Page 31 of After Effect

But I had a full recording of the album on standby. Worst case, she would just have to lip sync. She’d be fine. I’m going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. I ran a hand through my hair and paced some more. How long does makeup take, anyway? Her face is perfect. This is silly.

“Worried?” Lilly’s voice shot through my ears, ripping my attention to the door. Her outfit was perfectly styled, with flattering, tight leather and well placed fishnet, and her complexion was fortified so it could stand up to the glaring lights without blowing out in pictures. The dark hair cascading around her was combed slightly to the side, in attractive and very Hollywood waves. I couldn’t have ever imagined she could look more flawless, but here she was- a star that no one could possibly resist falling in love with.

No one...

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lilly was in my face now, waving me out of my daze. I cleared my throat and looked away, placing a balled fist over my mouth to partially hide the hints of red in my cheeks.

“Not if you go out there looking like that.” I spoke under my breath, not wanting her to entirely hear me. “Are you worried?”

Lilly’s eyes drifted to the side. She chuckled a forced chuckle. “I uh… it can’t be worse than my audition. Probably.”

Very confidence inspiring… My own worry wasn’t helping. She had been passing every test lately. How different could this be? I forced myself to get a handle on my emotions for half a minute, and patted Lilly sternly on the shoulder. I can’t keep letting her rattle me like this.

“Look, I’ll be in the audience. If anything goes wrong, just look at me. Pretend I’m the only one there, just like old times. You’ve got this.”

“Right. I’ve got this.” Her expression was more serious than I had ever seen it. She reached out a hand and rested it lightly on my cheek, her eyes drilling into me with unflinching contact. “I’ll just look at you.”

My heartbeat picked up pace. Her gaze drifted to my adam’s apple as I swallowed. A mocking smile crept onto her lips.

Then she stepped away without saying another word. She turned to exit the room, giving me one last wave as she headed to the stage. I watched the door close as she disappeared, then removed my glasses to clean them. Despite the fire under my skin, I was relieved to see they hadn’t visibly steamed. Though it felt like they should have.

She had no idea the effect she really had on people. On... me.

I had to remind myself that the charisma I was so drawn to was the same charisma that made her more than just another voice on the radio. Her little smiles and vague flirting wasn’t personal. It was just the natural stage presence of a performer. I wouldn’t let my confused sexuality get in the way of her career. She needed my writing and my patience to make it to the top, and I’d hide these feelings forever if it meant I could help her succeed.

It sounded so noble in my head, but it felt so pathetic in my chest.

###

“Good morning, Los Angeles!” Greg Winner of KRaw radio stood on the stage, facing a packed house. Most of the crowd was composed of women everywhere from their early twenties to their late forties, alongside a few hapless boyfriends or husbands who got dragged along. This would be a good start for whittling down the perfect target audience.

“At KRaw radio, we always want our listeners to hear it from us first. Tonight, we’ve got a new voice for you guys, as she releases her debut album. Let’s welcome Lilly Cisneros to the stage!”

I stood with my hands in my pockets in the back of the room, standing beside the sound mixer. The studio audience cheered, as prompted by a red neon sign beside the stage. People who won free tickets to a concert that’s airing live on the radio shouldn’t need much prompting to be excited, but it was all part of the experience. It made people feel like they were part of something official.

Lilly waved to everyone, then she took her place in the spot light with Greg, “I’m stoked to be here, Greg.” She sounded confident. She didn’t seem to be shaking. If her blood was rushing to her face from panic and anxiety and embarrassment, the make-up was doing a fantastic job of hiding it. All’s well so far, so long as everyone kept to the script.

“So what’s your story? It says here you’re born and raised in Oxnard, but how does a farm kid from Oxnard end up in downtown Burbank singing Pop music?” Greg recited the first question with the casual perfection one might expect from a seasoned radio host.

“You might be surprised how much singing you do when you’re stuck spending your Saturday picking up rocks.” Somehow, Lilly sounded just as natural. “We had the best acapella Mariachi band in Oxnard. I was the trumpet.” She mimicked the sound of a trumpet with… unexpected accuracy.

The audience laughed without having to be told. The interview shifted to performance, and Lilly began her set with her audition song- which was also the first track on the disc. Young women whispered to their friends, and even the most disinterested boyfriend was trying to hide the smile on their face. Lilly was effortlessly appealing. This was why I refused to give up on her. ALIVE needs someone like Lilly. So does America. So do I.

For my career, I mean. She’ll make my career if she can stay focused.

Greg’s voice interrupted my train of thought exactly when I needed something to. “That was electric!” The crowd clapped. “And that’s the first song on ‘Watching Broken Clocks’?”

“That’s right, Greg. That was the first song I ever wrote that didn’t feel like a total dumpster fire. So I figured it should be the first song the rest of the world gets to hear, too.” Lilly seemed to be really getting into it now. She laughed easily, sang perfectly, and no one could take their eyes off her. Every now and again, she’d glance my way for a quick recharge of courage, but I don’t think she even needed it.

“I love it.” Greg continued the interview. “So speaking of the album, why ‘Watching Broken Clocks’? Where did that name come from?”

“Why, indeed.” Lilly took on her usual Cheshire smile. “Have you ever been sitting at work, watching the clock, and no matter how long you stare at it, it never seems to get any closer to clock out time?”

“My producer is listening to this, so of course not. But I’ve heard there might be some people who don’t love their job as much as I do who have had that problem.” Greg chuckled.

“Of course, of course. Well, I think those people, who definitely aren’t you,” Lilly gave him a wink, “will know what I mean when I say that’s what my whole career has felt like up until now. I must have sent out a legit 200 something mix tapes to agents, studios, random people on Venice Beach- literally anyone who would listen. Then I’d sit at my desktop, refreshing my inbox over and over and over again, just hoping one of those people would get back to me. I just wanted an answer, positive or negative, so I knew at least one person out there heard my song. Every time I woke up and there wasn’t at least a rejection waiting for me, I felt like I was waking up on Christmas without any presents. I was convinced I was staring at the clock that had broken at 4:59, and that last minute to freedom was never going to come.”

“Sure, it’s a tough industry.” Greg nodded along.

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