From the Top - Chapter 41

I headed down the hallway towards the front entrance, backpack slung over my shoulder, ready to get home and start packing. I had to leave for LA on Monday and, unlike last time, I was going to be gone for at least two weeks this time, until the week after Christmas, which meant I had to figure out how to get everything packed and go through it a few times to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

I couldn’t, however, just leave. Although I had gotten permission to finish the semester one week early and had finished my last final today, I still needed to go by and see Dr. Wallace one last time, to make sure I wasn’t going to be hit with any surprises while I was away. He hadn’t done that kind of thing yet, but I wasn’t going to leave it up to chance. It would also give me some peace of mind and be less of a distraction at the competition if I knew I didn’t have anything annoying waiting for me when I came back.

Ms. Morgan waved me through as soon as I got into the office. Normally he was on bus duty, but he knew I was heading out today and he’d told me to stop by at the end of the day, so maybe he was expecting me.

His door was open, but he was focused on something in front of him, scribbling when I got outside his office. Not wanting to just barge in, I knocked on the doorframe.

“Dr. Wallace?” I prompted.

“Charlie! Yes, yes, come on in,” he said, waving me to one of the seats opposite his desk. “Thank you for stopping by on your way out. First, I wanted to commend you again on the event you and Mr. Lawson put on earlier this week. I’ve gotten nothing but glowing praise and the mayor is particularly pleased.”

“I was happy to help, and glad to see so many people there.”

He smiled. “I know you are, but I still think it needs to be said. The donations you helped raise for the city will go a long way toward helping this community, and I’m sure the mayor and city council will not forget this any time soon.”

I held my tongue. Despite what the mayor had said, I still wasn’t convinced all of that money would actually make it into the city coffers. With Kat’s father involved, no amount of promises would convince me it was on the up and up. But, I was also sure a high school kid pointing that out wouldn’t make a difference, nor did I see a benefit to arguing with the principal over it.

I simply said, “I’m glad I could help out.”

“I must say, I really enjoyed your performance as well, and I continue to be amazed by your abilities. As an educator, it’s so rewarding to work with a student as talented and driven as you. You should be very proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

I shrugged self-consciously. “I’m just trying to do my best.”

“And you certainly have,” Dr. Wallace continued. “In fact, I’ve received calls from the district office about the publicity the school received from your national TV appearance. They were thrilled to showcase one of our students being so diligent in their studies, even during a major competition. It reflects very well on us.”

I chuckled. “Well, hopefully it makes up for me suing them last year.”

“I have no doubt it has. You’ve become quite the role model for our students, and they specifically mentioned how happy they were with you. Between you and me, I think they wanted me to tell you that, to ensure there were no hard feelings about the... unpleasantness you faced over the last several years here at Carr.”

“There aren’t. I’m not one to hold grudges, and they did everything I asked when we talked at the end of last school year, and you’ve been more than fair to me all semester.”

“Good. I’ll be sure to relay your message,” he said.

No doubt they would attribute my mollification to Dr. Wallace, which was fine. He really had been fair, and I wasn’t lying. They had kept up with their side of our bargain. I could only imagine what trying to do this competition would have been like if Mr. Packer was still here.

“I know you probably have a lot to do to get ready to go to Hollywood, so I won’t keep you with too much chit-chat,” Dr. Wallace continued. “But I did want you to know that I’ve talked to your teachers, and it looks like your finals are all wrapped up. Not all the grades are in yet, but the ones that have come back so far have been very positive.”

“Good,” I said. “I wasn’t too worried, but it’s nice to have that confirmation before I head out.”

“Again, you’ve done all your work for this semester, so you are free and clear. I’m sure your classmates who still have another week of school are jealous that you get to start your break early.” He chuckled.

“I won’t rub it in too much,” I said, giving his joke a sympathy laugh. “And I do appreciate you working with me on all of this. It takes a lot of pressure off knowing I’ve got them wrapped up before I leave.”

