From the Top - Chapter 26

I sat in the living room of the competition house, plucking away on the banjo that had been loaned to me to practice with. The fast-paced melody of her song flew from my fingertips as I tried desperately to get the tricky fingerpicking down.

I’d spent the entire afternoon working with JoDee and felt like I’d learned more in an hour than I had in years of practicing on my own. She was a wealth of information, so much so that it felt like my head was going to explode when we finished, trying to work out everything I’d learned. As soon as I got to the house, I continued practicing, determined to get this just right. So much so, that my fingers were starting to ache and blister from the nonstop practicing on the hard strings.

From the open window, I could hear whoops and laughter coming from some of the other contestants outside by the pool. We’d all gotten back around the same time, but they’d decided to use this time for fun and relaxation. Again, I felt that their priorities were really messed up. Although, maybe it was just that they didn’t need this as badly as I did.

Thankfully, I could hear Vince and Candi, which meant I wouldn’t have to deal with their bullshit and could really focus.

Or, at least, that had been my hope.

“Yeah, I’ve been fighting for years,” the male voice boasted. “Nothing serious, but I’ve done a few unofficial MMA competitions in Maryland, and even a few up in New York, and I’ve done really well. If this doesn’t work out, I’ve been talking to some guys about switching and taking my fighting semi-pro.”

I leaned forward to see who was talking and saw a tattoo-covered guy I think was called Rex. I was pretty sure he did mostly rock, although I’d only heard that in passing and didn’t actually know what his sound was.

I did recognize the type, however, and rolled my eyes. From the look on the face of the girl he was talking to, he was one hundred percent the one who brought up the topic in the first place. She definitely didn’t ask if he was a fighter, let alone about his hopes of turning pro. He also definitely didn’t notice her expression as he kept going.

“The main thing is having a solid punch, right? I mean, a lot of guys talk about the ground game, but when it comes down to it, if you aren’t able to get in the goods when you have an opening, they aren’t going down. Like me, I have this wicked right hook. My last few fights, I ended almost as soon as they started, laying the guys out with one punch. Bap,” he said, throwing an incredibly wild swing that caused the girl to step back suddenly to avoid getting an elbow to the face.

“Oh, wow, that’s … something,” she said.

“I know, right?” he said. “It’s true it’s not just punches, though; you do have to control your opponent. Like, you have to know how to wrap them up, get a good lock in. Here, act like you’re throwing a punch at me.”

“I don’t …” she said, taking a hesitant step back.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder, pulling her toward him. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Just throw a little punch. This’ll be worth it, I promise.”

She looked around like she was looking for a way out but didn’t see one, so she lifted her arms up in the kind of fighting stance you’d see in cartoons and threw a weak jab at him. To Rex’s credit, he had some speed, catching her arm and wrapping his around it as he moved behind her, until her shoulder was pressed into the crook of his elbow and his hand was on the back of her head. It was a reasonable hold, except he was way too high up on the arm, so if she knew at all what she was doing, she could pull out of it easily.

Worse, he pressed in like he was really pinning a guy who was fighting back against it, wrenching her shoulder way back, further than it should have gone.

“Ow,” she yelped as he pressed.

“Hey, ease up,” I said, setting the banjo aside and standing up. “You’re going to pop her shoulder out of its socket if you keep wrenching it back like that.”

Rex let go and wheeled around to face me, an indignant look on his face, “Who asked you, kid? You think you can do better?”

As soon as he let go, the girl stepped back, rubbing her shoulder.

I held up my hands, “No, I was just saying the whole point of what you were doing is to take the shoulder out of its socket, and that’s what was going to happen if you didn’t stop.”

“I know that, and I wasn’t hurting her. If I wanted to hurt her, I would have. But hey, if you think you know how things are supposed to be done, maybe you should show me what you’ve got, tough guy?”

“I’m not interested, man. I was just pointing out that you were hurting her,” I said, gesturing to the girl who was now rotating her shoulder gingerly.

“Who cares,” he said, waving his hand, essentially waving off the thought of her. “You’ve got a thing for telling people what’s what, like you know anything. So if you’re going to run your mouth, you better be ready to put up.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” one of the other girls in the room said.

“Let’s make this interesting. Fifty bucks on Rex taking him down.”

