Untamed (Thoughtless #4)(116)



“Wait. I want to say one last thing.” The host leaned in, instantly intrigued again. Staring directly at the camera, I said, “If my wife is watching, I just want to let her know…Anna, you mean the world to me…and I’m sorry I…”

I couldn’t say anymore ’cause my damn throat closed up. I gave the host an I’m done signal, and he signed off with flowery words about love and heartache. When the camera died again, he extended his hand and wished me luck, just like the other girl had. I soaked it up like a sponge.

About an hour later, our group was led into the auditorium. The entire room smelled like nerves, and everyone around me was sweating. Even though I knew what I was doing, even though the guys on the judging panel were my best friends, and even though I loved being the center of attention, I felt like I was going to throw up.

Liam and I grabbed some seats in the back of the room so I could observe without being observed. Kellan, Matt, and Evan were set up at a table in front of a stage. They were listening to a guy jamming on a guitar that was provided for the auditioners. They had about ten different types to choose from, along with drums, keyboards, and various other musical equipment. The point of the audition was to showcase a person’s best talent, and the guys understood that that might not necessarily be bass guitar.

Matt was bobbing his head to the beat while the guy onstage shredded it. Evan was casting glances at Kellan and Matt, but by the grin on his face, I could tell Evan liked this guy. I could see why too; he sounded amazing. Fuck. I suddenly felt very inadequate surrounded by so much raw talent. But I was good too, and I knew what I was doing. That had to count for something. Kellan was the only one who seemed unimpressed. Well, maybe he was impressed, he just wasn’t showing it. Whenever I got a peek at his face, his expression was completely blank.

When the guy was done, all three guys accepted him into the next round. I hoped it went as smoothly for me. And Liam. As he sat there beside me, sweating and rocking in his chair like he had a mental condition, I could see how badly he wanted this.

Just as I was about to wish him good luck, a group of people in front of us caught my attention. I elbowed Liam. “Look who’s here,” I said with a smirk.

Liam looked over to where I was pointing, and spotted them instantly. Our entire f*cking family was here. Chelsey was giggling as she pointed out Kellan to Mom. Dustin seemed transfixed by the entire production. Surprisingly, it was Dad who turned and spotted Liam and me in the back. He waved, then gave us each a thumbs-up. I didn’t know what to do, say, or think. My parents had always been supportive, yes, but it had typically been a backseat kind of support. I don’t think they’d ever even seen a D-Bags show. It kind of choked me up that they were here, which was sort of irritating. I was quickly becoming as much of a girlish wuss as Kellan. Goddammit.

When my number was called, I went down to the waiting area. I was next. My nerves spiked as I watched the person before me. He looked awkward onstage, like he was about to shit his pants or puke in the bucket just off camera. I sympathized; I sort of felt the same way. After his lackluster performance, all three judges said no. It felt like it was bad luck to have a bad review right before I went on. The announcer called my name—my nickname, since they allowed contestants to use them.

“Next up…G-Dog.”

There were a few chuckles in the crowd, and a lot of screams. My family was in on the disguise, but they weren’t the subtle type. I raised a hand in acknowledgment, then made my way to one of the guitars on the stage. I kept my head down, and my ball cap low. I wanted the guys to hear my music first, before they realized who I was. I couldn’t play that way though. I needed to engage the crowd. Showmanship was just as important as ability; I’d been drilling that into Liam all week long. Playing well was only half the battle. But once I started up with my usual antics, the deception would be over—the guys would recognize me instantly. Nothing to be done about that though.

I’d chosen a D-Bags song, since I knew them better than anything else out there. I picked an old one though, one that had never been officially released. I figured I’d stand out from the crowd better that way, since everyone was playing D-Bags songs.

Since this was a music competition, there were no accompanying background rhythms. No drums, no vocals, no nothing. It was just me, and whatever noises came out of my guitar. That was nerve-wracking. It was pretty much the solo from hell.

I chose a lead guitar so the rhythm would shine through. And unlike that dreaded time when I’d f*cked up a perfectly good D-Bags song during rehearsal for my parents, I was going to nail it. I silently counted out the rhythm, then started in. The intro was quieter than the chorus, and I kept my head down while I played, stretching out my anonymity for as long as I could. Once I got to the chorus though, I let it rip.

Dropping all of my doubts and fears, I imagined that I was back at a D-Bags concert, rocking out with fifty thousand of my closest friends. The music electrified me as I made eye contact with the crowd. I started singing along to the song I was playing, and making playful faces at the crowd. They were clapping along, dancing in the seats, and cheering my name. Well, my nickname, at any rate. For a few glorious minutes, I completely forgot that I was fighting for my life; I just had fun. Man…I’d missed this. But then I noticed the judges, and I was suddenly yanked back to reality so quickly, I swore I had whiplash.

I knew in five seconds flat that the guys had recognized me. Matt was scowling. Evan looked shocked, and Kellan…he was finally smiling. Matt raised his hand to stop me. I played four more bars before I consented and stopped my fingers; they vibrated along with the last chord, and the listening crowd cheered and clapped. I’d rocked the shit out of my audition.

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