Page 14 of Disharmony

“Maybe not if they see us sitting with Ash,” Declan says, cocking his head to the side and studying me hard. “It looks like you’re already making enemies on your first day.”

“Crap, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey.” Conor cuts me off, then lowers his voice. “Don’t apologize. We’d never write for them, anyway. Someone needs to take her down a peg or two.”

“Well, I’m not sure about taking her down,” I say. It’s never going to be a fair competition when Tiffany has a lifetime of vocal training and money at her fingertips. I’ve not heard her sing, but I’m sure she’ll be incredible. “All I want to do is focus on my music without drama.”

“The rose-tinted glasses will wear off soon,” Cookie says, exchanging a knowing smirk with the others. “You’re tripping if you think you’ll get through a summer here and avoid drama.”

“Shh!” Leila peels off her headphones and nudges her head toward the stage. “It’s time for Jacqueline’s opening speech.”

I swivel around to see Jacqueline Tate mounting the stairs and approaching the podium. She’s a living legend and the founder of Camp Harmony. She’s greeted with a chorus of applause and whistles. As well as leading Camp Harmony, she is the founder of Starnote, the most successful record label of the century, so she’s a big fucking deal.

“Thank you, thank you,” Jacqueline speaks into the microphone, raising her hands to quiet the crowd. She’s in her mid-fifties but looks younger. She wears her token red lipstick and a sharply tailored suit, which makes her look ready to take over the world. “This is my chance to welcome all of you, old and new, to what I’m sure will be the best summer Camp Harmony has ever had. Each year, I am blown away by the talent I see before me, which is why I have a special announcement to make.”

Whispers ripple through the crowd. Tiffany sits up a little straighter—even camp royalty isn’t privy to news before the rest of us mere mortals.

“We will be joined by three mentors this summer, who I’m sure you’ll all recognize. Can I get a drum roll?” Jacqueline says. Another camper pulls out drumsticks and does a perfect roll off the edge of the table. “I want you to give a special Camp Harmony welcome to the Lionhearts!”

Three figures emerge from behind the curtain. Overexcited girls squeal and almost fall off their chairs. Everyone knows who they are. Their perfect faces and cheesy grins have donned every tween magazine since they were discovered at Camp Harmony six years ago. The Lionhearts are the most successful boy band since the Beatles. In fact, they outsold them on their last album. They are the country’s sweethearts: Levi, Damon, and Zachary. With their cringy lyrics and catchy hooks, their music gets streamed millions of times a day, and they’ve performed multiple sell-out tours internationally.

“Would you like to say a few words?” Jacqueline offers them the mic.

Zachary Royal, the front man, steps forward. He is the redheaded dreamboat and comes from a family of well-known movie stars and musicians. Much like Tiffany, he was born into the industry. The only real surprise is that he ended up as the lead singer of a boy band rather than going solo.

“We’re so excited to be here.” Zachary greets the crowd enthusiastically. Like any good showman, he can captivate an audience. “I think I speak for all three of us when I say that being back at Camp Harmony feels like coming home. Six years ago, we were just like you. Since then, our lives have changed. We’ve traveled all over the world, and all of our albums have turned platinum. Now, it’s our chance to give back to you.”

I call bullshit. I doubt any of the Lionhearts are excited to return—perhaps their attendance is an obligatory condition of their record label? They are signed with Starnote after all.

“And we are delighted to see you return,” Jacqueline gushes, then turns back to the crowd. “I hope all of you will make the Lionhearts feel at home again.”

Behind her, Damon Archer winks to make a group of girls blush. He is tall, dark, and handsome with a chiseled jawline that makes him look like a walking Calvin Klein advert. Despite his impeccable bone structure, Damon is the renowned bad boy of the group and is often photographed stumbling out of nightclubs with different supermodels. While his antics have threatened the Lionhearts wholesome image, his wild side only makes people love him more. Who knew it’s acceptable to act like an asshole and still be worshipped?

Next to Damon, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here, is Levi York. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pulls his cap down to cover his face. It’s always baffled me how Levi ended up in a successful band. He never speaks more than two words in any group interview, rarely smiles, and avoids scandals. He can play the guitar well, but surely there could have been a better pick for the third band member from the Camp Harmony talent pool. They market Levi as shy, which fangirls lap up. All of them want to be the one to truly understand him. To me, he seems like another entitled prick who doesn’t appreciate his privileged position.

“We look forward to working with you all soon,” Zach says, waving in farewell, then disappearing behind the curtain with the others and Jacqueline.

The hall erupts into cheers as they head out, and I clap along half-heartedly. If we’re going to have musical talent mentoring us, they’d be at the bottom of my list. I mean, those guys didn’t even write their own songs.

“You don’t seem too excited,” Cookie says, noticing my pathetic excuse for an applause.

“I guess I’m just not a Lionheart fan.” I shrug. Everyone’s jaws drop around the table. “What?”

“Everyone likes them. My girlfriends used to fight about which one we’d marry when we were thirteen,” Leila says, much to Conor’s disappointment. “Are you seriously telling me you didn’t like any of them, even then?”

“Nope, not me,” I say. “I guess they’re just not my thing.”

Leila chews on her lip. “You’re either gay or an alien.”

Yeah, because they’re the only viable reasons someone wouldn’t be into them.

“Is it so hard to believe I just don’t get the appeal?” I ask. “You’re at a camp filled with the country’s greatest musical talent, and you’re gushing over them? But to answer your question, no, I’m not gay.”

“I agree with Ash,” Conor says. Although, I’m pretty sure it’s only because it’s the first he’s heard about Leila’s pre-teen crush. “They’re not that great.”

The Lionhearts have won awards for producing nothing deeper than catchy jingles. There isn’t anything wrong with that, but music is about more. It’s a way to make a statement and deliver a message in a medium other ways can’t. Music makes people feel something or see things in a new way. Compared to the poetic artistry of the Basilisks, the Lionhearts’ album sounds like it’s been penned by an AI machine.

What could those three show ponies really teach us?

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