“You want to put up with that? Think you’re so smart, then put some money where your mouth is.”

I held up a hand, “I don’t want your money.”

“Then pick something, kid. You have the big mouth; do you have any balls to go with it?” Rex asked challengingly.

I considered him for a moment. I really just wanted to get back to practicing, getting ready for tomorrow’s contest. I also knew who Rex was. He was Aaron, Harry, and really every other blowhard I’ve had to deal with for the last several years. What I really didn’t want to do was end up in a full-out fight with this guy.

“Fine. How about this? I’ll let you take a swing at me, just like you had her swing at you, but you can put as much on it as you want. If you want to try and take my head off, go ahead. If I can lock you up, so that you can’t do anything, but don’t permanently hurt you, you have to stop calling me ‘kid,’” I said, and then realized there was something better than that. “And you have to make sure everyone else stops calling me ‘kid,’ too.”

Rex threw his head back and laughed derisively, “If you want to get hit, I’m more than happy to oblige. And when I knock the shit out of you, you have to call me ‘boss’ and open every door for me for the rest of the time we’re here. I don’t want my hand touching another handle, got it?”

He looked pretty proud of himself for coming up with that. It would be humiliating for me and would feed his ego, which is exactly what he wanted.

I really didn’t want to fight Rex, but his attitude was pushing me over the edge. Still, I knew Chef would be disappointed if I actually did damage to the guy over something so stupid. Hell, he’d been pissed the time I hurt Aaron, and he’d been actually trying to hurt me.

“Fine,” I said.

We’d gathered a crowd, including a bunch of people who’d been out by the pool. They started moving furniture, I guess thinking we were about to throw down. I understood the enthusiasm, but it wasn’t going to go that far.

I stepped into the open space, followed by Rex, and the rest of the contestants created a circle around us. Every day, this place felt more like high school. It was clear most of them thought Rex was going to take this. I understood. Rex was in good shape, really good shape, and I tended to wear T-shirts and somewhat loose jeans for comfort. All the training with Chef had left me in good shape, but I wasn’t a muscle-bound hulk, so it wasn’t something anyone could normally see.

“Just swing at me however you want. One shot only. If it connects, you win. If I put you down, we’re done here,” I said evenly.

Rex smirked with overconfidence, “You sure you want to do this? Last chance to back out before I put you on the floor.”

I didn’t say anything in response; just put my weight forward, ready to move. I assumed he was going to telegraph his punch, but I did my best not to act on that assumption. Maybe he was right and he’d done some fighting and knew what he was doing. The last thing I wanted was to be just as overconfident and underestimate him.

My assumption wasn’t wrong. He had a massive windup, telegraphing the wide swing of his right fist as he swung for the fences. He was absolutely convinced he was going to connect, the smug expression never leaving his face. The expression switched as I moved. I’d picked the moment, making sure he was fully committed to the swing before I slipped past it, wrapping my arm around his like he’d done to the girl’s. But I didn’t just wrap him up and get behind him. I moved opposite his punch, letting his momentum do the work for me, giving me all of the leverage as his force went absolutely the wrong way to deal with the cross pressure on his shoulder socket.

As I felt our contact tightening and his arm start to wrench back, I kicked my foot into his rear knee, assuring he collapsed straight forward, face down, rather than backward, where he could wiggle out of it. I did him the favor of not pressing my hand, which was firmly locked onto the back of his neck, forward hard, which would have caused his face to smash into the hardwood. Instead, I pressed with my knee, causing his stomach and pelvis to hit first. It would still hurt, but not that badly and it wouldn’t cause any permanent damage.

He let out a ‘woof’ sound as he hit the floor. I gave a little push with the hand against his head, letting his arm pull just a little more, pressing against the joint like he did to the girl, and then let go, standing up and backing away, just in case he decided the embarrassment was enough to try and turn this into a fight for real.

“What … how …” Rex stammered as he tried to get his breath back, rolling up on his side and rubbing his shoulder.

“I said one shot. We’re done here, right?” I asked evenly.

He hopped up, still rubbing his shoulder, and said, “You got lucky, you little …”

“Right?” I said, letting my voice drop to a more serious level and taking a hard step toward him, causing him to flinch back.

“Yeah, whatever, we’re done,” he said sullenly, recovering.