“Good,” he said, before turning serious again. “Now, even if you win the entire thing, which I’m sure you will, I expect you back here and ready to learn after winter break. I know your music career is taking off, but your education is still important.”

I nodded. “Of course. I told you I was committed to finishing high school, and I am. Regardless of what happens with my career.”

“I’m glad to hear it, but I seem to remember you telling me you were going to finish high school and college. How are the applications we talked about?”

“I’ve sent in seven. UNC, NC State, Boston University, New York University, University of Maryland, and the University of Rochester. I know it will be after the deadline, but I might have to see about west coast schools if I win, because there’s a chance I’ll need to be out there if I get signed by a label.”

“Apply for them while you’re on your trip. We’re past early admission deadlines, but most of the schools have their regular decision deadlines in January and early February, so it’s not too late. But the sooner you get it in, the better. I don’t want you to have to take a gap year next year if you can help it. If you get into those schools and don’t need to accept, there’s no harm, but if you wait to do something in March or April or whenever you find out if you have to be out there instead of out here, it’ll be too late.”

“I understand. I’ll get them sent in.”

He smiled warmly. “Good. I expect great things from you, Charlie. This is just the beginning for you, so let’s get you a solid foundation.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re eager to get home and start your adventure.”

He stood and extended his hand.

I stood as well and shook it. “Thank you again for all your help this semester. I’ll see you in January.”

“Looking forward to it. Safe travels and know that everyone here will be rooting for you!”

***

As the plane taxied to the gate at LAX on Monday afternoon, I started to really feel the nerves and excitement. The prelims had been just something to try, and I’d gone in with no expectations. Actually, I’d gone in expecting to lose. Now that I was back in Los Angeles, about to compete in the live semi-finals, the reality of it had set in. Both Warren and Benny were sure if I won this thing, it would catapult me clear past where I was with MAC. While I felt confident I could win, there was still a lot riding on it, and the pressure was on.

Beyond that, I was also feeling a little lonely. Kat and Hanna were still in school until Wednesday, and my flight had been so early that everyone else was still asleep when I left for the airport. I knew they were all planning to fly out the week of Christmas for the finals, which said a lot about how certain they were I was going to make it through.

As I emerged from the tunnel into the terminal, I was surprised to see a couple of cameras waiting behind a rope line, pointed in my direction. One had the logo of The Stage on it and was probably there shooting B-roll again, to use in the packages they’d play right before each of us went up. More surprisingly were the other two, one from NBC, the same national outlet that was at the viewing party for the final prelim, and one had the logo of what I guessed to be a local station. NBC was the network that carried The Stage, so I tried not to get too big of a head about it. There was also a lady in what I guessed was a nice pantsuit standing next to them, holding a microphone.

Considering my last run-in with them, I slowed down, looking for an escape. Unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of places to go coming out of airport security, and she saw me almost as soon as I cleared the doors marking the point of no re-entry.

“Charlie! Hey, Charlie,” she said, waving me over.

Part of me just wanted to be a dick and walk past like it was nothing, but the studio camera was there and NBC was the network that carried the show, so I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Trying to keep my face as natural as possible, I veered over and stopped in front of her.

“So tell us, are you excited for the semi-finals? Do you think you can win the whole thing?”

“I guess I’m nervous and excited. As far as winning the whole thing? Who knows. I think I have a shot. If I didn’t, they wouldn’t have put me in the last fifteen, but there is really strong competition, so I’m not counting any chickens before they hatch.”

“Who do you think your biggest challenge will be?” she asked.

There was no way I was singling one competitor out of the lot as “the best,” which I knew was what she was asking.

“I think they’re all my biggest challenge. Everyone in the final fifteen fought hard to get here and has a shot to win the whole thing. These are some amazing artists. I think I need to get to the studio lot pretty soon. Thanks for the questions.”

I turned and walked away before she could ask me anything else. I saw several people around baggage claim looking at me, clearly trying to figure out who I was and why I rated three TV cameras. I’d argue I didn’t, since there were fifteen other people in this thing, but I didn’t get a say in it. I just gave the people who made eye contact with me a thin-lipped smile or a nod and kept walking.

