Maggie held her hands in front of her face. They were steady. Calm. She didn’t feel nervous at all. She remembered how smoothly everything had gone yesterday and how tonight would be even better. She was in her black dress, her dark hair curled in big, loose ringlets. Iza had told her not to wear her hat since it would hide too much of her beautiful face. Maggie had smiled at that.
“You look gorgeous,” Iza said as she slid her hands down Maggie’s shoulders to straighten out any wrinkles in the black dress. It was funny watching her do this since she was nearly a foot shorter than Maggie. “Your teal eye shadow is a great touch.”
“That was Krista’s doing,” Maggie laughed as Krista walked by, grinning.
“I’m a genius,” she said, blowing on her knuckles. She was in a purple mini skirt, five-inch heels, and a sheer top over a skimpy camisole. “You two ready?”
“Yep,” Iza answered and turned back to Maggie. “Do you want to watch from the wings until your turn, or wait back here?”
“I’ll watch from the wings.” Maggie picked up her guitar and followed Iza out the door. She spotted Cole sitting at his drum set. He was wearing a black shirt with silver buttons. The buttons were undone on the top, showing his collarbone and part of his chest. He looked so relaxed and happy. So did everyone else. Maggie swept her eyes across the stage then out to what she could see of the audience. There was a huge Christmas tree set up in the back corner, and white twinkling lights were strung in a canopy along the ceiling. Cole had told her this was a private corporate party. Most of the men were in fancy suits, the women in expensive dresses with their hair and makeup done like they were going to a royal wedding.
Looking out across the audience, a small seed of worry started growing in Maggie’s gut. There were so many people. Suddenly, she was secretly glad there was nobody she knew out there, just in case she messed up and made a fool of herself. Nathan had wanted to come, but he had a test he couldn’t get out of.
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
She focused on Cole as the worry in her gut swelled a little more. She couldn’t get nervous now. Not now. Cole smiled at her. The worry fizzled out. She could do this.
“Y’all ready for some music?” The MC asked as he stepped onto the stage. He was tall and dressed in a tuxedo and cowboy hat. He waved at everyone with his free hand as he clutched his microphone.
Everyone cheered, most of them raising their drinks in salute.
“Runnin’ Iron is here to play for us tonight.” He leaned forward with a sly smile. “Their drummer is from Down Sugar Road.” He swept a hand back toward Cole, who raised a hand and nodded as a cheer went up from the crowd. Maggie didn’t think news had spread yet that he had left Down Sugar Road, but she supposed the fact that he was connected to the band at all was what mattered.
Then the MC glanced over at Maggie with a twinkle in his eye. “Speaking of Down Sugar Road, our band tonight has a guest singer, Maggie Roads, whose parents I’m sure y’all know are Todd and Sandy Roads. Don’t know ’bout you guys, but I haven’t heard Maggie sing yet. I’ll bet she’s as great as her parents. What d’y’all think? You excited?”
Why did he have to bring her up? The worry came back full-force and started growing faster than before. She stared down at her guitar.
There was another cheer, but she hardly heard it over the sound of her own heartbeat. She was supposed to eat this up, not shy away from it. But it was different than she had imagined. She wasn’t ready. She thought she’d be singing on stage in front of a bunch of people who didn’t know who she was. Now their heads were full of expectations she couldn’t meet. Or could she?
Lifting her gaze to Cole, she noticed he was watching her like a hawk as the MC kept talking. Cole mouthed something to her, but she didn’t catch it at first since his face was in the shadow of his hat brim. He repeated the phrase twice until she realized he was saying, “You’ll do great!” Then he turned and faced the audience again.
The MC finally stepped off the stage, and Justin said a few things before the band started their first song. Halfway through, her heart finally started slowing to a normal pace. She could do this. She would do this. More than anything, she had to prove to herself that what she had wanted all her life wasn’t going to be totally wasted.
