Moving Forward (Moving Neutral, Book Three) (23 page)

Chapter Fifty-Three

They led me down a hallway towards the studio, walking so fast that I struggled to keep up.  People passed by us going in the opposite direction, hipster twenty-somethings who barely gave me a passing glance. 

“Here we are,” said Glasses, opening up a heavy door for me.

Inside, the room was windowless and full of people.  I had expected to see Tanner, Sophie and the rest of the band sitting around on some couches and brainstorming songs.  But as I walked inside, at least twenty people were crowded into the space. 

On the bright side, no one seemed to notice
I’d walked in except the cameraman who’d followed us inside, who was now focusing his lens directly on me. 

About half of the
room was full of sound equipment, huge silver mixing boards that were bigger than I was.  Four guys sat on various sides of the table, talking in low voices.

Behind them, there was a floor-to-ceiling window, giving everyone a clear view of the room on the opposite side.  Just as I was about to cros
s the room for a better look, April’s voice cut through the room, surrounding me from all sides.

“The thing is, though,” her voice was icy, and I sh
ot a nervous look through the glass.  When April’s voice sounded like that, it just about always meant bad news.

I looked over at Glasses, who was completely ignoring me.  He was staring through the glass, rapt. 

I wondered exactly what I was overhearing.

I looked through the glass windows, focusing on the other side.  April stood in the center of the room, facing Tanner, with Jesse a few feet behind her.  Sophie, sitting at her drum set, was watching them both, her expression pained.  Three cameramen were in the room along with them, recording from different angles.

April’s voice cut through the room again.  I realized that it was being amplified through the recording equipment — everyone in our room could hear them, but they couldn’t hear us through the soundproofed glass. 

“We already know how you wrote the song.
  You wrote it with Casey Snow.”

I winced.  We’d known that the show producers might
tell April I’d been involved, but we’d figured they’d probably just let it play out between the band members.  They’d known we were planning to tell everyone anyways, so why had they tipped April off early?

My eyes flickered again to Glasses, who was still watching, tapping his foot on the ground
impatiently.

Tanner’s voice was thin and impatient.  “Casey was just trying to help.”

April laughed — a cold, cruel sound.  “Well, she helped more than you could have possibly imagined.”

Tanner rolled his eyes, tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling.  “Enough with the soap opera
drama, April.  What do you mean?”

The pause seemed to last an hour.  I wondered if she was playing it up for the cameras. 

“Tanner, when you came on as our guitarist, you remember signing a contract, right?”

Tanner’s voice was even and calm, but I could hear the
tinge of worry in it.  “Of course.”

“And you know that contract was exclusive, don’t you?”

“Obviously.”

She grinned, like everything Tanner was saying was the best news she’d ever heard.  “So,” she shot a quick look at one of the cameramen, who switched his angle to zoom in closer.  “Knowing that you’re obligated to work exclusively with us, you wrote a song with Casey Snow?”

I was dimly aware of the camera in my face as my jaw dropped open, horrified. 

At the sound of my name, Glasses glanced over at me, a guilty expression barely flashing across his feature
s.  He turned to a blonde sitting next to him and whispered something in her ear.

“I wrote a song
for this band
,” Tanner’s voice filled the room.  “Casey helped me write a song for you guys.”  He grimaced.  “A song you just listened to and liked,” he reminded her.

April’s voice was cool and clear.  “You wrote a song with another artist.  You
say
you were doing it for us, but the fact is, you violated your contract.”

“We wrote it last night and I brought it to you guys this morning,” Tanner was starting to raise his voice.  “There can’t seriously be any doubt in your mind that I was trying to help this band,” he glanced over April’s shoulder at Jesse, whose face was a blank slate.  “Sophie?”

Sophie looked as though she was fighting back tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low but still magnified by the sound equipment. 

Tanner looked at her intently.  No one in the room said anything for a long moment.  Finally, he took a deep breath, still facing Sophie.  “You’ve been thinking about this for a while.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Sophie’s words came out in a rush, as April shot her an icy glare.  “We just realized that we needed… we needed more than just a guitarist.”

Her words sliced through me.  I didn’t feel right witnessing this — why had Tanner even brought me here?  He hadn’t glanced into the recording room once since I’d arrived… it was like he didn’t even care that I’d showed up.

I wondered if there was something I could do, some explanation I could give.  Maybe I could tell them that we’d written the song for Moving Neutral. 
Maybe I could sign away all my rights to the song, so it could be just Tanner’s creation and not mine.

But I thought about what he’d said. 
You’ve been thinking about this for a while.

Maybe our song wasn’t the reason. 
             

Maybe our song was just the excuse.