I grabbed my bag and headed for the exit, trying to figure out if I needed a taxi or something when I spotted one of the producers I recognized from the show standing by the door.

She must have seen me at the same moment, because she waved me over.

“Charlie! Good to see you made it,” he said, vigorously shaking my hand. “We’ve got a car waiting for you downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

“Great. I’m ready now,” I said, holding up my bag and guitar as proof.

I followed her out to where an SUV was idling by the curb. Normally I didn’t think airports let you do that kind of thing, but I guess if you worked for Hollywood, you got to do whatever you wanted to do.

As we approached, the driver jumped out to grab my bag and guitar case, stowing them in the back while I climbed into the backseat. The studio cameraman from before was already sitting in there, which explained how he ended up at security waiting for me. They set up the plane tickets, after all, so they knew when I was getting in. The producer slid in next to me and the cameraman lifted his camera again, pointing it at us.

I should have seen that coming too, but I didn’t until right that moment.

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions so the editors have some additional stuff to work with for tomorrow night’s show, and next week’s of course, if you make it through.”

“Sure,” I said.

When I’d done this the first time, I’d sworn I wouldn’t ever get used to it, but a few times through, I realized that wasn’t true. I was used to it enough, in fact, that I correctly guessed her first question.

“I know there’s been interest in your family background and the tragic events there. Do you feel comfortable elaborating on that at all?” she asked.

Called it.

“No. I think we’ve talked enough about that. I don’t mind talking about my life, but I don’t want to live in the past, and especially not at my worst moment.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised.

I can imagine, doing interviews for musicians desperate for camera time and stardom, she didn’t get told no a lot when she asked questions.

“Sorry,” I said, hoping my move didn’t end up backfiring on me.

“No. Of course. It’s fine. Well, let’s talk about something more positive then—that amazing event organized by your hometown. It looked incredibly successful! And you even brought your friend and fellow competitor Cole to perform. What was it like, having that kind of support, and how did having one of your former competitors there come about?”

“It was great. Wellsville is an amazing town and they’ve been amazingly supportive, from Mayor Mullins to the Principal, to Dr. Wallace and the school district as a whole, who worked it out so I could finish my semester a week early and come out and compete. And Cole’s become a good friend through the competition so when the mayor suggested the event, I insisted Cole be part of it too. And I’m glad I did. The crowd absolutely loved him. I think next time, they might just invite him and leave me on the bench,” I said, laughing.

I didn’t know if they’d use any of this, but after talking to Dr. Wallace on Friday, it occurred to me how much these people could still affect my life, and how far giving them good publicity would go for me the next time I needed some special dispensation. As for Cole, I was sick of the show shitting on him, and wanted it to be a strong enough statement that they couldn’t twist it into something else.

The producer smiled. “It certainly seems like you two have bonded. And no professional jealousy or competition brewing there?”

I huffed a laugh. “None at all. Like I told that reporter at the airport, everyone in the top fifteen has serious talent. I’m just focused on doing my best, not worrying about what anyone else is up to.”

“Speaking of your best, you must feel you’ve got a good shot at winning the whole thing if you’ve made it this far against tough competition. What do you think your chances are?”

“I feel good about where I’m at,” I said carefully. “The finals are going to be incredibly challenging, but I’m going to leave everything on that stage. At the end of the day, the only thing I can control is my own performance, so I plan to go out there, have fun, and hope the audience connects with what I do. Whatever happens beyond that is out of my hands. I’m proud to have made it this far either way.”

She continued to ask questions the rest of the ride, some of which were straightforward that I tried to answer to the best of my ability, and some of which were clear attempts to stir up drama. Those I either went with the ‘aww shucks’ answer or told her to move on. By the time we arrived at the studio lot, she’d given up asking questions and just stared out the window, frustrated.

