Songbird Read online

  “What are you doing?” Demi demanded, taking a look at the computer screen. She quickly snapped it shut. “You know you can’t read that trash. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “They said I’m going to fail.”

  “And what do they know?”

  “A trusted insider told them,” I replied, my voice as foggy as my brain. Even after blinking a few times, the world was still too bright and blurry for my liking. “Trusted insiders know everything. I’m going to fail, Demi, you should run away now, save yourself.”

  She threw the bottle of vodka in the trashcan, there were only dregs left in the bottom anyway. “You are not going to fail. Not unless you sit around here drinking all day anyway. You need a shower and I’ll make you some coffee. We have rehearsals to get to.”

  “I’m not rehearsing, I’m calling the whole thing off. I’m going to Spain.” I vaguely remembered deciding on that sometime during the night.

  “You’re going to have a shower,” she said adamantly, pulling me up to stand. My head spun, she had to steady me. Good luck to the choreographer today. “One step in front of the other, come on.”

  Her grip around my waist was viselike. The woman had strength, that was for sure. I let her guide me to the bathroom where she threw me into the shower – pajamas and all. Before I knew it, cold water was raining down on me. It woke me up very quickly.

  “Can I leave you here without you drowning yourself?” Demi had her hands on her hips, giving me that disapproving look she had mastered. I nodded like a sullen child before she left.

  I stood, taking the sodden clothes off so I could shower like a regular person. I wondered how much vodka had been in the bottle before I started drowning my sorrows. I hoped it wasn’t a full bottle but I couldn’t remember for the life of me. By the way my head pounded, I’m pretty sure it had been quite full.

  I wasn’t going to replace the bottle, I couldn’t have it around for my three o’clock insomnia sessions. I should take it as a warning and not do it again. Drinking was bad for me. Not just for the obvious, but I was already recovering from an obsessive illness, I didn’t need to replace it with another one.

  Demi had a travel mug full of freshly brewed coffee waiting for me when I was dressed. She stood by the front door, ready for another argument if I refused. I wasn’t going without some answers though.

  “How are my ticket sales? And don’t lie to me, I need to know the truth.” I took a sip of the coffee, it was divine. “I’m going to know if you’re lying.”

  “Tickets are still selling strong.”

  “What does that mean? Have we sold out? Have we put on extra shows to accommodate demand?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, her tell. She didn’t want me to know the truth.

  “Seriously, Demi, I need to know. I don’t want to be the has-been performing in a half empty stadium for a few diehard fans. The truth. Now.”

  She sighed, resigned to the fact I wouldn’t let it go. “We haven’t sold as many as expected. However, they are still selling. By the time you start the tour, they will all be gone. I’m sure of it.”

  “Are we halfway?”

  “About that.”

  “Halfway, Demi, are we halfway?”

  “About a third of the way,” she finally confessed. One third of the tickets with only six weeks to go? That was ridiculous. I really was going to fail. Once, I would have sold that many in the first hour of the ticket release. I seriously had screwed up so badly that my fans didn’t like me anymore.

  “I can’t do this, Demi,” I said, shaking my head and taking a step away from the door. “The entire world is going to know about my failure. I can’t step out that door and let them see it. I just can’t do it.”

  “So you want to be a failure without even trying?” She said harshly. I knew Demi could get angry with me, it was her job to sometimes. But now it seemed like she was just kicking me when I was down. “You want to prove them all right?”

  “They are right. I don’t need to prove them that.”

  “No, they are wrong until you let them be right.”

  “So you just expect me to put on a brave face so they can watch the train wreck? I’m going to take everyone down with me.” The coffee suddenly seemed too heavy in my hand. I put it on the side table so I wouldn’t spill it. “I can’t do that to you or Ryan or the band. You’re all going to be tainted, you’re not going to work again in this city.”

  “If you fail. You haven’t done it yet. Only if you stay here will you fail, Brierly. I know you and I know you can do this.”

  I stumbled backwards to sit on the bottom of the stairs in the foyer. Demi did have a point and I desperately wanted to prove them all wrong but I wasn’t sure that I could. I had thought I was invincible once before and ended up in a fast spiral that only went downwards. It was that kind of thinking that gets you put into hospital and force fed through a tube for months on end.

  I thought about Ryan and everyone else in the tour team that had already put in so much work. The band, Demi, my dancers, the sound guys, the costume designers, everyone. They all must have believed in me to some extent, right? They wouldn’t just be doing it to get paid? Most of them wouldn’t even see any money unless there was a tour.

  And then there were my parents. They thought announcing the tour was a step toward my recovery. They thought my career was back on track. If I pulled out now, they would think I was sick again. They would probably blame themselves like they did the first time.

  I couldn’t disappoint everyone like I did before. I needed to prove everyone wrong. I stood from the stairs, as difficult as it was. Even going through the eating disorder, this still required more courage than I had ever had before. To stand in the spotlight when everyone expected you to fall wasn’t going to be easy, that was for sure.

  “Let’s get to rehearsal,” I muttered, heading for the door. Demi trailed after me, speechless.

