Page 42 of Legendary Rock Star
If I stormed on stage, she’d hate me. If she heard about Fiona this way, she’d hate me. Either way, I lost.
I held my breath as the host asked, “How do you date someone who almost killed a woman?”
Her gaze lost the pool of unshed tears. The cameras caught her confusion as she tilted her head and asked, “What are you talking about?”
The host moved in closer, like they were friends. He lowered his voice as he said, “Phoenix was kicked out of Indigo 5 years ago after he almost killed Fiona Desiree, an up and coming singer who was their opening act for a while.”
Her face turned red.
She knew the truth now. I should have told her not to idolize me, or date me. I’d been a fool. She struggled to look indifferent, but her words were like razors on my skin as she said, “I’d hate to think what the producers of this show have in their pasts to dig up that old story.”
Finally he let her go. She wrung her hands as she left the stage.
Jane took the stage next and I waited impatiently till the after-interview with Maggie was done.
Jane finished with a round of applause from the judges, and I saw Maggie emerge just as they called my name. I said, “Maggie!”
Her blue eyes seemed dead to me as she said quickly, “Your turn, Phoenix. We’ll talk after.”
Right. My turn. This was it. My second chance waited. My first one had died that day, years ago, when I hadn’t been smart, when I’d thought only about saving myself and not another.
There would never be a second chance at fixing that moment in my life. And that was why I was here, now.
12
Maggie
My heart shatteredthe more I listened to Phoenix from the winner’s box with the other contestants.
Jane joined us, but my entire attention was on the screen for the last performance.
I’d never heard Phoenix this … vulnerable. It was magnetic and I couldn’t look away.
I’d been so upset that he’d not told me about what happened all those years ago, but I’d stopped asking. I believed the past was the past.
Yet that had ratcheted up my mistrust. I shouldn’t be kissing the guy who melted my heart with those vocals.
His voice cracked with emotional resonance and I knew he’d done it on purpose.
Phoenix Steel hit every note like he had written the words from his heart. But I stood and wrung my hands as the British judge I’d been so afraid of said, “Phoenix, your performance was brilliant. I’ve not heard you sing better.”
“My heart sings every time it beats,” Phoenix said.
Damn. My knees went weak. He could have been using me all along. And I was playing into his script of redemption.
Until now I’d never had cameras capturing my every move.
Then I winced as the pop star, with her ponytail high in the air like she wanted to model as a horse, said “Part of me wanted to be the girl you’re singing about in that song. You clearly have her in your soul. And I’m upset with myself. You’re so likeable.”
Of course he was. He’d been my teenage dream. And the truth was, I’d barely heard more than two of the pop star’s songs in my whole life. I hadn’t listened to the radio much when I was seven and she ruled the airways.
The third judge, who usually seemed spaced out, just added, “Yeah, that was easily your best performance. You’re super talented, Phoenix.”
And he’d win and I’d be forced to return to my parents—penniless and stupid because I’d believed in a fairy tale that stole my edge.
The host, who gave me the creeps, stood beside Phoenix with his microphone and said, “The judges loved you.”
“It happens,” Phoenix said, and tucked his hands in his pockets like this wasn’t a big night for him.