Tapping her foot, she let herself enjoy every new song the band played. The audience was dancing and singing and drinking. Krista and Justin were amazing together, their theatrical personalities lighting up the stage.
Then Maggie’s mouth went dry when they reached the song right before hers. How had she thought this was a good idea? She was a guest singer. Of course she would stand out. Of course someone would recognize her. Her parents’ career had always been tied together with their marriage, and a huge part of that marriage was her, meaning she was a familiar face to their fans. She had never been afraid of it until now. Her insides felt like they were trying to break through her skin. She felt lightheaded. Wobbly.
The song ended and Justin introduced the next song, clapping as he said her name, and she forced herself to step into the spotlight with a smile plastered on her face. At least she had her guitar to hide behind. Kind of.
I’m not what you expect, she wanted to say into the microphone, but I’ll try to impress you anyway.
She pressed her guitar close and waved to the audience as she took her place next to Justin. She knew she looked hot, so that was comforting. Her dress was a little above her knees, showing off some slender leg and her teal boots. Her hair probably didn’t shine like her mom’s, but that was okay. Her makeup was perfect, and she could keep a smile on her face for the whole song if she needed to.
So many eyes on her. So many smiles. So much energy flowing into her.
“Good evening,” she said into the microphone, her amplified voice melting into an eruption of cheers and smiles and clapping.
And just like that, the worry dissolved. This wasn’t so bad. They wanted her up on the stage, and she wanted to open her mouth and sing for them. This was different from when she had stood in the same spot in front of an empty room. The energy was palpable. She took a deep breath and swallowed it whole, let it fill her up as the music started—those familiar phrases, pearls on a string, and she tapped her foot and looked at Justin, who smiled and started his lines with the same energy she felt coursing through her. Then she was singing with him and the song spiraled through the room with its beat and melody. She looked out over the audience, smiling at strangers as if they were her friends . . . until she reached the Christmas tree, where her gaze froze.
No, no, no . . .
Her palms started to sweat, making her guitar slip as she stared at her parents. They were in a dark corner, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see them. Her dad had his hat on, so she couldn’t make out his face, but she would recognize that familiar stance anywhere. Her mom was right beside him, her hands clasped to her mouth in a prayer-like position. She looked . . . happy, nervous, excited . . . Maggie couldn’t tell.
More sweat on Maggie’s palms. How had they known she would be here? Why would they decide to show up even though it was a private party? How had they gotten in? Stupid question. Who wouldn’t let Todd and Sandy Roads into their party?
The worry inside Maggie pulsed through her fingers, messing her up more and more. She wasn’t them. She couldn’t fill their shoes. No matter how good she was. Her fingers fumbled on her guitar strings and suddenly she was out of tune and she couldn’t slide back to where she needed to be. Nathan had taught her about centering herself. She imagined his hand on the small of her back. Pearls on a string. Justin’s voice melting into hers. Cole’s rhythm running through her, a steady river. Iza’s gorgeous tones on the fiddle. Blake’s bass line deep in her gut. All of it started to unwind from the rope she had spent so long twisting together. She heard nothing but noise once it unwound, banging pots and pans. Maybe she was amusic, just like Cole thought.
Her voice broke into a shuddering sob. She stopped playing and let her sob give way to tears. Everybody’s eyes were on her, mouths dropping open. Sandy lowered her hands from her mouth, revealing an expression of horror. Todd put his arm around her and she reached up to rest her hand on his, as if they weren’t about to get a divorce. Maggie stepped back, confused.
Turning, she nearly tripped in her boots as she ran off the stage. The song kept going. She heard Krista take her place and pick up the lyrics in the right spot. Her voice was flawless. Cringing, Maggie looked around. She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know what had just happened. She’d been doing great and then she completely fell apart.