The blonde next to Glasses glanced down at her phone, and nudged his side.  She showed him something on the screen and he gave a small nod.  Without wasting a second, she turned and walked straight out of the room, hardly glancing at me as she walked right by.

“Right,” Tanner’s voice sounded pained.  “Just a guitarist, I get it.”

“Don’t take it personally,” April’s voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard.  “You would have been out at the end of the year either way.  This just sped up the process a little bit.”

Tanner’s gaze turned hard as he looked back at her.  “Everyone in this room knows I didn’t break my contract, April.”

“So hire a lawyer,” she said coolly.  “Although, maybe not the one you used when you signed with us, since it seems he didn’t explain your obligations very clearly.”

Tanner’s hands flexed, and he took a deep breath.  Turning back to Sophie, his voice was calm and measured.

“If you guys wanted me out, you could have just told me,” he said quietly.  “You didn’t have to do it like this.”

Sophie looked tired and sad.  “
Yes, we did,” she whispered, tilting her head over her shoulder at where the audio guy was holding a boom a foot or two behind her. 

Realization spread across Tanner’s face.  “Right,” he said quietly. 
“The grand finale.”

I glanced over at Glasses, who was holding his breath. 

Suddenly, the camera guy who’d been covering me shifted his position, taking his focus off me and aiming it at the door I’d come in through.  I took the opportunity to duck behind him and out of his camera’s range.  The last thing I wanted was my face splashed all over television while Tanner got kicked out of Moving Neutral, so the more I could stay out of the camera’s line of vision, the better.

“Do you really think you’ll have better luck with someone new?” Tanner said, directly to Sophie.  He was acting as though April didn’t even exist anymore, and I could tell from her body language that it was driving her crazy. 

But apparently he’d given her the opening she needed.  “Not someone new, actually,” she said, giving a half-smile. 

Just then, a murmur passed over the recording room.  No one inside the glass heard it, but I whipped my head around, staring at the door that the cameraman was now focused on.

The blonde had just reappeared in the room. 

And behind her was Blake Parker.

Chapter
Fifty-Four

I was suddenly grateful to be hidden behind the cameraman and out of Blake’s line of vision.  He glanced at the camera distrustfully and then focused on the room beyond the soundproof glass.

“Should I go in?” He asked the blonde.

“Perfect timing,” she giggled, and I wanted to trip her as they crossed the room.

The cameraman followed Blake up to the door, hanging back as the blonde press
ed a buzzer that was next to the doorway.  I saw everyone’s head snap towards the sound, as she pulled open the door.

I s
lid to the back of the room, close to the exit, hoping no one would notice me.

Not surprisingly, they didn’t look much further than Blake.

I saw realization wash across Tanner’s face, and for a moment, I hated every single member of Moving Neutral.  Even Sophie.  Even Blake.

But Tanner glanced at Blake coolly, and gave him a half smile.  “Are we starting an ex-lead-guitarist support group?”

Blake let out a quick laugh, and then stopped himself when April glared. 

“We decided—”  She opened her mouth to continue but Tanner cut her off.

“Nah, I get it.  Out with the new, in with the old, huh?”

I saw Sophie’s lips curl into a sad smile. 

Blake, to his credit, looked at least apologetic.  “They needed a songwriter,” he said calmly.  “It wasn’t anything you could have done.”

Tanner raised an eyebrow.  “Except the irony is that writing a song is what got
me here, isn’t it?”

“It just sped up the inevitable,” Blake said. 

Tanner looked at him warily.  “You sure?” He asked coldly.  “Are you sure this is about the music, and not about you being a jealous ex?”

I sucked in a breath as the cameraman whipped around to catch my reaction.  I saw Blake’s hands clench into a fist, and for a second, I wanted to charge into the room and throw myself between them.  Watching Blake and Tanner get into a fight over me… the thought made me sick to my stomach.

“Don’t you dare bring up Casey.”  Blake’s voice wavered with anger.

“What, Blake?  Are you scared you can’t mess with her head anymore?  Now that she’s finally moving forward, you’
re going to swoop in?”

I felt the color drain out of my face. 
It was like I was watching my worst nightmare come true. 

I took a step backwards, horrified.  Suddenly I wanted to be anywhere but in this room. 

“I never messed with her head—”

Tanner’s laugh interrupted him.  “Right,” he said,
his voice dripping with sarcasm.  “Hey, if that’s how you get to sleep at night, keep telling yourself that.” 

Blake looked like Tanner had slapped him in the face.  I focused on him through the glass — his face looked
pained and guilty, like he knew what Tanner was saying was true.

And honestly…
in some ways, it was true.  Blake had broken my heart again and again, and each time, someone else had been there to pick up the pieces.

