Untamed (Thoughtless #4)

Thinking of something else, I added, “Maybe try engaging the crowd more? Yeah, it’s important to get the music right, but being onstage is a performance, you have to invite the audience in, or they’ll feel left out.”


That was something I’d actually picked up from Kellan. I’d never seen anyone play with the crowd quite like him, and man, it worked. The energy of a D-Bags crowd was about five times as high as other bands I’d seen, and that wasn’t just because of Kellan’s face. It was because we all interacted with the fans. Well, except for Matt. Even now, he kept his head down and kept playing, but his talent made up for it. Yes, I could admit that now, my cousin was a genius on the guitar. He’d earned his spot, and now it was time to earn mine.

I let that thought repeat throughout my head the entire day, and by the end of it, I was shocked that I was still alive. I’d made it through the last round of cuts. Now I just needed to be included on the show.

As the last hundred contestants gathered in a room to be talked to one on one, Cruz and a couple of his buddies came up to me. Extending his hand, he said, “Thanks, man. I think your tip helped save me.”

I shook my head. “Your talent saved you.”

He beamed under my praise, then wiped his hands on his pants; they had been a little clammy, but I hadn’t said anything. Mine were too. “I suppose you’re not nervous at all, huh? Since your spot is all but guaranteed.”

Falling into a chair beside Liam, who looked a little better than this morning, I let out a long sigh. “Honestly, I don’t think they’ll invite me on the show. The guys and I…we have baggage. All of you have a much better chance than I do.” It hurt to admit that, but it was the truth. And from some of the harsh critiques the guys had given me the last couple of weeks, it was clear they weren’t holding any punches.

Liam patted my knee. “Nah, I’ve been watching them with you. Sure, you’re not getting any special treatment, but you’re not being singled out either. You’re just another contestant to them, no better, no worse…so you have as much chance as any of us.”

That thought actually perked me up some, and I wrapped my arm around Liam and rubbed my knuckles into his skull. If my odds were as good as everyone else’s, I’d take it. “Thanks, little bro.”

He shoved me back to get away. “I’m older than you, asswipe.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, laughing. “I keep forgetting.”

As time ticked down, I got more and more anxious. If Liam was right about my chances, then maybe I could actually get on the show. But even still, only twenty of the one hundred people in here were moving on. That meant eighty of us were going home. I wasn’t sure what percentage that was, but I knew it wasn’t good. My only hope was that the guys thought I was worthy of a second chance.

I called my wife as the chopping block loomed larger and larger in front of me. I felt like I was going to one-up Liam and toss my cookies right there in my seat. My fingers were shaking as I brought the phone to my ear. I needed this so much.

“Hey, you. I was wondering if I was going to get a phone call today. How did you do?” Anna’s voice was light and carefree, everything I wasn’t feeling.

“I made it through the last cuts, but I’m sitting here in a room with a hundred people, and only twenty of us are moving on. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Just breathe…you’ll be fine.”

I inhaled a deep breath, and it did calm me some, but not nearly enough. “I’m gonna need a little extra support today. Can you put Gibby on the line?” Hearing my little girl laugh lightened even my worst moods.

Anna paused. “I can’t right now…but I can do something better.”

Wondering if we were ready for phone sex, I crooked a smile. “Oh yeah…what?”

“Come to the door at the back of the room.”

I looked back, puzzled. The room I was waiting in had two sets of doors. One led to another room, where the judges were waiting to give us our final evaluations, and the other set of doors led out, to the main area of the hotel. I stood and headed back to the doors that led out. Maybe Anna had delivered something to the hotel for me. Hopefully it was a sedative. Or alcohol. Maybe both.

There were camera crews recording our every movement inside the room. The host was also in there, interviewing contestants, getting their hopes and dreams on film, in case they were the lucky ones about to be chosen. A camera had been on me when I’d called my wife, and the guy running it was filming my every step. I was so used to having them around me now that it barely registered as he followed me to the door.

“You send me something?” I asked Anna.

“Kind of,” she said with a giggle.

A couple of the staff looked at me as I opened the door, but nobody said anything. Until the final round actually started, we were free to leave. If we didn’t make it back here in time though, we were automatically disqualified, which is why no one but me was leaving.