Page 93 of Playing With My Heart Strings

I wish I could tell her I’m sorry. That I didn’t have a choice in whether I got to see her this week. That the producers took my hesitance as definiteness and made the final decision on dates for me.

But she’s not running after me either.

Fear that she’s accepted everything courses through my veins, but I push it down as I walk down the tunnel leading to the stage.

The show must go on.

My drummer starts playing a beat and Charlie and the other guitarists start playing the riff of the first song on the setlist as the stage lights begin flashing like a strobe.

Microphone in hand, I run out on stage, and the crowd goes absolutelyinsane. Our set opener is one of my most popular songs, because it gets everyone in the audience involved. Girls in the front row scream my name, trying to get me to look at them, and men raise their beer bottles. Everyone is singing along to the lyrics, and even if they aren’t ones that I wrote myself, it still feels really damn good.

By the time the first song ends, my forehead is slick with sweat. I put the microphone into the stand and walk back to the riser where the drums are to grab my bottle of water. I take a long, slow drink, water running down the side of my mouth, before leaning up to the microphone and shouting, “Howdy, Knoxville, how are you feeling tonight?”

When the roar of the crowd dies down again, I grab my guitar from the rack and throw the strap over my shoulder.

“We’ve got a full show for you tonight, so kick back and relax…or don’t,” I add with a wink. “This one’s called ‘Backroad Baby.’”

Knoxville kept up the energy tonight, that’s for sure. After I introduce my band, finish the last song, and we all exit the stage, the fans chant for three minutes for an encore. And I give them what they want, mostly to avoid the part of the night I’m dreading the most.

After the encore, each of the remaining women will perform one song, then the elimination will take place. The producers all expect me to send Baylor home tonight. They didn’t have to explicitly say it for me to know. I’m also confident I’ll get an earful from Rob Acerra if I choose her. He’ll say she’s not fit for the label. Choosing her would give Ace High Entertainment a bad reputation, and I’d be risking my career.

But for love? For love, I’ll risk a whole lot more.

From the wings, I watch as Baylor glides onstage. She was wearing jeans for the opening performance, but now she’s got on a black long-sleeved dress that falls to her ankles, except for the slits that cut up to her hips. The tulle gives the illusion that she’s floating, the smoke machine only adding to the imagery.

She looks like astar.

I didn’t watch much of her rehearsal, but I do know she wasn’t planning to play the guitar tonight. So when she grabs one and Charlie places two stools in front of the microphone stand, I narrow my eyes.

Baylor adjusts the stand to her liking and takes a seat, crossing her legs. “Knoxville, I hope you’re having a great time tonight,” she addresses the crowd. “I’m going a little bit off script. My original plan was to sing an upbeat, happy love song, but during our rehearsals and soundchecks, I couldn’t help but feel like my heart wasn’t in it.”

A hush falls over the crowd.

“Last week, a secret I’ve been keeping for the last eight weeks was revealed, and it blindsided us all. I won’t lie to you. When I first joined the show, it wasn’t for the reasons you all thought. You might remember the video that went live on theHeart Stringssocial media a week before the auditions aired. That was me.”

A few gasps can be heard from the front row, but it doesn’t seem to phase her.

“My responsibility with Sparks Studio Productions was to run the social media accounts. Mistakes were made, and I accepted the consequences: starring on the show. But somewhere between that blurry video and now, it became less about saving my job and more about the music. About a dream I’ve had since I was young that I’ve been too afraid to chase out of the fear of what people will think of me.”

Charlie begins strumming soft chords, adding a soft ambience to her monologue.

“But I realized…” She pauses. “Even though the things I wanted out of the show became clearer to me, I was still living in a lie. And last week, I hurt someone I really care about.” She looks to the wings where I’m standing then back to the fans.

“So, tonight, we’re doing something different. This week, I’ll admit I was quiet. I was scared of what the future holds for me.” She looks back at me. “But now I’m ready to fight. This is an original I wrote just last night. Knoxville, I hope you like it.”

I don’t know if the rest of my band was looped into this change, because everyone but Charlie looks mildly confused. Yet, none of them bat an eye when Baylor starts strumming a familiar chord progression.

It’s the same chord progression of the song I showed her.

The only difference is the words.

With every moment, every passing glance.

I felt the spark between us and I took a chance.

I learned who you are and ignited this dream inside of me.

Don’t want to lose this love because it makes me feel so free.

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