  She remained that way for the entire journey. I sipped on my coffee, trying to stare ahead and clear my mind. If this tour was to be a success, then I needed to focus. I had to make some decisions and throw myself into the lion’s cage. I couldn’t sit back and cross my fingers, hoping for someone to wave a magic wand and do it for me. In other words, I had to be the singer I used to be.

  We stormed into the auditorium with determination. I was taking charge again and I wanted everyone to know it. The last thing I needed were for people to question my abilities. No negativity, that was the new rule.

  My band were all waiting on stage, tuning their instruments to fill in time. My eyes found Forest, standing with his guitar. My God he looked good that morning. His mostly-faded t-shirt had the symbol of The Who on it. A black check shirt matched his black jeans. I wished I hadn’t noticed.

  “Brierly, so glad you could make it,” Ryan said sarcastically before giving me a quick hug. Hopefully he didn’t notice the faint traces of alcohol still on my breath. “Jay is ready and raring to go.”

  “Good. So am I,” I replied, determined to show them all. Jay appeared on the stage as if on cue, a towel already around his neck. He was in charge of choreographing the show. He had already spent weeks with my dancers and now it was my turn. I didn’t have much dancing, my movement was mainly just getting around the stage. For a few of the songs I would bust a few dance moves but it wouldn’t be anything complicated. I needed to save my energy for the singing.

  We started on the slow songs – they were the least complicated. For a few of the ballads, I was going to be seated on a stool with nothing but my guitarist at my side. They were the easiest and I think my favorite too. For those moments, it was about the song and the emotions they could invoke. I loved the fact music had the power to capture people like that.

  Every routine after the seated songs was a challenge, especially with the traces of a hangover. I was clumsier than I ever used to be and I tired far quicker than I used to as well. But I got through it all and that was the main thi
ng. Nobody expected me to be perfect in the first run through. They’d give me a chance to learn everything before they started worrying.

  “Now sashay down the runway like you’re really strutting your stuff,” Jay instructed me. I did as I was told and walked from the little platform in the middle of the audience to the main stage where my band was positioned. It was a walk I would have to do many, many times during the concert. I wanted to ensure I didn’t just stand at the front of the auditorium and sing, I wanted to get right in there in the middle of my fans. It was as much for them as it was for me.

  “Okay, now play off Forest. Go up to him, ruffle his hair even. Really play up on the back and forth.” Jay watched, waiting for me to obey.

  I stood in front of Forest, he was still playing the song. Suddenly I lost all of my enthusiasm. I turned to Jay. “Can I play with Ace instead? Nobody ever plays with the drummer, it will be different.”

  “You can’t reach Ace, he’s surrounded by stuff,” Jay pointed out. He was right, of course, but I wasn’t prepared to give in yet.

  The band stopped while we had our discussion. “Then I’ll just do a little dance by myself then. I’m sure you can teach me something that will look cute.”

  “You need to interact with the band, the audience love that.”

  “Well I don’t want to.”

  “Brierly, I’ve choreographed twenty-three different concerts. Do you really want to argue with me?” He stood there, silently challenging me. I didn’t want to have a fight with Jay but I didn’t want to play with Forest either. I tried to quickly think of an alternative.

  “What about if I get someone from the audience to play off? They’d go nuts for that.”

  Ryan interrupted. “We can’t do that for security reasons.”

  I turned my attention to him for a moment. “They’re not going to hurt me, they’re my fans.”

  “I don’t want to explain to our insurance company why you got stabbed in the eye with one of your own programs by an overexcited fan and bled to death. It’s not happening. Just dance with Forest already.”

  There was only one thing I could say. “I need a break.” I didn’t wait around for any confirmation, I just left the stage. Surely I was entitled to a break now and then. Just because it happened after our little disagreement was purely a coincidence.

  Demi followed after me, teetering on her high heels as she ran. I slowed down, letting her catch up with me. “Brierly, honey, is everything alright?”

  “I don’t want to work with Forest. He needs to go.” There, I said it straight out. If he was the one who was causing problems in the tour team, then he was the one who needed to go. We would be able to find another guitarist, there had to be hundreds out there who would be fine.

  Demi sighed. “We’ve been over this, he’s the only one available and he’s really good. He knows all the songs, he’s always on time, and he doesn’t give you any attitude. What’s your problem with him?”

  Why was I the only one who could see it? I was so angry I could hardly speak in complete sentences. “He’s just like… he’s annoying… he’s too much like…”

  If she didn’t get it, then I wasn’t going to explain it to her. I took a gulp of water, trying to calm down. I hated that this entire tour was mine and yet I didn’t have a say in who my guitarist was. My word should have been the last word on the subject.

  Demi watched me carefully, finally nodding. Good, perhaps she understood why he had to go now. “Forest reminds you of Braydon, doesn’t he? That’s why you don’t like him.”

  “Braydon’s got nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh no? It’s not like he was a guitarist or good looking or hugely talented either?” She stared me down, silently challenging me to disagree. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me this has nothing to do with Braydon, then I’ll fire Forest. I’ll go right out there and do it now.”

  Damn it I hated the way Demi could see through me. It was like she had a direct line into my brain and could see everything that went on in there.

