Catch My Breath (2 page)

The scary guy was Sasha. Danny had been right. He was currently folding his tall, lanky frame into the leather desk chair across from them. Danny sat and the other three awkwardly followed suit. He was glad to see that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

“I’ll be honest with you guys. You’re the best that I saw today.” Sasha drummed on his desk. “That doesn’t mean I think you have what it takes. I’m honestly not sure yet.”

Danny went in seconds from elation to worry.

“Why’d you bring us back here then?” Southern Reece asked. Danny wanted to kick him.

Sasha smiled though. “You don’t hold back much, do you? I brought you back here because I want to see more from you four. I want to hear how you sound together, what you’ll look like after a stylist gets a hold of you. I think you have potential.”

Potential is good, isn’t it? Wait….

“Did you say together?” Danny didn't understand.

Sasha nodded. “We have elements, but nobody on their own had what I needed. I decided we’re going to try you out as a vocal group.”

“A vocal group?” Reece asked slowly. Danny could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Yes.” Sasha smiled. “Otherwise known as a boy band.”

The four guys exchanged panicked looks. A boy band? Seriously? A
boy band
? They’d have to prance around in matching outfits and….

You know what? I’ll still do it. Happily.

Danny wasn’t going to screw with his chance just because the game suddenly had a different name than he’d originally imagined.

“Are you guys still interested?”

Apparently, the other three felt the same way as Danny because without hesitation, Sasha got four very enthusiastic nods.

Sasha held up his hand. “Good. But I think something is missing. And it wasn’t out there today.”

“Something?” Tate asked.

Sasha pursed his lips. “Someone.” He pointed at Tate. “Your voice is lovely but not unique. People will instinctively like you though.” Webber. “You have that sexy R&B quality, but you’re quiet. Perhaps too quiet.” Reece. “You’re a little rough around the edges, but the girls will love your accent. We need to work on the wardrobe.” Danny smirked at that one. He’d been right. And then Sasha pointed at him. “You’ve got personality. We all saw it today.” He smiled a little. “Your voice will be fantastic support.” Sasha sighed. “But we need that….”

“Star?” Reece asked.

“No. Just someone to finish it….” He drummed on his desk again. “I’ll know when I see him. I’m going to have to do this again.”

“What about us?” It was the first time Webber had spoken. His voice matched him, a bit shy but nice. Mellow.

“I need you to give your contact info to Jessica. We’ll be in touch. I’m going to want to run a few rehearsals, see if we can’t make you four into a cohesive group while I look for a fifth.”

Danny hated the uncertainty. Hated the fact that Sasha could easily find two or three other guys better than him while he was out looking for their fifth member. He nodded anyway. Any chance at all was better than being one of those guys on their way home. He was still there. At least for the moment.

“J
ESUS
, it’s hot. Why doesn’t your AC ever work when it’s really gross out?” Elliot Price’s best friend Sara turned up the fan and lifted her back from the sticky seat.

“’Cause this is a beater?” Elliot shrugged. At least they were almost there. “Isn’t everyone supposed to have a beater in high school?”

“Yeah, but we
graduated
three weeks ago. Time for something better.”

Elliot grinned into the setting sun. “I’ll let my mom know. You ready for tonight?”

Sara had signed up for a local talent competition, sure that somebody there would hear her sing, and she’d be free of coffee houses and library steps, on her way to the big time. Elliot hated to tell her that stuff rarely worked that way. He may have been naïve, but even he knew that.

“Who’s ever ready?” she asked. “You should sing too. Moral support and everything.”

“Not singing.” Elliot turned to glare at her. They’d already covered the topic many times that week.

“But you have such a pretty voice. I heard you at Linc’s party last weekend.”

Elliot cringed. Yeah, because he’d been drunk. Drunk enough to sing in public, drunk enough to kiss Shelby Turner behind the garage, which was
not
what he’d planned for that night. He hadn’t even really liked it. It was nice and all, and she was sweet, but it was just… okay.

“What’s up, Els?”

“Nothing.”
Please don’t pry. You always pry.

“Did you do something at the party?”

Of course she pried.
When does she ever not?
Elliot sighed. It wasn’t as if it were some huge deal. High school was over. “I might have made out with Shelby.”

Sara squealed and smacked him. “You slut!” she teased. “Weren’t you kissing Lisa at the party two weeks ago?”

Yeah. And he hadn’t really liked that much either. The girls hadn’t done it for him. He’d kissed a few guys too, and that was better, but nothing to turn his world upside down or anything. Elliot’d had a few crushes but he’d never come across that
one
. The one who made him feel all that stuff he knew he was supposed to feel but never did.

“Shut up.” He chuckled a little. Sara was kidding… like she could talk anyway. He’d had to pry her lips off some guy from another school and chauffeur her home.

“So what are you singing tonight?” she asked, obviously not ready to give up just yet.

“I’m not. Quit asking.”

W
HY
did I agree to this? I must have lost my freaking mind.
Elliot gulped and looked out across the sea of faces. There were a
lot
of people in the audience. More than he’d ever imagined when he’d finally decided to sing just to shut Sara up.

“Um, hi,” he mumbled into the microphone. The low hum of the crowd grew excruciatingly quiet. He wanted to puke. “I’m Elliot Price.” His voice echoed, painfully loud in the sudden silence of the room. Elliot smiled at the crowd. He tried not to look as nervous as he was, probably came out looking like an eighth grader instead of eighteen. “I’m going to sing ‘Wonderwall’. O-oasis.”

He took the few steps over to the very center of the stage and sat on the stool that was there, not sure if his legs would hold him through a whole song. Elliot was grateful for the stool. His hands trembled and he gripped the mic stand. A short nod to the guitarist and it was too late to back out.

