Sing For Me

Chapter Ten: The Hot Seat

The next song finishes moments after I sit down. Red is right beside me, in the seat that would have been mine if Abbey was okay.

But she's not okay. I remind myself. Far from it.

I try to force worrying about Abs out of my brain so I can get through the next few minutes of my life. I think about what I'd rather be doing right now instead of sitting in this stupid seat. I visualize going home to my shitty little flat, slamming the door to the bathroom closed and cranking the water up super-hot in the shower. I think about what the steam would feel like against my face, what it would look like as the condensation crept up from the corners of the bathroom mirror. My little internal fortress collapses as Red hooks her snaking hand through my elbow, pinning my arm to the armrest, and my head back into the game we're playing.

"Smiling is in the contract too, honey. Remember, for the next few minutes, no one is more desirable than whoever walks through that door." Red whispers to me, making sure that her lips can't be seen by the cameras that are now beaming my image along with the other hot seaters up onto the big screens. The lights and the cameras and the incessant high-pitched screaming make me feel sick. For a moment, I seriously consider if the frequency of the screaming has ruptured my spleen.

Four grinning faces – a couple with complete with hyperventilating and tears – and my own less-than-happy one beam across the stadium, as a narrator's voice pulsates around the stadium.

"I'd like to take a moment to introduce the five luckiest people in the world tonight, ladies and gentlemen our hot seat winners!" Says the nameless voice, as the word 'Abbey' flashes underneath my projected face. I smile my constipated goat smile and dig my hands out of the pocket of my leather jacket so I can wave to the audience. "The only question on their lips tonight folks is 'Which fantastic member of the legendary Babel band will I be serenaded by?'... Well let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, NOW is the moment that we'll find out!"

My insides liquefy, and not in a good way. Yep, my spleen is definitely ruptured. I mentally note to ask the paramedics – or at least Doctor Google – how long it takes for someone to die once their spleen has burst like an overripe pimple. With any luck, I'll have an hour or so to say my final goodbyes and show Trix where I leave Scruff's cat biscuits.

As the noise crescendos up to a decibel level that would rival that produced by a million jumbo-jets stuck in the Grand Canyon, my heart starts to race. The noise is constantly demanding, and I feel like my skin has been penetrated by it. I hear a ringing in my head, a sound exactly like the one you hear in movies when the protagonist gets flattened by an explosion.

It's going to be Tim. I can feel in my heart that it's going to be him. He knows exactly who I am... and I'm here, and I know nothing about him. And he's going to come out. And I'm going to have to smile and act like everything is fine even although my spleen is ruptured and my best friend has been drugged and, dammit, I can't let Scruffs be parentless again...

"And I can't just walk away this time," I whisper under my breath. Red looks at me like I'm some kind of crazy person which, to be honest, yeah. I probably am. My skin is all crawly and goosebumpy and now I know exactly what it feels like to be a deer in headlights. Or Katniss in The Hunger Games. Or what that brief moment of hope feels like when you're wearing the sorting hat at Hogwarts and for a second, you're sure they're going to shout Gryffindor! Even although you already know deep inside that you're a born Slytherin with a dash of Hufflepuff.

"Gryffindor's always been a pipe dream," I say to myself. I just... I don't know. Sometimes talking to myself is the only way I can calm myself down. But Red is, like, seriously starting to look at me like I'm crazy, so I should really shut my mouth...

One by one the members of Babel walk out onto the balconies of each of the hot seat girls. First Brian, then Lachlan, then Aidan – or it could be Brendon, I guess. All three girls break out into hysterical tears. I see Red smile smugly at the screens.

Red's smile falters a little as the next singer – Brendon, or Aidan – misses his cue on his balcony by about ten seconds. She takes a sharp breath in, and I realize who should have been on that balcony.

He remembered me. And he's switched places.

My stomach's all tied up in knots, and it doesn't take a billionaire space-tech genius to know who is coming next.

~~~ A/N ~~~

Thank you for reading! <3 What did you think?

How's Meg going to cope on the Hot Seat? What's in store for Abbey? Tune in on 29/09 to find out!

Remember to leave a vote if you liked this story! :)

Have a terrific day!

Emxx

~~~ <3 ~~~