Don't Forget Me When You're Famous

Don't Forget Me When You're Famous [Chapter 2]

Everyone who is anyone in the music industry has worked with the filthy rich, Swedish blonde musical icon, John Walters. Not to mention he was the manager for a band I was particularly fond of: the widely known, Black Ice. Which coincidently happened to be the band I was auditioning for. Long story short, if this guy didn’t like me, I was S.O.L.

Shit Outta Luck.

Or maybe skill?

I had just finished my cover of the bands new single, “Melting”

It was twisted, maybe even dark, which was different from a lot of their other stuff, if not all of it. The band was trying out a new sound, and I prayed to the heavens I was it. My performance had raised goose bumps on my arms, the air taking on a sudden chill from the seductive edge to the lyrics, contaminating the air of innocence around anyone who dared to sing the song. I felt a sickly sheen of sweat glaze across my forehead and underarms…. I suppose there was only so much Dove could do. My heart bumped through my chest as though I’d just sprinted a mile, and my eyes were narrowed to slits as I attempted to peek underneath the blinding stage lights at the people I must impress. The band, and, of course, John. Wesley Dean, their ex-lead singer/guitarist showed me a set of perfectly straight teeth in a gorgeous smile and winked. My jaw literally dropped.

“Perfect! That was perfect Honey,” John enthused, rubbing his hands together as though they were cold, despite the fact that it was uncomfortably hot in the nearly-empty auditorium. “Who knew such a voice could come from such a small young lady?” He smiled, the next part intended only for the band to hear, “she sounds almost like a young Christina Aguilera, yeah?” The four band members nodded and I blushed magenta. I was pretty sure that was an exaggeration.

Still, that was the greatest flipping compliment I’d ever received! And from John Walters of all people…

“Take a break, Honey. You’re on again in five,” he dismissed me with a lazy wave of his hand and I booked it double time off the stage.

I whipped my phone out of my pocket, Kale on speed dial. Before it could even ring twice I was bumped by something that nearly knocked my down, had it not been for two incredibly attractive hands steadying me. Yes, attractive hands. You might not understand it, but everything about the person they belonged to was attractive.

“Woooah there,” a musical voice sounded directly in front of me as my phone soared into the air, only to shatter on the floor a second later.

“Ugh, damnit!” I sighed without looking up, kneeling down to collect the pieces of my now useless phone. “Couldn’t you have watched where you were-” I stopped dead clamping my mouth shut before I could humiliate myself further as I looked up into the amused face of Wes. Wesley. Wesley Deans. God, see? Even the name was attractive.

“Oh, I’m uhh sorry about that,” His voice had a tinge to it, one that was rare in the U.S, so it sounded more like “so-ree ab-oat thought“. “I’ll pay for it umm.. What was it again.. Honey? That’s your name right?” Had anyone else said that to me, I would have found it incredibly rude. I mean, I was just on the stage like, two minutes ago! Could he seriously not remember that far back? The only thing that stopped me from being royally pissed was the very, for lack of a better word, admirable British accent that brushed his words.

“Yeah,” I managed to keep a cool face. After all, he was human. Sort of.

“Right, well, just leave a message with John and he’ll take care of it,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and glancing at his watch. “By the way you have about ten seconds to get on that stage before John flips a bitch fit.. Just thought you should know,” he winked again and walked away.

“Oh, yeah,” I said into the air empty air he’d stood in just a moment ago. I doubted he would hear me. I stepped back onto the stage, slightly intimidated under the four stares of the band and their manager. Wes was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, Honey,” John began, choosing his words carefully,” we usually don’t make split second decisions like this..”

Oh no,

I thought.

“I mean we’ve got to consider that you’re still a minor as well you’re education, but-”

Oh, there was always a ‘but’

“-we simply can’t let this sort of talent pass by. We want you in the band, but of course it isn’t necessarily a permanent arrangement. You’re expected to arrive to rehearsals on time, and perform to the absolute best of your ability, regardless of how crappy or sick you may be feeling. Are we clear?” His tone took the edge of a parent entrusting a child with being home before their curfew.

“Crystal,” I heard my voice say, loud and confident.

“Perfect,” he smiled, and the band quickly followed his actions. "We’ll see you tomorrow then.”

I was going to wow the hell out of the band, the world, and most importantly, Kale, with my talent.

I was going to lead a rock group for what I hoped would be the climax of their years together.

I was going to sing for hundreds of thousands of people, if I played my cards right.

I was going to be famous.

How I wish Kale could see me now.