Music Notes (7 page)

“That’s great. Get that dress. What about these pants? I think they’ll make your ass look great!” Mom is holding up a pair of black leather pants in just my size. I have another pair of leather pants that I rarely wear since they cost Mom practically a month’s salary. These are worn and broken in, and I can’t wait to pair them with the red lace top with the single left side sleeve that we found over in another section.

“Yes! Grab those.”

“So, I was thinking that next weekend we could have a salon day before you go to work. I want you to have a fresh haircut and maybe some highlights before you go,” Mom says.

“Mom, I don’t need to spend all that extra money on stuff like that. I imagine that their stylist is going to do whatever they want with my hair,” I tell her, remembering the discussion we had at the meeting about not making any major changes to your appearance or body.

“I guess. Oh, do you want to get your nose pierced? All great rocker chicks have their nose pierced,” she adds.

“Mom. No one I know has their nose pierced anymore. And besides, I’m not supposed to make any changes, remember.”

“I know. I just want to make sure you look your best, not that you don’t every day. You’re without a doubt the most beautiful girl there. I already know you sing better than all those other contestants, but I want to make sure you look the part. Rocker chick is in right now, and I want you to be a trendsetter.”

I exhale dramatically. I’ve never been concerned about setting any trends or following the crowd. I’ve always been more of the outcast or the rebel when it comes to my appearance. I don’t want to follow in anyone’s fashion footsteps.

“Do you need to groom the southern region again?” Mom says, breaking me out of my daze.

“My southern region is fine. Thanks for asking,” I tell her, absently squeezing my legs together a little more. The memory of my first bikini waxing still gives me uncontrollable shivers. Doesn’t hurt, my ass.

Note to self: Make sure you remember your Aloe Vera and shot of Jack before your next bikini wax.

“Well, you should still get it trimmed up before you go. You don’t want stragglers when you’re dressing in front of those people,” Mom says. She always has a way with words.

“I’ll make sure to get that taken care of,” I mumble as I head up to the cashier.

As we slowly make our way through the streets of Chicago, I can’t help but think about the upcoming weeks. My flight leaves a week from Monday which means I have just over seven days to get everything in order. Plus, spend as much time with Eli as humanly possible. Part of me wants to be kicked out in the first round so that I can board the flight and return home. Return to my life at Chaser’s. Return to my life as a single mom.

But then there’s the other part of me that wants to know if I can actually make it all the way. Do I have what it takes to win the whole thing? The trophy. The prize money. The recording contract.

I guess there’s only one way to find out.

Ready or not, I’m heading to Los Angeles to see if I’m the next
Rising Star
.

*****

The bar is packed which surprises me since it’s not a karaoke night. Doc MZ spins high-energy dance music from his position on the stage while the patrons dance and drink the alcohol I’m serving. It’s the Saturday before I leave for the show, and Tiffany has to be happy with the turnout tonight.

I’m just pouring a draft beer in a tall, frozen mug when the guy in front of me catches my eye. “Hey,” he says with a smile and a head nod.

“Hi. I’ll be right with you,” I tell him as I finish filling up the mug of beer.

After I hand the first man his beer and collect the money, I turn back to the guy who was standing in front of me. “What can I get you?”

“How about a Bud Light bottle, sweetie,” he says with wiggly eyebrows. Good lord. Every time. I was just thinking how attractive the guy is, and then he goes and does that.

“Coming right up,” I tell him as I grab his brew from the cooler.

“Three-seventy-five,” I tell him as I pop the top.

“So, I was wondering if after you get off work, maybe you want to come over and watch porn on my sixty-two inch flat screen mirror above my bed.” Again with the eyebrow wiggle. His statement actually completely catches me off guard that I almost miss the mirror part. Full, grab your belly laughter erupts uncontrollably from deep within.

“I don’t think it’s that funny,” he mumbles as he takes a big pull from his beer bottle.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that that might be my favorite of the night,” I say through fits of laughter.

“Uh, so that’s a good thing?” he asks with confusion and hope mixed together.

“Not really,” I tell him as I wipe the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry. No, I’m not available to make–or watch–porn on your mirror. Thanks for the offer, though,” I tell him with a wink as I collect his money.

“Some guy just asked me if I work for UPS because I’ve been checking out his package all night,” Tiffany says next to me with a dramatic eye roll.

“Classic. Wait until you hear the one I just got,” I tell her as Lee sits down on his usual barstool in the corner. “Who’s that with Lee?” I ask, taking stock of the woman standing next to him with her back to us. She’s short with shoulder length brown hair and reminds me of someone I know well. Moments later, the woman turns around revealing…my mother.

“Mom?” I ask as I approach the end of the bar, completely forgetting about the pick-up line I was just about to share with Tiffany.

“Oh, Layne! We have a surprise for you,” she beams next to Lee.

“What’s going on?” I ask moments before Doc takes the microphone in his hand.

“Hey hey, party people! On Monday, our own little Layne is going to fly out to LA and kick some major ass on
Rising Star
! Who thinks Layne’s gonna win the whole thing?” he asks the crowd who screams their approval.

“Well, Tiffany just told me that every Wednesday and Thursday night, Chaser’s Bar is gonna be watching Layne perform. We’re gonna expect everyone to grab their phones when she’s done, though, and cast your vote for the hometown girl. Tiff’ll have drink specials each night and everyone is invited to come watch our girl shine like the true star she is,” he adds with a wink and point in my direction.

