Page 16 of Disharmony

“Yes, McCallister!” Everyone choruses together, except for me.

“Remember,” McCallister’s gaze rests pointedly on me, “not everyone will have what it takes to be a star.”

Tiffany and the Lockets snicker. They don’t expect a lot from me, but I’ll prove them wrong. We all file into the building and down a corridor. We pass a number of recording suites as we go. At the end, we go through a door into a large circular auditorium with a stage at the front and seats lining the sides.

“Line up,” McCallister orders.

I follow another camper’s lead, and we all line up to face the stage. McCalliser climbs onto the stage where there is a grand piano. He takes a seat behind it and flexes his fingers.

“You should have warmed up before class, so now it’s time to start.” He presses a key and holds the note. “We’ll start with G… down the line… go.”

Tiffany is first. She mimics the chord without fault. She has complete control and holds the note for thirty-seconds without wavering.

“Bravo! As ever!” McCallister praises. Even coaches have favorites. Tiffany smiles smugly at his compliment. She’s technically good, but who wants to listen to someone who has their head stuck so far up their ass? Fans want authenticity, not arrogance. “Next.”

McCallister proceeds down the line firing out chords for campers to match. I’m last, and my hands are sweating by the time it’s my turn. I open my mouth and manage to hit the right key, but nerves make my voice waver. Compared to the others, I fall flat, which is reflected in McCallister’s loud tutting.

“Let’s move onto the most important set piece of the summer.” McCallister leaves the stage and collects a stack of papers from the side, then proceeds to hand them out to each of us. “I’ve picked out songs for each of you based on your skills and areas for development. You have half an hour to learn and perform it in front of the class. This piece is one of the most important you’ll do all summer. I will use it to decide your roles in the final show.”

“But it’s our first day,” a guy gasps. From his bleary eyes, he might have hit the punch bowl a little too hard last night. “Assessment isn’t usually until week two…”

His comment isn’t lost on McCalliser, who shoots him a steely glare that seals the camper’s fate. I can see how he’s earned a reputation as a ruthless coach. Even if the hungover camper out-performs everyone, McCallister won’t allocate him a major part for speaking out of turn.

“This year is different.” McCallister snaps, then turns to the rest of the group. “You have thirty minutes. This is your chance to impress me. Go!”

Everyone scrambles out of the room to seal themselves away in a recording booth. We need to make the most of the time we have. By the time I locate a spare booth, I only have twenty minutes and haven’t even looked at the song McCallister has picked.

I unfold the paper in my hand and stare at the song typed there in disbelief.

Surely, he can’t be serious?

My whole fate lay at the mercy ofLove Storyby Taylor Swift.

This is a living nightmare.

Shoot me now.

The camp wants me to sing pop, but this? I die a little inside every time I hear it. The girly voice, and the desperate pining over a guy… it epitomizes everything I hate. But what can I do?

McCallister means business, and his rules are clear. You either play by them or have no chance. I already screwed up the note practice, so I can’t make another mistake. This is my only chance to sing on the Camp Harmony stage—even if it means sacrificing my pride to get there.

* * *

After listening to the song on repeat, I’m stuck in my own personal version of hell. It’s easy to see why the song became popular. It gets stuck in your head, and you can’t shake it. The only real solace with the song choice is the lyrics are easy to memorize.

At the end of rehearsal time, a bell rings out, and we return to the auditorium. McCallister sits at a table opposite the stage. No one speaks to each other as we take our seats around the room. Some campers mumble under their breath, others tap the beat with fingers on their knees, and another gargles water like they’re about to take the Broadway stage. The mounting pressure is similar to an exam hall before students open their papers. Luckily for those in their first or second years at camp, this is only a trial run.

For Tiffany and me, the two final year students in class, this is our last opportunity to headline the final show. This performance should demonstrate why we’re really here.

First up, one of Tiffany’s girlfriends takes the stage and performs a theatrical version of New York by Paloma Faith. The poor girl tries to hit a high note in the chorus but falters at the sight of McCallister scrawling vigorous notes. He writes with a ferocity that almost tears a hole clean through the paper. After that, her singing goes from bad to worse, and she trips through the rest of the song off pitch.

“I’ve heard enough.” McCallister cuts the music off and calls his next victim to the stage. “Next!”

After the first flop, the stakes are raised. The hungover guy takes the microphone. His voice has a great tone, but there’s no way McCallister is going to offer any praise after his comments at the start of the lesson. If this is how tense it gets now, how bad is it gonna be as the final show nears?

Following him, another of Tiffany’s allies stumbles onto the stage in heels that are completely impractical for walking around the woods all day. The girl has a beautiful voice, almost ethereal, but she keeps looking at Tiffany nervously for reassurance while performing. Something tells me she’s already been handpicked by Tiffany as one of her backup singers and is holding back. She knows there will be another year for her to take the main stage. Being popular and in Tiffany’s favor is more important now. As she builds to the climax of the chorus, the practice room doors fly open with a bang.

Levi York casually strolls inside. His hair is ruffled, as if he only woke up a few minutes before. His outburst causes the singer on stage to stagger and completely forget the words to the rest of the song. McCallister waves her off.

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