Matt was bobbing his head to the beat while the guy onstage shredded it. Evan was casting glances at Kellan and Matt, but by the grin on his face, I could tell Evan liked this guy. I could see why too; he sounded amazing. Fuck. I suddenly felt very inadequate surrounded by so much raw talent. But I was good too, and I knew what I was doing. That had to count for something. Kellan was the only one who seemed unimpressed. Well, maybe he was impressed, he just wasn’t showing it. Whenever I got a peek at his face, his expression was completely blank.
When the guy was done, all three guys accepted him into the next round. I hoped it went as smoothly for me. And Liam. As he sat there beside me, sweating and rocking in his chair like he had a mental condition, I could see how badly he wanted this.
Just as I was about to wish him good luck, a group of people in front of us caught my attention. I elbowed Liam. “Look who’s here,” I said with a smirk.
Liam looked over to where I was pointing, and spotted them instantly. Our entire fucking family was here. Chelsey was giggling as she pointed out Kellan to Mom. Dustin seemed transfixed by the entire production. Surprisingly, it was Dad who turned and spotted Liam and me in the back. He waved, then gave us each a thumbs-up. I didn’t know what to do, say, or think. My parents had always been supportive, yes, but it had typically been a backseat kind of support. I don’t think they’d ever even seen a D-Bags show. It kind of choked me up that they were here, which was sort of irritating. I was quickly becoming as much of a girlish wuss as Kellan. Goddammit.
When my number was called, I went down to the waiting area. I was next. My nerves spiked as I watched the person before me. He looked awkward onstage, like he was about to shit his pants or puke in the bucket just off camera. I sympathized; I sort of felt the same way. After his lackluster performance, all three judges said no. It felt like it was bad luck to have a bad review right before I went on. The announcer called my name—my nickname, since they allowed contestants to use them.
“Next up…G-Dog.”
There were a few chuckles in the crowd, and a lot of screams. My family was in on the disguise, but they weren’t the subtle type. I raised a hand in acknowledgment, then made my way to one of the guitars on the stage. I kept my head down, and my ball cap low. I wanted the guys to hear my music first, before they realized who I was. I couldn’t play that way though. I needed to engage the crowd. Showmanship was just as important as ability; I’d been drilling that into Liam all week long. Playing well was only half the battle. But once I started up with my usual antics, the deception would be over—the guys would recognize me instantly. Nothing to be done about that though.
I’d chosen a D-Bags song, since I knew them better than anything else out there. I picked an old one though, one that had never been officially released. I figured I’d stand out from the crowd better that way, since everyone was playing D-Bags songs.
Since this was a music competition, there were no accompanying background rhythms. No drums, no vocals, no nothing. It was just me, and whatever noises came out of my guitar. That was nerve-wracking. It was pretty much the solo from hell.
I chose a lead guitar so the rhythm would shine through. And unlike that dreaded time when I’d fucked up a perfectly good D-Bags song during rehearsal for my parents, I was going to nail it. I silently counted out the rhythm, then started in. The intro was quieter than the chorus, and I kept my head down while I played, stretching out my anonymity for as long as I could. Once I got to the chorus though, I let it rip.
Dropping all of my doubts and fears, I imagined that I was back at a D-Bags concert, rocking out with fifty thousand of my closest friends. The music electrified me as I made eye contact with the crowd. I started singing along to the song I was playing, and making playful faces at the crowd. They were clapping along, dancing in the seats, and cheering my name. Well, my nickname, at any rate. For a few glorious minutes, I completely forgot that I was fighting for my life; I just had fun. Man…I’d missed this. But then I noticed the judges, and I was suddenly yanked back to reality so quickly, I swore I had whiplash.
I knew in five seconds flat that the guys had recognized me. Matt was scowling. Evan looked shocked, and Kellan…he was finally smiling. Matt raised his hand to stop me. I played four more bars before I consented and stopped my fingers; they vibrated along with the last chord, and the listening crowd cheered and clapped. I’d rocked the shit out of my audition.
By the look on Matt’s face though, you wouldn’t think that was true. “What the hell are you doing here, Griffin?”
I heard murmuring in the crowd as people tried to figure out what was going on. Knowing the jig was up, I removed my hat, my wig, and the expertly glued-in-place goatee; that one stung like a mofo to remove. Without my getup, people started recognizing me, and I heard gasps, then screaming. But mixed in with the screaming, there was an awful lot of booing. I was not universally loved.
Matt turned around in his seat to silence the crowd. When he got them under control, he swiveled back to me. His face was firm; he wanted an explanation for this. For a lot of things, probably. “I’m auditioning,” I told him. “Just like everybody else.”
His eyebrows scrunched together and he shared a look with Evan and Kellan. “You’re auditioning…for your old spot?”
Why did everyone keep asking me to reaffirm that? I was well aware that it was kind of ironic, but it was the only way I could get back in. “Yes,” I said, as seamlessly as possible.
Evan leaned forward then. “You know that the winner is going to be determined by the fans, right? We don’t have a say.”