“So, in honor of Layne’s departure, let’s have her come on up here and sing a song or two for ya. How ‘bout it?” he says as the bar explodes into more cheers.

My mom shouts her encouragement as Tiffany pushes me towards the end of the bar. My legs carry me towards the stage, the masses barely having enough room to make way for my progress.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting this and I don’t even have a song picked out, so I’ll leave the song choice up to Doc,” I say into the microphone.

“I got ya covered, girl,” he says just before the intro to Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone” starts. I have about two seconds to think before the opening line starts.

For the next three minutes, I lose myself in the music. The lights don’t bother me and the staring eyes don’t matter. The music. That’s the only thing that matters when I’m on stage. As if pulled deep from within my soul, the music grabs me and doesn’t let go. It’s like this every time.

Kelly’s song flows right into Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock N Roll” and the entire bar sings along with me. Every mouth in the place is singing as we croon about a woman taking a man home from a bar–not unlike many of the hook-ups that’ll happen at Chaser’s tonight.

“Don’t forget that Layne’s taking off for up to eight weeks, so I better see those tip jars overflowing with cash at the end of the night,” Doc says before starting another upbeat dance number.

At the end of the night, the tip jars are, indeed, overflowing and the crowd is slow to exit. Jay nurses the fat lip he received when breaking up a scuffle on the dance floor while Zane keeps the people moving out the door.

“I can’t believe you guys did this,” I say to Tiffany who is wrapping up what’s left of the congratulations cake that my mom brought.

She took off hours ago, only staying long enough to watch me perform and cut the cake. Jane from next door stopped over to watch Eli for us, and Mom was anxious to get back home to her grandson.

“Well, we couldn’t be more proud of you, honey,” Tiffany says with what could be our thirtieth hug of the night. Every time someone asked me about the show, I got a hug and was told how much she’s gonna miss me.

“You probably won’t even notice I’m gone. I bet Kyle and Callie will do a better job than I do,” I tell her as I start to clean up the empties on the bar.

“Are you kidding me? I have to have Kyle and Callie work together to replace you.”

“Well, I’ll be back before you know it. I probably won’t even be gone the full eight weeks,” I say.

Tiffany turns me firmly around so that I’m staring directly at her. “You listen to me, young lady. You have everything it takes to win that show. You are by far the best singer that has ever graced this stage. Promise me that you’ll give it your all and that you won’t think about this place or me for even a second.” Her eyes are firm and trained directly at me.

“I promise,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.

“Good. Now get rid of the rest of the empties before you make me smear my mascara. You know I hate smearing my mascara,” she says as she fights her own tears. “Besides, you still have to tell me about your favorite pick-up line of the night.”

Note to self: Don’t forget to breathe. Because when all else fails you, breathing may be all you have left.

I have this eerie sense of Déjà vu as a black town car drives me towards the BLVD Hotel. This time around, I share the vehicle with a girl who looks to be all of fourteen, a guy who carries his guitar around like a baby, and a hipster who smells like pot. And I’m stuck riding bitch in the backseat between the young girl with a cell phone permanently molded to her fingers and the guy who reeks like he smoked a fatty in the airport bathroom. Awesome.

The only silver lining is that there’s a slim chance that I’ll have to share a room with Shawna again. With forty-seven other contestants, I’d say I’m good to assume that I’ll be roomies with any other woman on the show. I mean, what are the odds, right?

After checking in at the front counter, we all make our way up to our respective rooms in the same section of the hotel. Since teenie bopper continues down the hallway in search of another room, it’s safe to say that I won’t be sharing a room with her.

Maybe I’ll be rooming with Corie? We kept in touch through email and text over the past two months, and I’d definitely be happy to bunk with her.

I slide the keycard into the door and give the nob a turn. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hear in an all too familiar voice as I push aside the heavy door.

Note to s
elf:  I
f it wasn’t for bad luck, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have any luck at all.

“Shawna. We meet again,” I mumble while staring down my arch-nemesis. After a two second stand-off, I drop my luggage on the floor in front of the first bed.

“That one is yours. I’m not sleeping next to the bathroom this time since you were in and out all night long the last time. Is your bladder the size of a pea?” she asks with a huff and a flip of her perfect blond hair.

“My bladder is perfectly normal.” I think.

I begin the unpacking process while doing everything within my power to ignore my roommate. I admit that it’s hard, though, when a cloud of perfume and hairspray follows her wherever she goes. And it’s not like the hotel room is that big or anything. The bathroom or the closet is the only place to grab peace and quiet here.

When my bags are empty and stacked within the small confines of the closet, I glance through the paperwork I received at check-in. Dinner tonight is at six o’clock and will be followed by drinks in the lounge downstairs. Then, tomorrow begins with scheduled coach’s sessions.

Round one pins each contestant against another on the same team chosen by the coach. This round is more duet style as each pair sing together with only one being chosen to move on to the next round. Round two will showcase each remaining singer as an individual. However, at the end of the team performances, each coach will choose their top three performers, as well as choose one from the pool of the other castoffs from the other coaches. This gives each coach four contestants.

The third week starts the actual voting round where contestants perform for votes from the viewers. The more votes you have, the better shot you have at making it to the next round. The performer with the least score at the end of the voting period will go home.

The coaches don’t actually vote. They are here as mentors and will be responsible for picking out the songs that each performer will sing. They will sit at the end of the stage as each singer performs their song, and will provide you with their thoughts and feedback at the end of the performance. At the very end of the show, each coach wants to be one standing beside the winner. It’s a great honor and a battle between the coaches. Basically, it’s for bragging rights.