Stumbling into the hallway, she searched frantically for an escape route. Windows overlooked a manicured garden blanketed with snow. There was a stairwell leading upstairs and an elevator to the left. A sign with gold letters and an arrow pointed in the direction of the lobby. Good. She could get out of here. Her face was wet with tears and probably streaked with mascara. She kept her eyes on the floor as she held her guitar close. Following the signs, she was about to turn a corner when voices stopped her in her tracks.
“I hope she won’t be following in her parents’ footsteps,” a woman’s voice said, and Maggie could practically hear her nasty sneer. “I’m so sick of all these young, talentless singers rising to the top. Where’s the real talent, you know?”
Maggie was trying to swallow the lump in her throat when the woman and a man walking beside her rounded the corner. Rather than face them, she spun around and ran back down the hallway. There had to be another way out.
Talentless.
That was exactly what she was. That horrified look on her mom’s face. This was what she had wanted to protect Maggie from. She’d known something like this would happen, that Maggie didn’t have what it took to go all the way. She fell apart too easily. One small distraction and she was right back to square one, standing in the middle of noisy music with no way to connect with it. That was why her parents had pushed her to write instead. It was a safe place—safe from this kind of humiliation. She wasn’t cut out for it. But she wanted to be, more than anything.
She was shaking with her pathetic sobs when she nearly ran into someone. With a gasp, she looked up to see a familiar pair of deep brown eyes. They were sad and concerned, and she tried to rip away from the hands closing around her shoulders, steadying her. Her guitar was a wall between them.
“Maggie, calm down. It’s not as bad as you think.”
She went limp for a second, too exhausted to fight him. “How did they know?” she hissed. “Who told them?”
He was no longer wearing his hat. His mashed curls fell across his forehead as he shook his head. His bottom lip twitched. “I don’t know,” he whispered, “but it’s probably my fault. I talked to your dad a few days ago. I told him about my new band, but that was it. I guess they found out where we’d be playing next and decided to come. I didn’t know . . .”
“I’ve ruined everything,” she whimpered, hanging her head.
Cole released a hand from her shoulder so he could wipe away some of her tears. “You haven’t ruined everything. If you can’t get up off the floor when you fall down, then what’s the point of everything you’ve been trying to do? You can’t give up this easily.”
He forced a smile, but it didn’t comfort her. She hated that woman’s voice echoing in her head. Talentless. Talentless. She hated that for the rest of her life she would never forget what it felt like to screw up in front of so many people. It was going to end up in some news article somewhere, she was sure of it. With her luck, someone had probably recorded it on their smart phone. It was only a matter of time before it hit the Internet. Documented forever. The worst thing of all was that her parents were right. All of her old voice teachers were right, and the two most extraordinary men in her life were completely wrong.
Cole kept his eyes on hers, waiting for his words to sink in. He let out a sigh and clenched his jaw. “Maggie, you have got to pull it together. You messed up, but every musician embarrasses himself at some point. Nobody’s perfect. I know you’re stronger than this.”
“But we do have to be perfect,” she said through gritted teeth. “You should know that. You lived around my parents for four years. Nothing goes overlooked. When their divorce hits the press, their fans will feel let down and betrayed. Their sales will drop. They’ll never hit the same peak. What they’ve got now is as good as it will ever get. Now I’m going to start my career by crying and running offstage? It’s not going to work, Cole. It was over the second I went out of tune up there.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I should have known this would happen.”
His eyes narrowed as he released his grip on her shoulders. “If you’re convinced you’re a failure, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I’m too tired . . . I’m too . . . you have no idea what else I’m trying to . . . never mind.”
She squared her shoulders and jutted out her jaw. “What you’re trying to what, Cole? Why can’t you just tell me what you’re hiding? Why is it so hard to just tell me?”
She could see he wanted to tell her, the way he knotted his eyebrows and studied her face, as if trying to figure out how she would react. But then she heard voices calling her name from down the hallway, and she knew she had to leave.
“Bye, Cole.”
And with that, she took off toward the lobby.