From the Top - Chapter 27

It was late when we got back to the cast house, and I was ready to just go crash, since the whole thing was going to start all over again the next morning with another challenge. However, a producer stopped me before I’d even gotten to the stairs, asking me to head out to the production guest house for my interview.

They’d slowly been calling in contestants over the last two days to do these interviews, which they said were for creating additional video packages for them to be able to play in between contestant performances. Mixed with footage from inside the cast house, it would be a way for viewers to connect with the contestants better. Or at least that was what they were saying.

I’d watched enough of the show before that I knew they dug into people’s lives, so I did know what I was getting into. I’d kind of hoped I could avoid this part and just compete, but I didn’t have much of a choice. If refusing meant they showed me less, then I wouldn’t get the exposure we were hoping for, and Warren, Lyla, and Seth were all counting on me.

So, tired as I was, I headed back to the production area to let them grill me on my past.

The producer led me into a small room and gestured toward a chair facing a camera on a tripod.

“Have a seat, Charlie. We’re just gonna do a quick little interview to help viewers get to know you better. Give them a peek into your background, what makes you tick.”

I sat down, trying not to seem as uncomfortable as I felt.

“No reason to be nervous. We’re just going to ask you a few questions to hopefully give the viewers a chance to connect with you on a personal level,” the producer gestured encouragingly. “So just answer as honestly as you can. Really open up.”

“Sure,” I said, not believing any of that.

These were the same people that threw unlimited booze at a bunch of twenty-year-olds, and they were making a TV show. They weren’t looking for reality, they were looking for entertainment.

“We’ll make the first one easy. What made you decide to audition for The Stage?”

“I’ve always loved performing and sharing my music. I thought this show would be a great chance to get my music out there and hopefully inspire people.”

Of course, that wasn’t true at all, but it sounded better than ‘I hope I’ll get enough name recognition that my old label can’t keep getting me blackballed by venues.’

“And who are some of your biggest musical influences?”

“Definitely classic rock artists like Brighton and Parker,” I said. “Also older country artists like Billy Rayburn and Jackson Ford. Their songwriting has always inspired me.”

“Great. Now let’s talk about your childhood. From what I understand, money was pretty tight for your family growing up. What was that like?”

“Yeah … I guess you could say money was tight. My dad was a musician too but never really broke big, so we spent my childhood going from tiny gig to tiny gig. Then a couple of years ago, my dad wasn’t around, so my mom settled us down in a small town north of Asheville where she found work. They weren’t bad jobs, but we were basically starting from nothing, so my mom worked two jobs to support us. There were months we really had to pinch pennies.”

“That must have been difficult as a child, having that kind of instability,” the producer said.

“Most of my life, it just seemed like how things were. And I spent a lot of time with other musicians playing in the clubs or whatever my dad could book. I got to learn from a lot of people and hear a lot of different styles of music. I basically grew up surrounded by musicians. I thought it was pretty exciting.”

“When you finally settled down, wasn’t that around the time your dad went to prison for aggravated homicide?”

I guess the softball questions were done. I would have preferred staying away from my dad’s past, but his conviction, and when the charges against him were thrown out, were all public records.

“Uh … yeah. He drank a lot, and he could be pretty belligerent. I guess he got into a fight in a bar, someone pulled a knife, and the other guy died. They threw the conviction out a few years later.”

“That was when it was discovered that your father’s prosecutor was sleeping with the judge who presided over the conviction.”

“I guess,” I said.

Wow, they really had done their homework.

“That must have been incredibly difficult, having your father convicted of murder. What was going through your head when you found out?”

“My mom kept me away from it mostly. She didn’t let us listen to the news and we didn’t go to the trial, so mostly it was just him being gone. My dad had a temper, especially when he drank, so him getting in a bar fight wasn’t a total shock. But hearing he’d killed someone …” I trailed off, staring down at my hands.

“It’s hard for a kid to process something like that?”

“For a long time, I just felt confused. And angry. I was mad he’d ruined our lives, especially after seeing how hard my mom had to work to get us back on our feet.”

“And were things difficult at home, with his drinking?”

“I mean, our home was a Winnebago, so that was hard all by itself. But yeah, growing up with a drunk kind of sucks. Sometimes, when he drank, he’d get mean. Yelling. Throwing things. I mostly tried to stay out of his way when he got like that.”

“Do you think growing up in that environment affected you?”

“Probably, but who knows. I mostly retreated into music, which got me here. So …” I said, ending with a shrug.

“And then your father returned. From what I understand, things got pretty heated between your parents after your dad got out of prison.”

“I guess you could say that,” I said, my voice completely flat.

“There were some domestic disputes reported at your house around that time, right before their deaths?”

“Sure.”

“And the night your parents died, there was a physical altercation between them that you witnessed, is that correct?”

My throat tightened. This is what I was worried about. I didn’t want to relive that night and all the terrible things that happened after it, let alone talk about it. I was also concerned about where they would go from there. Sure, a bad childhood could build sympathy, but hearing that I was charged with my father’s murder would almost certainly lose me any goodwill I might have built airing the rest of my dirty laundry.

