looking for yet, but there was a promise that I could.
It was hard not to keep my gaze fixated on Erika as I sang. I was looking for even more from her than we had, and a spark ignited inside me. I could find whatever I needed to and convince her to truly give us a chance.
Her expression as she watched me was . . . intense. Captivated. She stared at me like how I was sure I’d gazed at her the night she’d sang ‘Power.’ The rest of the small crowd watched with different levels of interest. One of the other agents, a dude in the back, nodded along in time with the music, but stared at his phone.
The only person who seemed as mesmerized as Erika was by my performance was the girl who worked the front desk at Warbler. Charlotte, Erika had said her name was.
The girl gaped at me like I was naked. It wasn’t an entirely new experience for me. I’d had some girls legit toss their panties at me at bars, usually a bachelorette party where the women wanted to be wild and show off for their friends. Charlotte’s gobsmacked look didn’t hurt my ego either, but it also couldn’t compare with how Erika seemed to hang on each line I sang.
I could feel her with me on every note.
The three and a half minutes it took to play went so fast. I brought the song to a close, winding down the volume, the tempo, and power to demonstrate my control. Hopefully, I had the rest of the audience on the edge of their seats like Charlotte was. I sang the final refrain, struck the last note, and held still to let it wash over the crowd.
Their applause broke me from my daze and unleashed a smile from my lips.
“Thank you,” I said.
“How long have you been playing?” someone in the crowd asked.
I’d been told there was an interview at the end, and this was what I sensed Erika dreaded. My inexperience was a clear disadvantage. I relaxed my grip on the guitar neck and stood tall. “About five years.”
The next question came from a woman in the row in front of Erika. “Are you doing music full-time?”
“No, ma’am.” It was clear she wanted me to elaborate, and I struggled to maintain my smile. “I just finished school, so I’m taking as many gigs as I can get.”
“What do you do for work?”
“Sports training and some construction. Like, home remodels.”
“I thought you were a pool boy,” Ardy quipped.
I laughed to downplay my embarrassment. “Oh yeah. I do pools too.”
The interview turned serious. It continued with questions about what kind of show I’d like to put on if I landed the opening act. Who my musical influences were. If I were to perform a song from Stella’s library, which one would it be and why?
I was crushing my answers . . . all until the last question.
“What’s the largest audience you’ve performed to?”
The smile on my face froze and my voice wasn’t as solid as I wanted it to be. “I did a friend’s wedding that was, uh, probably four hundred people.”
This was Nashville, the music city, with venues on Broadway that could accommodate twenty-five hundred covers. Even more if it were outside, or in one of the auditoriums.
And it was likely my competitors had played them. I was up against people who’d moved to this town from all across the country with dreams of making it. Performers who had years of experience and far more skill than I did.
Hell, I’d met a guy one night at Blanche’s before my set who was a bouncer at Blake Shelton’s bar. He’d come from Vermont and taken the job only so he could fill in and do acoustics whenever they had a light entertainment week. Maybe he deserved to be up here more than I did. I hadn’t been hungry like that until recently.