Page 16 of Legendary Rock Star
Her shoulders slumped and she headed off stage.
My heart beat faster as I waited for her to come in the door.
She finished her after-performance interview and plea for votes and headed into the wait room as Wyatt finished out the night with his country music.
I jumped off the guys’ couch and greeted her at the door as she said, “They hated me.”
I hugged her and confirmed my suspicion. Her outfit was too tight. I rocked her and said, “No, they didn’t.”
I felt her tears on my shirt as she said, “I won’t be shocked if—”
I wiped her face and wished she hadn’t worn this over-dramatic stage makeup as I said, “Don’t say anything negative. Cameras are watching us in here. Let’s just cheer on Wyatt now.”
Jane scooted over to let her sit next to her as she said, “I thought you were both amazing.”
Maggie turned and held the other woman’s hand like they were friends now as she said, “Jane, you made your song country-rock glam. I was half terrified to go next.”
Jane’s brown eyes assessed both of us as she said, “I’m doing my best here, same as you are.”
“I guess,” Maggie said.
I took my phone out and read a new message from Mark. The last thing I needed was for Maggie to get bad press because of me. She’d never talk to me then.
But my hair stood on end as I read:If your girl keeps wearing clothes like that your likeability factor goes down. And she’ll lose. A good girl at your side helps repair your image. Don’t mess up your comeback.
I forwarded the text to Maggie while her conversation with Jane lulled. As she read it, I asked, “Is this okay?”
I won’t ever wear a corset again, she texted me back.
At least she had a professional star-maker’s opinion now. She hadn’t wanted to listen to me.
Wyatt’s song ended and the judges critiqued him.
We all filed out to go back on stage in a few minutes. I pressed my hand on the small of Maggie’s back and as we turned a corner, I said, “Look, no matter what happens next, I want to talk to you, alone.”
Her blue eyes were huge as she stared at me and asked, “Are we allowed to leave here?”
There was a commercial break. We had a minute. I pointed to a closet and said, “Come with me.”
She glanced over her shoulder. No one was paying attention to us. She nodded and we ducked inside the nearly pitch-black room.
I could hardly see her, but I held her hand to my heart as she asked, “Where are we?”
In a few minutes the judges would announce the lowest three. I clung to her and said, “I just wanted to be alone for a minute to say that meeting you changed me. I’ve had songs flowing through me that I’m having trouble getting the time to get down.”
She cupped my face and said, “That’s great.”
Honestly, she made the world better for me. I said, “I already sold two more songs to Indigo 5.”
She bounced on her feet and her smile somehow made the dark room brighter. “So you won’t mind when I win.”
I kissed her hand and wished I could kiss her. But her stage makeup would show on me, so I held back the urge and said, “That won’t happen. But I keep seeing that you’re important to me.”
“Me?” she asked, and her new fake lashes batted.
I hoped I was wrong, but I had a bad hunch. Hair and makeup had sabotaged my gem. I said, “While I want to win, I want you with me when it happens.”
The music grew louder. Commercials were ending and she patted my shoulder and said, “We should get back out there.”
