LOOSE - a Bill Hader Novel

VIII

Very early Friday morning, Emerald had a nightmare. She was in her mother's hospital room, sitting in a chair at her bedside, holding her hand. Before her eyes, her mom started to disappear, inch by inch. Nothing she did helped, and her mother slipped right through her fingertips. She woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing, and cried herself back to sleep.

After arriving at the studio twenty minutes past her call time, Emerald ran straight to the dressing room, where she apologized for her tardiness as her stylist fitted her in her performance outfit - skintight leather pants with chrome safety pins and detailing, and a matching leather cropped tank. There was also a pair of metallic silver boots with a chunky heel, and tons of silver jewelry.

As she did vocal warm ups and the stylist made adjustments to the outfit, Emerald looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes had dark circles underneath, and they were utterly lifeless. There was no trace of the mischievous glint she normally had in them. Quite frankly, it scared the shit out of her.

She changed back into her black t-shirt and denim cutoffs. A production assistant led her through the halls of the studio, where her set was all put together, nearly finished. She couldn't believe they had gotten it ready so fast. The stage was adorned with large green sculptures that looked like crystals, the lights in a beautiful emerald hue to match. It was stunning.

"Wow," Emerald breathed.

Her band waited for her on stage, getting their instruments set up. Her guitar, a glittery black Fender Jaguar, waited for her on a stand, connected to her pedalboard.

"Let's get you on your mark, Miss Rowan." the AD said.

She bounded up the steps to a black X on the floor made of tape, right behind the microphone. When she looked out at the cameras, holding a hand over her eyes to see past the lights, she noticed Lorne was sitting in a director's chair, watching her. And right next to him, was Bill.

Emerald gulped. Why was he watching her rehearse? Her heart started thumping.

"Test, one, two," she spoke into the microphone, her voice echoing into her ear monitors. She picked up the guitar, slung it over her shoulder, and clicked a few pedals until it got the sound she was looking for.

The AD called up, "We'll count you off!"

One, two, three, four, and Emerald and the band were playing her song Kiss Me. She sang wholeheartedly, her voice slightly gravely, banging her head to the music as she went into a guitar solo.

She played as passionately as she could, but something was off. She felt heavy, off her game. Maybe it was the sleepless night, maybe it was Lorne and Bill watching her so closely. Suddenly, she felt extremely self conscious. Thoughts of her mom, all skin and bones and hairless, came rushing into her brain. As she sung the lyrics why won't you just tell me how you feel?, she thought of her dad, the way he wouldn't speak to her about what had happened. How cold and out of touch he seemed.

If all flooded into her brain, filling every corner of her body with a deep ache, and then, suddenly, her voice broke. She was thrown, off tempo, struggling to get back into the music and find the correct key. She felt a rush of adrenaline run through her - Panic.

Next, she was speed-walking through the hallways, back to her dressing room. Emerald shut the door behind her, heat crawling up the back of her neck and her eyes stinging and blurring with tears. Her stomach rolled and ached, the embarrassement flowing from head to toe, as if a tangible matter. It felt like no matter what she did, she'd always feel her mother's illness haunting her. How could she ever get over it?

A knock sounded at the door. She wiped her eyes and opened it to find Lorne Michaels.

"How you doing, kid?" Lorne asked.