“I’d rather not get into the details,” I said, trying to keep my face neutral.

“I understand this is difficult,” the interviewer said, his voice gentle. “But for the viewers, sharing your story can be incredibly meaningful. It helps them connect with what you went through.”

“With all due respect, I came here to play music, not dig up old trauma. There are parts of my life that I’m just not comfortable sharing.”

“You know, Charlie, being on a show like this means letting viewers into your world. The good, the bad, and even the painful. I think your story could really resonate with people. Isn’t that part of why you came here, to connect through your music?”

“Connecting through music doesn’t require me to recount specific details about my parents’ deaths on camera.”

When the interviewer opened his mouth to respond, I held up a hand. “I know you’re just doing your job, and I get that you’re looking for a compelling backstory. But I’d like to keep some parts of my life private. I hope you can understand that.”

There was a moment of silence as we just looked at each other. Finally, he just kind of shrugged.

“All right, Charlie. I respect you setting a boundary. We’ve got plenty to work with from the other questions.” He extended his hand, and I shook it. “I think that’s enough for tonight. The footage we have will make for a great intro package for you. We appreciate you taking the time to sit down with us.”

“No problem,” I said.

Of course, that was a lie. I was pissed they’d gotten into it, knowing they’d make me feel the way I was feeling.

I was drained by the time I made my way back to the contestant house. Most of the others were still up drinking and socializing, but I headed straight to my bedroom, wanting nothing more than to collapse into bed.

I slept horribly, tossing and turning for hours, trying to ignore the sounds downstairs and to stop thinking about my parents. When I finally fell asleep, I had horrible dreams involving that night. Over and over, I kept hearing my dad trying to break through the trailer door to get to my mom.

***

When I jerked awake, I still heard the pounding on the door.

“Charlie, it’s eight-thirty,” one of the producers yelled through the door. “We’re gathering for the next challenge. Please come down.”

“Uh … Yeah. Coming.”

I saw that Cole and Norman’s beds were both empty. This was karma, considering what I’d thought about the contestants who’d come late to the meeting two days ago when we learned about the first contest. Now, here I was, running late.

I hurried to throw on some jeans and a t-shirt, then rushed downstairs. Most of the other contestants were already gathered in the living room, looking about as lively as I felt. A few were sprawled on the couches nursing coffee, while others stood around bleary-eyed.

Amanda stumbled in a few minutes after me, still in her pajamas with serious bedhead. She headed straight for the largest mug of coffee she could find. I’d gone right to bed last night, but every other night Amanda had been off partying, so I had to assume last night was no different.

Once the stragglers had assembled, the producer who’d given us the first challenge cleared his throat. “Good morning, contestants! I hope you all got a good night’s rest because today is going to be a big day!”

A few half-hearted groans came from my fellow contestants.

“For your next challenge, you’ll be performing duets! We’ve paired each of you up with another contestant. As with the last challenge, you will have today and tomorrow until showtime to prepare. You can pick any song, any genre you want. We assume since neither performer has worked together before, this will be a cover, but the end choice is up to you. In the music industry, collaboration with other artists is a major factor in extending your brand to new audiences, so being able to work with others is a critical skill. We want you to show us how you can work with others. Also, as with the first challenge, we’re going to want you not only to work together and perform a song but we still want to see your personalities in the music you choose. That means finding a way to shine through and show us your personality, without overwhelming the personality of the person performing with you. Now, one group will have three singers, which is a challenge, I know, but also an excellent opportunity for you to excel. Tomorrow night, we will tape the performances again, although this time broken down into just two sections, one for the performances and one for the results show. The rest of the episodes that week will be focused on activities in the competition house, and some of the interviews we’ve been doing.”

Murmurs rippled through the contestants as friends shot each other hopeful glances. This was one of those times when it really mattered who you got paired with.

He began reading off the names, set by set. Cole went early, paired with Marissa, which was a lucky break. They were both country singers, so they should knock this out of the park.

There were only four of us left when they finally called my name.

“Charlie and Amanda,” he said, looking at his clipboard.

Amanda and I eyed each other. I don’t know how she felt about me, but I knew how I felt about her. She hadn’t taken this seriously at all and had been one of the people on the chopping block the night before. Worse, she’d been hanging out with Vince, which suggested she wasn’t the best judge of character.

“Okay, that’s it. Go ahead and break into groups with your partners and get started. Good luck, and I look forward to what you all have to show us.”

Everyone got up and found places to sit and start talking.

Amanda rolled her eyes, got up, and as she walked past me she said, “Come on.”

I resisted the urge to copy her eye roll and followed her outside. Honestly, if we could at least work together, I didn’t care how rude she was. I just wanted to do well on this challenge, and I was willing to take her attitude if it meant getting through to the next one.

She led us out to the side of the pool and dropped herself into a lounge chair. There wasn’t a chair near it, so I grabbed one of the regular chairs and dragged it over to sit next to her so we could talk.