Everyone started dispersing, but I stayed where I was until he started walking off. Some of the others started teasing him, and he brushed it off like he was in on the joke, even though it was obvious to everyone he wasn’t. There was a fifty-fifty chance whether he was going to try and save face and come at me later, but I’d keep an eye on him. Maybe he’d get eliminated tomorrow and I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I went back to my chair and picked the banjo back up.

I swear to God, I was tired of this bullshit.

***

Finally, it was time for the first performance. I’d gotten to JoDee’s studio by seven-thirty in the morning to get the second half of my practice in. She’d been surprised when I’d asked how early I could come by the next morning, but she’d okayed it and had the housekeeper let me in. JoDee herself didn’t appear until nine, but she seemed to like my drive, and we got a lot of work done before I had to get back to the cast house and get into hair and makeup for the first performance.

I’d felt fine when I’d left JoDee’s, but now that I was standing in the wings of the stage they’d built inside the soundstage and heard the noise of five hundred people in the audience talking, I started to get nervous again. I was far from the worst. One guy had run out to go throw up as Dexter walked up on stage. This was a huge night for all of us, and five of us were going to have the dream stop dead tonight, right as it got started.

As Dexter got on stage, the talking died down, and people started clapping and cheering. It took Dexter several minutes to get the crowd calmed down enough to start.

“Hello, lovely people!” he said when they’d settled down enough for him to be heard. “Welcome to the first round of performances on ‘The Stage!’”

Dexter chuckled and held up his hands as the crowd roared, “Now, I know you’re all very excited, but let’s save some of that energy for later, shall we?”

The audience laughed.

“Now, here’s how this is going to work. When this episode airs, we’ll be splitting it up over four nights, with the final night for us judges to give our thoughts and reveal who stays and who goes.”

More cheers erupted. Dexter motioned for them to settle down again.

“But since we’re recording everything for this round tonight, it’s going to be a long one, probably five to six hours in total. There’ll be breaks and refreshments, but I need you lot to really keep the energy up, yeah?”

The audience whooped in agreement.

“All right, let’s get this party started then!” Dexter pumped a fist, the lights flashed, and upbeat music poured from the speakers as he exited the stage.

Cameras on cranes swept across the cheering audience as spotlights swept back and forth across the stage, the empty judges’ table, and the audience themselves. After a minute, the light show calmed down, and Dexter reemerged, the cheering swelling once more before quieting down.

“Welcome,” he said, smiling broadly and clapping his hands together. “We have an exciting few nights of music planned for you as we start to look for our next rising star. Over the next three nights, our contestants will each perform a cover of a song in a genre randomly assigned to them. They’ve been working with mentors to prepare for this performance, and tonight, you’ll get to see the results!”

More enthusiastic claps and whistles erupted from the crowd. Dexter held up a hand.

“Over the next three nights, we’ll air the performances of ten contestants each night. Then, on Friday, my fellow judges and I will gather to discuss and rank them on their efforts and make the difficult decision of who will continue on in the competition and whose journey ends here.”

He raised his hand again to calm the crowd.

“Now, let’s welcome my fellow judges. First, the Queen of Country herself, Dakota Rayne!”

The crowd erupted as Dakota strode out, waving and blowing kisses. She wore a sparkling dress and enough jewelry to finance a small nation. Her platinum blonde hair was in an elaborate updo, and her makeup was heavy, but even under all that, you could still see she was gorgeous.

She joined Dexter center stage and gave him a hug and a kiss on each cheek, waving to the audience. Dexter motioned her to the first judge’s seat, and she sat, blowing more kisses and waving to the adoring fans.

“Our next judge needs no introduction, having discovered and developed some of the biggest names in music over the last four decades. Let’s hear it for the one and only Hal Steiner!”

The cheering amped up as Hal came out, giving a single wave. Where Dakota had glamor, Hal had an understated look. Dark slacks, a blue button-down shirt that was open at the collar, and a black sports coat. His thinning salt-and-pepper hair still had hints of the jet black it had once been.

He shook Dexter’s hand and gave a polite nod to Dakota before taking his seat.

“And last, but certainly not least, is a woman with seven number-one hits last year alone and who was rated the country’s most influential producer by Rock Now Magazine. Please welcome the unstoppable Alexis Durant!”