Way to badger me into stuff, Sara.

He’d been there to see
her
sing, not the other way around. Yet somehow it was him on the stage about to perform in front of way more people than he’d ever sung in front of before—sober or not. Seeing as how his audience was usually himself and a bottle of shampoo, that wasn’t saying much.

Still, he’d signed the sheet, and two stomach-clenching hours later he was on stage about to make the biggest idiot of himself he’d ever made. That was saying something. One of Elliot’s best skills was making an idiot of himself. He’d really outdone himself this time.

T
HE
first few notes were rough, his voice was low and a bit rocky naturally and nerves made his breath catch. Elliot thought he might pass out from sheer humiliation. He nearly quit right there, sank to the ground, and rolled clear off the stage where no one would ever see him again. But then somewhere around the second line something magical happened. Elliot forgot the shuffling crowd, the “talent scouts” who Sara had assured him always came to these sorts of things. He even forgot about his sweaty palms and the fact he’d never done anything even close to performing on a stage, and he simply
felt
it. By the time he sang “You’re my wonderwall…,” he looked up at the audience, smiled again, and realized he was actually having fun. That he…
really
liked singing for people and maybe even making them happy. Shocked the hell out of him, to tell the truth. Elliot had never pegged himself as a performer.

The rest of the song passed in a blur. He was in his own little world, looking out at the darkened high school auditorium and living a moment that most likely would never come again. When he finished there was silence, echoing and painful, for a good five seconds. Then the people burst into applause. He thought he might be imagining that the applause was just a little bit louder for him than for the last few singers. Or the fact that it got even louder when he smiled and waved as he walked off the stage.

It was official. Elliot was in love.

“I
HAD
no idea you were so good! That was way better than at the party,” Sara exclaimed from where she was waiting for him at the side of the stage. She reached out and ruffled his mop of unruly brown curls. He’d tried to tame them before he went on stage but it was useless.

“I was good?” Elliot asked. His stomach was still full of the rush of adrenaline. Part of him was sure he’d throw up at any second.

Sara smacked him on the arm. “
Yes
. I swear when you smiled there was some swooning going out in that audience. This chick that was practically my mom’s age giggled and swatted her friend.”

“Shut up,” Elliot murmured. But he smiled again anyway. It felt nice that Sara thought he was good at something other than making his father happy. He was planning to go to college in the fall and major in economics to do just that. Elliot didn’t love economics though. He loved music. If this was the one night he’d ever do anything about it, it had been worth it. He was grateful to Sara for prodding him. “You were good too, by the way. Amazing. Sorry I was too nervous to say it before.”

“It’s okay.”

“You wanna head out? We can grab some ice cream on the way home.”

They had at least an hour drive ahead of them. It was probably best to get on the road.

“Sure.” Sara linked her arm through Elliot’s and turned them toward the exit.

They were near the back door of the auditorium when a man stepped in front of them.

“Can I help you?” Sara asked. Elliot elbowed her.

The man looked official, if official was a look. He was tall and a bit intimidating. Black hair, black jacket, expensive-looking jeans. Elliot wondered if the guy was told he looked intimidating a lot.

“I’m Sasha Pulaski.”

Am I supposed to know who that is?

“Um, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and smiled even if he had zero idea of why he was talking to this guy.

Instead of a handshake, Sasha handed Elliot a business card. “Can you be at that address tomorrow at one?”

Elliot looked at the card. The address was right in downtown Los Angeles. The card said Blue Horizon Records.
Wait… Blue Horizon Records?
Was this Sasha guy an actual freaking honest-to-goodness talent scout? At a local talent search? That kind of thing didn’t really happen, no matter what Sara said. It was a myth, right? It was. Except… well, it seemed like this one time it wasn’t.

“He’ll be there,” Sara answered. She grinned at Elliot cheekily.

“Yeah.
Yes
. I’ll be there. Of course. One. Can I ask what this is about?”

Sasha smiled. “There are a few other boys I’d like you to meet.”

Chapter 2

“D
O
YOU
know what this is about?” Tate asked when he got to the studio. Danny was already waiting there with Reece and Webb. Nearly three weeks had passed since that first day. Three long, awful weeks of looking at his phone every five minutes just in case he missed the call that could change his life. Danny had been starting to worry they weren’t going to hear back from Sasha at all. He’d gotten together with Webb, Reece, and Tate a couple of times to rehearse in the hopes that Sasha would find what he was looking for, that they’d really exist. They were all starting to get nervous though.

Then last night,
finally
, the phone had rung and a female voice was on the other end of the line asking if he could meet at Blue Horizon in the morning. He’d said yes about six times, frantic, happy, scared as hell. He hoped it was good news. That was about the only kind of news Danny was mentally ready to take. After all those days and days of waiting, he felt like he was about to fracture into a million little pieces.

“I wonder if he found another guy?” Webb asked. “I hope so.”
He hopes so? Hope?
Webb’s voice was laid-back and low, as smooth as his skin. Danny wondered how he could be so calm about what might amount to their entire future. Danny’s whole body was vibrating with nerves. Reece looked calm too, slightly naked without his guitar strapped to his back, but calm. Danny shared a commiserating look with Tate, the only other one who seemed to be as on edge as he was.

“Gentlemen, I’m glad you could come!” Sasha strode down the hall, the picture of efficiency and power. Danny wondered if he’d ever not be intimidated by him. “I have someone to introduce you to. He should be here soon. Why don’t we go to Studio Six?” He turned to the receptionist. “When Mister Price gets here will you bring him down to six, Jessica?”