April cut in.  For
once, I was grateful to hear her voice.  “I’m not really sure how this is relevant,” she whined.

Tanner took a step back, exhaling deeply.  “
Fair enough.”  He looked around the room, running a hand through his hair.  “Well, guys, it’s been… it’s been quite a ride.”

  Sophie stood up behind her drums, and then ran forward and gave Tanner a hug.  Her voice was hardly more than a whisper but the audio equipment picked it up.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.  “Keep in touch, okay?”

Jesse stepped forward and held out a hand to Tanner.  “You’re a great guitarist,” he said, sounding sincere. 

Tanner shot him a quick grin.  “Don’t worry,” he smiled.  “I know.” 

April looked as though she wasn’t sure what to do, sneaking a glance at one of the cameramen for some guidance. 

“It was nice—” She started to say something, but Tanner put up a hand.

“Bye, April.  I’ll miss the supportive and creative environment you’ve cultivated for this band, and all your constructive suggestions
and help in these past few months.”

She scowled.  “Don’t let the door hit you,” she clipped back.

For a second, Tanner faced Blake. 

“You know,”
Tanner said thoughtfully, looking Blake up and down.  “She might not come running back this time.”

I would have loved to hear Blake’s response, but Tanner was about to walk into the room where I was standing — and unlike Blake,
I didn’t have a cameraman in front of me to stop him from noticing I was there.

I took another step backwards
, dimly aware that there was still a camera focused on me.  I felt the doorknob with my hand and pulled it open.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the blonde’s eyes flicker over, and she nudged Glasses with one foot. 

But I was already out the door. 

I stepped backwards into the hallway, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the bright natural light.  I turned and walked to the left, towards the lobby and the entrance.

What had I just seen?

Tanner was out of the band.  And
Blake Parker
was back in. 

I shook my head, trying to force the thoughts to make sense.  Tanner and I had stayed up all night, trying to write a song that would solve Moving Neutral’s problems.

And because of that song, he wound up kicked out of the band.

I felt my stomach twist.  It wasn’t fair.  He’d done everything they’d asked him to do — and our song was
good,
and they knew it.  And they’d still kicked him out, just because they had an excuse.

An excuse that I’d given them. 

I emerged into the lobby, which was a little less crowded than when I’d come in.  Checking over my shoulder, I breathed a sigh of relief — the cameraman didn’t seem to be following me, at least.  He probably had plenty of more interesting subjects inside.

I sunk onto one of the couches, still overwhelmed by what I’d just seen.  Reaching
into my bag to call a cab, I remembered: my cell phone was still locked in my room at the hotel.  There was no way I was standing in a clump of paparazzi trying to flag down a taxi in the street. 

I sighed out loud, running my fingers through my hair.  I leaned my head against the back of the couch, my eyes drifting towards the ceiling.

Just then, a familiar head of brown hair made its way into my line of vision.

“I thought
I
was having a bad day,” Tanner’s voice was warm and casual, betraying nothing about what had just happened.  “But you look like hell, Snow.”

I giggled, a half-gulping sound that could have become a sob if I’d let it.

“I take it you saw?”  Tanner asked, his voice dry and unemotional.

I nodded, eyes wide and sad.  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.  “It’s all because of me.”

Tanner sat down next to me, rubbing my knee with his hand.  “It’s not because of you, Snow.  They had Blake on standby to swoop in the moment I stepped out of line,” he smiled wanly.  “If it hadn’t been this time, it would have been something.  I’m skilled at many things, but staying in line isn’t one of them.”

I let out a laugh, putting my hand over Tanner’s.

“It’s not fair,” I said softly.  “They’re jerks for doing this to you.”

“Well, I tend to agree,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.  “But what can you do?  They th
ought they wanted just a lead guitarist and someone to be on TV.  Honestly, it was pretty short-sighted, but they were in a bind.  Lots of bands try out new members and it doesn’t work out.”

Something dark flashed in the corner of my eye, and I glanced to the side.  The cameraman who’d been focused on me in the studio was standing a few feet away from us, recording the conversation.

I nodded my head in his direction, and Tanner glanced the same way. 

“We should get out of here,” he said,
standing up and holding out a hand for me.  “Need a ride?”

I glanced backwards, into the building.  Blake was still inside.  I wanted answers from him, wanted to know how all of this had happened.

Tanner glanced at me, as if reading my mind.  A flicker of uncertainty passed across his face.

“He should be done in a few minutes,” he said quietly.  “You want to wait?”

I took a deep breath.  “No,” I said firmly, standing up and letting Tanner throw one of his arms around my shoulder.  “You read my mind.  Let’s get out of here.”