Page 87 of Playing With My Heart Strings

“Sage thinks you and Katherine will make it. She says Dusty is smitten with you both.” I don’t know why I said that. I’m not trying to discredit or invalidate their talents at all or throw Sageunder the bus, but I think Valerie needs to hear that she’s just as loved.

But she shakes her head. “Dusty may admire me and Katherine, but our relationships with him are nothing compared to what you two have.”

I wonder if she knows something I don’t, but I don’t have time to ask, because Sage finishes up her song and one of the stagehands pulls me away.

I blink to adjust my eyes to the spotlights when I step out on stage. My song starts out with a simple guitar-picking pattern, and before I get to the microphone stand, Charlie is already playing it on a loop. He knows to give me as much time as I need before the song starts.

“Atlanta, you look amazing tonight!” I give the audience my biggest smile, even as nerves eat away at my stomach. I turn to the band and nod before moving right into the first verse.

The song I chose to perform tells the story of a breakup and the aftermath of a relationship. How everyone—media, friends, family—talks about the happy moments involved with falling in love and how beautiful it all is. But the song argues that love is weird and messy. The lyrics capture the reality of moving on from heartbreak and the acceptance that comes later. Slow drums enter on the chorus, creating cinematic imagery and emotional depth.

My voice cracks during the bridge, but I keep going, even as tears well in my eyes and threaten to fall. The song is my own recognition that I’m not the same person I was when I started the show and I won’t be the same person after it ends. As bittersweet as it is to sing about, it’s also healing.

When I look to the left wing, Colette is standing with her arms crossed, watching me. I don’t let it throw me off, though, even when she raises her cell phone to her ear and shifts her body so no one can read her lips. I close my eyes and grab themicrophone with both hands, singing the final verse of the song like it’s the last time I’ll ever perform. When I open my eyes again, she’s gone.

The last line of the song leaves my lips and the guitar fades out, all while the crowd leaps to their feet. I blow a kiss to the audience, their cheers still echoing throughout the venue long after I exit the stage.

The rest of the concert flies by. I don’t see Colette backstage for the remainder of the show, but a nagging feeling in my stomach tells me there is a reason she made an appearance for my song and no one else’s.

“Ladies, after your closing number, you’ll stay on stage and the elimination will take place immediately,” a producer chirps in my earpiece. “Remember, the concert is being aired, so live voting will be taking place for the bottom two.”

I do my best to clear my mind and not think about the elimination during our final group performance, but my breathing quickens when Jarrod joins us.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight there will be an elimination. Dusty will choose two women who he would like to continue in the competition, and you will have an opportunity to vote to save your favorite contestant.”

Right on cue, Dusty emerges from the right wing. He gives me an encouraging smile, and while I’m sure the intent was to help me relax, it only stirs the butterflies in my stomach.

“Dusty, who are the first two women you would like to?—”

“Miss! Excuse me, you can’t be on stage!” My head snaps to the right as I look off-stage where Aspen is strolling up without any regard for the producer who is yelling at her.

“Oh, trust me. The viewers are going to want to hear this.” Her eyes shoot daggers as the producer stands down. Anything for dramatic television, right?

“What are you doing here?” Dusty meets her in the middle of the stage, his posture rigid and challenging. “You were sent home for a reason, Aspen.”

“Yeah, and the person who you’re apparently obsessed with shouldn’t even be here.” She gestures at me.

Oh no. God, no, please.

“What are you talking about?” Threads of accusation lace through Dusty’s voice. He still has no idea.

“She’s a fucking plant, Dusty. She was never here for you.”

At this point, the producers are panicking, wanting to get Aspen out of here as quickly as possible. Silence falls over the live audience as they watch everything unfurl in front of them. As they process the nuclear bomb that was just dropped on everyone.

“Someone get her off the stage!” If anyone doubted what Aspen said, the reaction from the producers likely made them change their minds. It’s obvious to anyone that they’re trying to cover it up.

A producer runs up and grabs Aspen’s arm to remove her from the premises, and she doesn’t resist. She’s already done her job. The damage was done, and I know I’m going to have to deal with the fallout.

“Dusty, we need you to choose who you would like to move on,” the director cues him in our ears.

He looks at me with a pained expression, but it’s only there for a split second before he sighs and looks at the four of us. “Valerie and…Katherine.”

Sage and I look at each other.

“I’m so sorry,” I mouth at her, because words won’t come out. She doesn’t say anything but squeezes my hand once before letting go.

“Live voting, starting in three, two, one.”

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