More applause rang out as a petite brunette in a red power suit and stiletto heels clip-clopped her way across the stage, beaming and waving enthusiastically. She gave Dexter an enthusiastic hug before joining the other judges.

“Ohh, and of course your fourth judge of this evening is a man whose creative genius has brought him fifteen number one singles and eight multi-platinum albums. Let’s hear it for the legendary Dexter Heart!”

Dexter threw his arms up and spun in a circle, basking in the adoration, before turning more serious. “Now, it’s time to see who really belongs on … ‘The Stage!’”

The crowd erupted as he left the stage to join the other judges on their raised platform.

Contestants started going out and performing. Each performance started with a little video package about that performer on the giant screen behind them, letting the audience get to know them, and then an edited bit showing their preparation for this performance. The actual performances themselves were an entire stage show, with lights, a backing band, and cameramen running across the stage, recording everything. From the wings, it was wild to watch, especially since I hadn’t really bonded with any of them, so I didn’t have a dog in the fight.

Finally, Cole was up. He gave me a nod as he walked past toward the stage, and I could see how nervous he was. He was older than me, but he had a lot less stage time than I did, and I think this might be the biggest audience he’d ever played for.

Cole’s mentor had been R&B singer Darius Ellings. As he began to play a slow, stripped-down version of one of Darius’s hits, I could hear the slight tremor in his voice.

It wasn’t a terrible take on the song, but he’d taken too much R&B out and put too much country ballad into it. Between Cole’s shaky vocals and the way he’d leached the funk and soul from the original, it didn’t have the impact it could have.

The audience clapped politely when he finished, but the reception felt lukewarm compared to most other acts that had already performed.

“That was lovely,” Dakota said as the judges gave their critiques. “But I think you maybe played it too safe. We wanted to really see what you could do in another genre; if you could keep true to yourself while showing us something different … challenging. I think, instead, you showed us only you, taking out the core of R&B.”

“I have to agree. While you have strong vocals, instead of giving us Darius’s song with your essence, you gave us your song with only Darius’s words. You lost the heart of it.”

Cole thanked them, but I could see he was crushed as he walked off stage. I patted his shoulder as he went by, but he wasn’t in a mood to talk or be cheered up.

Next, it was Vince’s turn. I would have loved to see him crash and burn, especially going after Cole, considering the shit he gave Cole the day we got here.

Unfortunately, he absolutely killed it. He’d sung for some of the guys at the house, and he had this classic R&B voice, which was already surprising considering how he looked, you’d have expected country or some kind of rock. Tonight, he had just a single guitar, with no backing music. His gravelly voice infused the folk song from his mentor, River Mitchell, with ache and sorrow, but he added in these slowed-down runs that had the heart of folk, but the sound of R&B. I’d never heard anything like it, but it was actually heartbreaking to hear.

As much as I wanted to hate it, Vince was incredible. His raw, soulful performance sent shivers down my spine. The audience sat silent, hanging onto each note. When he finally hit the last mournful note, the crowd leaped to their feet, the cheers deafening even backstage.

The judges were equally effusive, Hal even giving Vince a standing ovation.

“Electrifying … mesmerizing … simply breathtaking,” they raved.

As Vince swaggered off stage, he gave me a smug grin, “Follow that, jackoff.”

How someone with so much talent could be such an asshole, I had no idea.

Dexter went back out on stage and gave the episode wrap-up, bringing all of the performers so far back on stage with him. And then, the house lights came on and they let everyone get up and stretch for ten minutes before they would begin recording for day two.

Ten minutes later, Dexter was back up on stage introducing the next group of competitors in a similar fashion as he had done for the first. I watched from the wings as Candi, the drunk girl from the first night, was featured. They highlighted that night a lot in the video package, and I winced when I saw a large chunk of my moment with her had made it into the video.

Candi’s mentor had been jazz singer Billie Wright. As the music started, Candi launched into a sultry, breathy rendition of one of Billie’s hits. Her vocals weren’t bad, but it was clear she didn’t grasp the subtle complexities of jazz. Her over-the-top performance felt messy and disjointed compared to Billie’s original.

The judges didn’t hold back in their critiques.

