Out of Tune: The Original 2015 Draft

chapter 17

I think music in itself is healing. It's an explosive expression of humanity. It's something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we're from, everyone loves music

—Billy Joel

I wasn't entirely sure what I expected life to be like after we revealed ourselves on live televisions. But, I definitely did not expect the entire student body that came on the trip to New York to view me as some sort of celebrity. I'd been friendly with most people before being on the Mindy Manson show but afterwards it seemed like everyone wanted to talk to me and be my friend. They all wanted to travel throughout the city with me and were practically hanging off my every word. It was a little disconcerting, the attention that they were giving me, and I was relieved to have Taylor by my side throughout the whole ordeal.

Even the teachers, who should have been extremely angry that I'd gone off alone and completely ditched the tour to appear on the show, hardly held any resentment towards me. If anything, they seemed happy, joyous even, that one of their students was a part of the "mystery band" that had been plaguing the internet for the past few months.

Mrs. Patel especially seemed happy about my confession on television. She kept coming up to me and asking what the plans were for the band. Even after I'd told her that I didn't know yet, she kept coming back for me, as if trying to prove that I was lying to her.

The only person who seemed a little put-out by the fact that I was part of Imagine Reality was Michael. He stopped talking to me, sending me only quiet, sullen glances. It seemed as if he was angry that I didn't tell him, but I couldn't bring myself to care about his feelings nor could I bring myself to miss his twisted sort of friendship too much, though. More than anything, I was relieved that he'd finally begun to leave me alone.

I'd left New York City with one other thing more than I'd expected. Jay Dawson's phone number. Once we'd gotten off the stage at Mindy Manson's show, he'd cornered me in our dressing room, asking why I'd given him the wrong name. I'd just rolled my eyes and resumed packing up my things. While I'd been busy, he'd continued talking and, while my back had been turned, slipped his phone number into my guitar case. The guys all thought it was funny when we found it, roughly ten minutes later, save for Spencer who had just shaken his head and turned away.

Before we'd left, I'd heard from Josh again as well. He'd congratulated me on the performance and said that he couldn't wait to buy our first album. I'd refrained from reminding him that we still needed to get signed by a company before we could even dream of having an album to release. He'd seemed sincere enough when we'd talked and, though I was happy with my life now, I couldn't help but feel a little sad about leaving him behind again. I would miss him, even if just as a friend. Josh promised to visit, but I couldn't tell how serious he was about that.

The drive home was going to be long and awkward. I couldn't help but notice the stares that kept being shot my way. Michael and I sat in perturbed silence. He gazed out the window and I tried to pretend as if people weren't scrutinizing my every move. I tried reading and listening to music, but no matter what I did, people kept staring. Every time I looked up, someone glanced hastily away, guilty at being caught.

Taylor, who was sitting in front of me, turned and began talking to me softly. Our conversation was quiet, light, and made me forget momentarily about everyone who was staring at us. In the past few days, Taylor's popularity had increased as well. Despite being popular before, she'd now managed to surpass her brother's status. People had noticed rather rapidly that Taylor and I were close friends and even those who had known us before seemed to be even more intrigued by us now. Several had come up to me and asked me to play something, which I'd promptly, but kindly, refused. Playing something meant singing and I just wasn't ready for that.