Page 57 of Legendary Rock Star
He shrugged and said, “I wanted out of the production entirely, but my agent couldn’t negotiate it. I know that’s selfish, but I hadn’t realized they’d put themselves over the contestants like this.”
Being selfish wasn’t any worse than tossing out the best man in my life because I was afraid to trust him. I nodded and said, “Thank you for giving me something to think about.”
He then pressed his hand on my arm and said, “I heard you have Mark Powers asking questions about you.”
Phoenix had been on the level.
I rubbed my face and tried to wrap my head around the idea of meeting a dream agent and signing with him, with or without the show. I said, “I’ve never met the guy, to be honest. I wasn’t about to risk my place on the show for the possibility of meeting an agent who might not like me.”
His brown eyes widened. “You keep singing like you did last night and you’ll win.”
“For once my song matched my skills. I didn’t need to learn a new arrangement or lyrics.”
He put his hands in his pockets and said, “If I could offer all the finalists recording contracts, I would. Most definitely you.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
He left and I picked up my notes.
My conversation with Phoenix echoed in my head. Phone breakups were weak. There were things that needed to be said face to face. I was out of my mind, but I finished my lukewarm tea and left to get ready for rehearsal.
Time to prepare for the last time. I fixed myself up in the dorm, went to hair and makeup, and spent the rest of my day in a daze, really.
I’d ended things with Phoenix because I didn’t trust him. And he’d said he loved me.
I loved him, but I didn’t even like myself right now. As I lined up with the other contestants, Rihanne in her sparkly blue cowboy boots stood beside me and asked, “Maggie, are you ready?”
I nodded and said, “Rihanne, I’m nervous, to be honest. I think this is the end for me.”
She let out a snort and said, “Me too. I’ve been wondering what it’s like to be Jane.”
Huh? I tilted my head as the lights for the show came on and the host worked the stage in front of us. I asked, “What do you mean?”
She pointed to the first person in the line and said, “Jane has never been in the bottom three.”
True. But I whispered back quickly, “There’s no guarantee.”
She shook her head and then squeezed my hand. “And I’m jealous of you.”
Once the noise died down, I asked, “What for?”
“You found a good guy who supports your dream. My last few boyfriends all turned out to be total losers.”
This was too much and it wasn’t good to lie. I shook my head and said, “Phoenix and I aren’t together.”
Her face scrunched up like I’d just told her I was quitting singing to become a horticulture major or something. “Why not?”
The words burned my mouth like I was spewing battery acid now. “Because our lives are too different. He walked out on the show. And I’m here to win.”
She said over the noise, “I get why Phoenix left. If I had a mansion, a limo, a dream agent, and a great career still in music … I’d not care about the show either. But you can win and still have him.”
And I had no argument against the truth. Phoenix hadn’t needed to win like the rest of us. He was already living the dream.
Sawyer finished his song and walked off stage, and I said, “You’re talented, Rihanne.”
“Thanks,” she said, and then it was her turn to head on stage.
I took a breath and grabbed my phone. I had about one minute. I heard the ringing and covered my other ear to block the noise of the show as I said to myself, “Phoenix pick up.” But I got his machine.