“Darling, you’ve got pipes, but this genre just wasn’t the right fit,” Dakota said bluntly. “You lost the plot halfway through.”

Candi plastered on a smile, but I could tell their words stung. She was crying as soon as she was offstage, her makeup smearing down her cheeks.

More performers cycled through over the next few hours. None were as good as Vince, who was clearly the man to beat in the contest, but also, not a lot were worse than Candi. It felt like this group ended up kind of smashed between the two extremes. They weren’t all bad, of course; some wowed the judges and the audience, while others fell flat, but none got the kind of reaction that either Candi or Vince had.

And then, it was time for another break before Dexter was back on stage, giving the intro for my episode. I felt my mouth go a little dry, as the first couple performers went up and my time got close, just like it did every time before I had to go on stage. Rex, the idiot from the night before, went up and did okay, and then it was my turn.

My video package began playing on the giant screen. They’d sent someone to Wellsville to interview people, and I recognized places around town: the park, the school, Mrs. Phillips’ house, as a bunch of people spoke. Hearing my friends praise me and talk about my talent was a bit embarrassing. The sheriff spoke kindly about me and my struggles but never mentioned the fact that I’d dated his daughter.

And then they got to my parents’ deaths. They dodged around the controversy afterward and just covered it as a tragic situation, the result of alcoholism and poverty in rural America. I shifted uncomfortably, disliking having my life condensed into a neatly edited narrative.

Then it switched to video of me and JoDee working together. They’d left out her mentioning that her husband had seen me perform in New York or that she’d listened to my music before meeting me, but JoDee had some incredibly nice things to say about me. It was really flattering.

The video finished and the lights went down so the producers could hustle me out and put me on my spot. I gripped the banjo and settled myself, doing a very short accounting of my feelings and my place in the universe, the way Chef had taught me. Kind of a mini-meditation session.

The lights came up, and I lifted my head, looking at the judges and the dark beyond them, blinded by the spotlights pointed down at me.

Gripping the neck of the banjo, I launched into the rapid-fire intro to “Crow’s Feet and Moonshine.” My fingers flew across the strings, picking out the driving bluegrass melody.

JoDee had talked a lot about the lyrics, how to sing them, since her sound was very different from mine. We decided that I should go with it pitched down, putting some grit in my voice, keeping the speed, but making the upbeat tune into something dark and dangerous sounding. My voice rasped out the tale of backwoods moonshiners dodging revenue agents. I could feel the energy of the audience as I sang, with hundreds of eyes locked on me.

“Crow’s feet and moonshine, running from the law, through mountain pass and back road, delivering the fire that makes a man stand tall,” I sang as I hit the chorus. “Crow’s feet and moonshine, ain’t no noose gonna stop me when I’ve heard my people’s call.”

I was really getting into it, the production band backing me up, keeping pace with the lightning-fast rhythm. And then I hit the last verse and got to the instrumental section that I’d particularly loved about this song when JoDee showed it to me.

I steadily built the intensity, the music rising to a frenzied crescendo before I wrenched it into the final run. My pick hand was a blur as I ripped through the last bars. I hit the last note and held it, letting the strings hum.

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause.

“Charlie, that was absolutely spectacular!” Dexter said, beaming. “I’ve never heard anything like it. You took JoDee’s song and made it your own, just brilliant!”

Dakota nodded enthusiastically, “Sugar, you tore up that banjo! And your vocals … just goosebumps. You’ve got so much talent.”

“It takes remarkable musicianship to play with that speed and precision,” Hal said approvingly. “And you infused the music with such raw passion. Astounding work, young man.”

Their lavish praise left me tongue-tied. “Thank you. JoDee was an incredible mentor. She really pushed me to my limits on this song. I’m grateful for the opportunity to pay tribute to her music.”

Dexter laughed and said, “Oh, he’s modest too! What a talent. All right, Charlie, we’ll let you get offstage before your head gets too big.”

I gave a wave and made my way backstage.

Backstage, Cole slapped me on the back and said, “Dude! That was insane! When you hit that banjo solo, I thought the roof was gonna blow off.”

We headed back to the green room, where the other contestants were gathered, watching the remaining performances on a monitor. A few people called out congratulations as I entered. I nodded in thanks, suddenly feeling self-conscious from all the attention.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the refreshment table and sank onto the couch next to Cole. Onscreen, Marissa was belting out a soulful, bluesy rendition of a jazz standard. Her voice soared and swooped with an impressive range.