Walking back into the theater in the middle of the day, with all the house lights on and none of the production lighting and fanfare, was a surreal experience after all the performances. It felt like a million years ago since thirty of us had sat in these same seats, listening to the producer explain the prelims. Now we were back again, in the same seats, but with a lot fewer of us. It took about twenty more minutes until the last of the remaining contestants showed up.

They must have had him in some green room, just waiting, because less than thirty seconds after Dillon, the last one to show up, came shuffling in, Phoenix West, the executive producer who’d welcomed us that first day, was back up on stage, clapping his hands.

“Welcome back,” he said enthusiastically, his grin showing a perfect set of overly white teeth. “I want to congratulate all of you again for making it to the semi-finals. I know the prelims were tough, but you guys did an outstanding job, each and every one of you.”

He paused, I guess expecting some kind of reaction. Instead, we all just kind of stared at him. I know I was too nervous to be overly excited.

“Now,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him. “The format is going to be straight competition from here on out—no more challenges or gimmicks. Just your pure talent against the others. The semi-finals will take place here on this stage tomorrow night. That means you have limited time to prepare. We have our house band here, and you’ll each get time to rehearse with them on stage, get comfortable with the lights and sound. Because you have to share the band, slots are assigned. Seven of you will rehearse tonight for an hour each. The other eight will get their hour tomorrow before the show. I know, not ideal, but we’re on a tight schedule. After we wrap up here, go see Tina or Max by the doors. They have your rehearsal schedule.”

A few contestants murmured to each other, probably worrying about the limited practice time, but Phoenix held up his hand for quiet.

“I know it’s not as much time as you’d like, but this is a competition, and no one said it would be easy. That being said, you can perform whatever song you want within your style, as long as it’s one we can clear the rights for. Song choice, arrangements—that’s all up to you. That should allow you to pick a song you’re familiar with, which will make it easier on you.”

More murmuring, but less anxious this time. It wasn’t as simple as he made it out to be, though.

“For tomorrow night,” he said as everyone started calming down, “all fifteen of you will perform. The judging will happen immediately after, with the judges offering comments on each performance. The public has two full days to vote before we announce the results here on Thursday. Seven acts will be going home, leaving our final seven to compete on Christmas night. That night, the voting is live, done by the studio audience, and the winner is selected and announced at the end of the show.”

Everyone started talking again. Even though it was spread over two weeks, it still felt like everything was happening so fast now compared to the drawn-out challenges of the preliminaries.

“That’s about it. See Tina or Max for your rehearsal slot and the call sheet for when you need to be here tomorrow night to perform. And good luck tomorrow!”

After a round of applause for him as he waved and walked off stage, everyone began standing up and shuffling toward the doors. I was already trying to think through my strategy as I followed along. Song choice was the easy part; I knew what song I was going to do, and it didn’t need to be cleared for copyright. The band hadn’t heard it before, but the backing parts weren’t that difficult, and if these guys were anything like the backing bands before, I’d be fine. True, I’d rather have Lyla and Seth behind me, but I’d make do.

The bigger issue was, other than my hour rehearsal slot, there wasn’t really anywhere to practice. Instead of a dedicated house like we had during the prelims, they’d put us up in normal hotels, which I’m sure wouldn’t like me just practicing my guitar the whole time.

“Nelson,” Tina said more at the clipboard than to me when I got up to her. “You are... uh, slot number seven. Ten-thirty tomorrow morning.”

“Is there anywhere I can practice on the lot before my rehearsal slot?” I asked. “Some kind of empty sound stage or something?”

Tina shook her head, not even looking up from her paperwork. “No. No practice spaces available. In fact, you guys aren’t cleared for the lot beyond here, so you’ll have to head to your hotel, or wherever you want to go, until your scheduled time tomorrow.”

I’d figured that would be the answer. It was worth a shot asking, even if it was a little disappointing.

“Okay,” she said in a louder voice when everyone had their time slot. “There’s a van that will take you back to the hotel. It leaves in twenty minutes. Other than that, we’ll see those of you on tomorrow’s schedule tomorrow.”