  The truth was that Forest did remind me of Braydon but that wasn’t entirely the reason why I didn’t like him. I was more concerned I would make the same mistakes again. If you repeat history then you haven’t learnt anything and I did learn something. I learnt that guys like Braydon needed to be avoided at all costs.

  “I thought so,” Demi continued, interpreting my silence for validation. “Braydon is in the past, Brierly, he’s gone. He can’t keep hurting you anymore. You’ve got to let it go and separate the past from the present. Forest isn’t Braydon, they are two separate people.”

  “I don’t care, I want him gone.”

  “He hasn’t done anything wrong and it’s too late to hold auditions again. We need Forest in the show. There is too much riding on this tour, I don’t need to tell you that.”

  Yeah, that was all well and good, but I couldn’t guarantee I would be able to get through the tour with Forest as my lead guitarist. If I slipped, if I let down my guard, it would all happen again. “Please, Demi.”

  “I wish I could but it’s too late. You need to make it work.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” I confessed. I almost lost everything when I broke up with Braydon. If I was feeling that attraction to Forest already, there was no way I could ignore my feelings for an entire year. I had this stupid obsession with guys that weren’t good for me and I was sure Forest fell into that category. Most guys did.

  “I’ll be there for you,” Demi offered. “You know I’ve got your back. I’ll get you through this tour, you have my word on that.”

  “We can’t get anyone else?”

  “No.” She shook her head sadly. “You know I’m on your side. If I could do something, I would, but it’s too close to the start and it was too difficult finding Forest.”

  I believed her. If she thought we had a shot at finding someone as good as Forest to join the band, she would do everything she could to make it happen. It looked like I was going to be spending the year with Forest.

  “Fine,” I sighed. “But I’m not playing with him on stage. That’s how it all started with Braydon.”

  “I know, honey.”

  We waited another five minutes before I could calm down and accept the inevitable before returning to the stage. Demi took the lead, speaking with Jay. “Brierly is going to play with the audience instead of any band members.” She spoke with such authority that Jay had no room to argue. He just nodded as I smiled.

  Chapter Four

  The lights were too bright but they were good for my complexion so I just squinted and blinked until my eyes adjusted. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said the tour must be taking a toll on your personal life,” the entertainment reporter repeated. So far, the interview had been going well. We’d covered everything from the tour costumes to the venues I’d be playing. This was the first time she had asked a personal question.

  Demi had told me to avoid answering anything personal. She said to be polite and laugh them off, perhaps change the subject. I’d forgotten all the tricks I used to use in interviews. I was a little rusty now.

  “My personal life is fine. My sole focus is on the tour and making sure my fans have a great time at my shows,” I replied, bringing it back to the tour like Demi said. I was kind of proud of myself for remembering the trick.

  “It’s hard to believe after everything you went through last year you have the stamina to commit to a yearlong tour. Were you nervous taking it on?” The woman looked at me innocently, like she was just asking me what I was going to have for lunch. A lion in a kitten’s clothing, they all were.

  “It’s always nerve racking taking on any tour but I’m fully committed to making it a great experience. I have wonderful people around me.”

  “Do you think your eating disorder will play any role in your tour preparations? Do you worry about falling back into old habits?” She pierced me with her gaze, making me squirm with discom
fort.

  The last thing I wanted to talk about was my eating habits. It was frustrating to say the least. I had spent the best part of a year talking about my disorder with doctors and psychologists. I had then spent months trying to get over it.

  Yet it seemed every time I spoke to someone these days, they just wanted to pull me right back to that hell. The reporter might have just wanted something salacious for her story but she was ruining my life in the process. I was purely a means to an end, not a real person that might feel something negative from her questions.

  “Brierly?” She asked when I was silent. I didn’t know how to spin the question back to the tour. What could I say? “Brierly? Do you want to answer the question? I’m sure all your fans would like to know.”

  “I, uh, I think-”

  “Time’s up,” Demi said cheerily as she burst into the room. I could have hugged her right then. “Sorry but we’re on a tight schedule and Brierly has so many more engagements today. Thank you for the interview, we’re looking forward to seeing it.”

  She helped me unclip my microphone and untangle myself from the wires. My hands were shaking, which she knew and was why she was helping me with the simple process. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

  “But we’re not finished yet, you said I’d have an entire hour,” the reporter protested. Her and her producers didn’t seem happy with our sudden departure.

  “A whole hour?” Demi said, like she couldn’t recall the promise. “That’s a long time in Brierly’s world. Maybe next time when she’s not so busy.”

  Demi grabbed my hand and led me out of the hotel room. She continued to pull me all the way to the waiting car. We drove out of there like the building was on fire.

  “Thanks for the save.”

  “I told her that subject was off limits. When will these reporters learn? If you’re going to hassle my client about things you’re not supposed to, I’m going to cut you off and leave the interview. Seriously.”

  Her frustration made me feel better, she had my back. I should never have even questioned it. Everyone in Hollywood wanted to push the limits and if there was a juicy story then it was all the more reason to do it. I just didn’t want to be their fodder anymore.