Finally, all the performances were finished. Dexter did his usual wrap-up spiel, the crowd cheered, and the cameras stopped rolling. The production crew immediately launched into motion, resetting the stage for the judging episode.

After what seemed like an endless wait, we were finally called back to the stage. We stood in a line across the front of the stage, facing the judges.

Dexter stood, a wide smile on his face. “What an incredible three nights of performances! Truly spectacular talent on display! Now comes the difficult part. Having to decide who will continue on in the competition, and who we must sadly eliminate.”

Muted groans of disappointment sounded from the audience. Dexter held up a hand.

“I know, I know. We all wish we could keep everyone! But the rules are the rules,” he sighed theatrically. “So, without further ado, here are the top five standout performances of the round!”

A hush fell over the studio as Dexter opened the envelope in his hand with exaggerated slowness. “In fifth place … Steven!”

I didn’t really know him, but he’d covered a country song as part of the first group and had done a really solid job. I couldn’t fault them for picking him.

“Fourth place goes to … Jonna!”

A pretty brunette with a nose ring stepped forward, blowing kisses to the screaming crowd. I clapped along politely, glancing over at Cole. His face was impossible to read.

“In third … Marissa!”

Marissa squealed, jumping up and down as she rushed forward to stand next to Jonna. It was a fair call. She’d been very good.

“Second place … Charlie!”

I’d known I’d killed it and knew I was going to be in the top five, but had held out a secret hope that I’d be first. Still, second out of thirty was a great result. I waved and went to stand next to Marissa.

“And finally, in first place for the round … Vince!”

I grimaced as Vince swaggered up to join the others, winking smugly at Cole as he passed. It boiled my blood that he was first, since his ego was already out of control, but I had to admit he’d been amazing.

“Excellent job to our top five!” Dexter said. “Now for the hard part. Five of you will not continue on to the next round. We are going to call out our bottom ten.”

Dexter looked down at his card somberly. “The following contestants, please step forward: Cole, Candi, Larry, Alex, Gianna, Sean, Jake, Amanda, Dillon, and Cadence.”

My heart sank as Cole’s name was called. He kept his composure, but I could see the pain in his eyes as he joined the others. Candi was already crying, the mascara that hair and makeup had fixed since she got off stage running down her cheeks again.

“I’m sorry, but you ten received the lowest scores from the judges,” Dexter said gently. “However, this is not the end. You will each be paired up, and the judges will decide which of you is going home.”

“Candi and Larry, please come forward,” Dexter instructed.

They stood next to each other, Candi sniffling.

“Both of you struggled to capture the essence of your assigned genres. However, one of you connected more emotionally despite technical flaws,” Dakota said and then paused, drawing out the dramatic tension, “Candi, you’re going home. Larry, you get another chance.”

Candi burst into tears and ran off the stage.

“Next, Alex and Gianna,” Dexter said.

The two girls grasped hands supportively as they took their places.

Hal adjusted his glasses. “You both have musical talent, and we know this wasn’t an easy challenge. Still, it is a competition, and one of you, unfortunately, did not measure up.”

Alex’s face fell. She knew what was coming.

“Alex, I’m afraid your time on the show ends here. Gianna, congratulations, you’re through to the next round.”

Alex hugged Gianna tightly, wiping away tears as she made her exit.

The pattern continued, each pair being judged and one contestant eliminated.

Finally, Dexter announced, “Cole and Jake.”

“Both of you really struggled with this challenge, and had difficulty presenting your given genre,” Dexter continued. “That being said, we believe Cole had the better performance of the two of you, and still has a chance in the competition. I’m sorry, Jake, but your journey ends here.”

Cole let out a massive sigh of relief as Jake shook his hand and walked off.

“And that’s it for tonight,” Dexter said, facing the cameras as the studio music ramped back up, playing the show’s theme song. “For Dakota, Hal, Lexi, and the rest of the cast and crew here at “The Stage,” I’m Dexter Heart. We’ll see you next week for our next exciting challenge, and see who has the talent to stay in the competition, and who’s going home. Until then, keep your stage dreams alive, America.”