“So,” she said as soon as I sat down. “Let’s go with Candy Girl by Toni Aranas. It’s upbeat, super fun, and it always gets people on their feet when I perform it. Trust me, we can’t lose.”

I tried not to visibly cringe. I was familiar with Candy Girl. It came out two years ago and had been a huge hit. Kids at school played it often. It wasn’t bad, honestly. It was just a little too bubblegum for my liking, but it had some interesting musical elements. It was also incredibly out of my wheelhouse.

She used a lot of sampling and distortion in her voice. A lot of people auto-tuned their vocals to be on pitch, but Aranas had used it to make her voice sound almost synthetic on purpose. I think that was kind of the point and it was even somewhat of a commentary on the way music had become so artificial, but most of the people who liked it never listened to the words and missed that part completely.

She also had an incredibly high register. I could bring that down, which would be fine for harmonies, but bouncing back and forth if we each did verses would be a bit of a wobble.

“That’s pretty far outside my style,” I said. “I was thinking we could pick something on the rock end of things. I’m fine with pop, and I know that’s what you normally sing; but there’s a lot of pop that’s still fast-paced, but with a harder edge to it. Something like that would probably work well as a middle ground between us.”

“No, that wouldn’t work. I’m known for doing my thing, and I have to … you know, be true to my audience or whatever.”

“Okay,” I said, trying not to get hostile or defensive. “But this is a duet. We can’t just do your style, or we’re going to lose because I’ll drop the ball on my end. I’m telling you, this isn’t the kind of music I sing, and I’ll pull us down.”

“Then you’ve got to figure out how to hold up your end. I know what I’m doing. If you don’t, that’s on you,” she said, settling back in her seat and not looking at me.

“You understand we both have to succeed to make this work?” I said, starting to lose my temper. “If I go down, you’re going down with me. I don’t care how good you think you’re going to do. I’m telling you this is the wrong song choice.”

“I’ve made my decision,” she said, waving a hand at me dismissively. “I’m not changing my style for anyone.”

“Then you’re an idiot. Do you really not get that this is going to send you home?”

Amanda’s head whipped around. “What did you say to me?”

“I said you’re an idiot, and you’re going to get us both sent home. If that’s how you want to play it, then I’ll just play something different, it’ll sound like crap, and we can both start packing now.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. Either we pick a song we can both play, or I tank the whole damn thing. It’s not like everyone won’t know how this went down. They’re recording us,” I said, pointing to the camera crew a few feet away. “So either figure out how to work with me and find a middle ground, or start packing.”

Amanda leapt to her feet. For a moment, she just stood there, trembling, hands clenched into fists.

“You are unbelievable,” she spat.

Had no one ever stood up to this girl before?

“And you’re a spoiled brat. Now, how about a House of Grace song? They’re pop but not so far out of my range that it’s undoable. They’re popular, and they sound great.”

I didn’t mention that I knew the band or how familiar I was with their songs. It wasn’t why I chose them, but already knowing their songs would make my life easier. It really was something within her range. Based on the song Amanda did the other night, her range was pretty close to Linda ‘s, and the speed and the feel of it was something I felt comfortable with, it wasn’t completely synthetic like Arana’s stuff.

“I don’t want to do that,” she said.

“Fine, then pick something else, but pick something at least a little in my range, so we can have a chance. I don’t care what, as long as we both agree on it.”

“What if I won’t agree to anything you choose?”

“Then we’re back to packing our bags.”

Amanda let out a dramatic sigh. “Ugh, fine. We can pick something else.”

“Do you have any suggestions?” I said, trying not to let my relief show.

“I mean, no… not really.”

“Okay, then will you settle for House of Grace? Or would you prefer something else?”

I was basically talking to her like I would a child at this point, but since she was acting like a child, it seemed appropriate.

“Fine, I guess that could work.”

“Fine, so which song and how do we want to split it up?”

Although she sulked through most of it, we spent the next hour going through their songs, some of which I had to play on my phone so she knew which ones I was talking about, finally settling on Daydream Delinquents. It wasn’t my favorite of their songs, but since it was the poppiest of their stuff, it made sense that’s the one Amanda would go for. I’d played it a couple of times before, knew it, and it was in my wheelhouse, so I didn’t put up a fight.

We managed to split up the verses and discuss how we wanted to handle the choruses a little before Vince and one of the other partiers, who’d managed to hang on, came out.

“That’s enough for now. We can practice tomorrow,” she said, hopping up.

“We only have this afternoon and tomorrow morning to practice,” I said. “This is our first time doing this together, and harmonies are tough to do on the fly and make them sound good. We should practice as much as we can.”

“Hey, I let you pick the song you wanted,” she said. “And we figured the breakdown out. That’s good for today. I’m going to relax some and maybe … maybe, if I’m feeling up to it, we can do something later. Okay?”

She was unbelievable but forcing her to practice wasn’t going to do us any good. I watched her go over and join Vince and felt a little despondent.

This was going to end up costing me the shot at winning this thing. I just knew it.