Page 1 of Sing Your Heart Out

1

Smith

Cody looks at me out of the corner of my eye as we drive. He doesn’t say anything, but the weight of his considering gaze makes me jumpy.

“What?” I ask, glancing at him. He’s in the driver’s seat, his black t-shirt and black jeans clashing starkly modern against the blue suede interior of the old truck.

He shrugs, not looking right at me. “Just wondering if you’re doing the right thing. I mean, taking yourself out of the band is one thing. But moving to Vegas to be in some hippie writing commune?” He snorts. “There have got to be better ways to deal with your writing block.”

“Here we go again,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Look, I know what you think, okay? You think that I just need to meet someone and then I’ll magically be able to write songs again. And I’m telling you, man. That won’t fix what’s broken with me.”

Cody shifts in his seat, looking out the window at the suburbs of Las Vegas. Everything here is new construction, all blending seamlessly with the desert. Once in a while, I see a bright blue flash of a pool in an open yard.

“Alright, man. I’m not trying to hassle you. It’s just… what will the band do without you?”

I blow out a breath, rubbing my palms against my jeans. “What good was I doing the band back in LA? What good is a songwriter that doesn’t write songs?”

Cody rolls his eyes. “I think you didn’t give yourself enough time. After a break up as dramatic as yours and Alex's, there are bound to be a lot of things that shift around. You just gotta… you know… roll with the punches or whatever for a while.”

I look down at my phone. The screen is silently navigating us toward a blue dot.

“Take a right up here.” I pull a face. “And just so you know, I did take time. It’s been six weeks since Alex and I broke up. I need to face facts: Alex might have been a toxic person, but hell if her presence didn’t make me a better writer.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Half the guys in the band were afraid of her. The other half cheated on you with her. She was a trash person, man.”

I let out a sigh. “I know. Take a left up here, Cody.”

He does as I ask, but he is clearly not very happy with the situation. “How long are you going to be out here for again?”

Reaching into my bag on the back seat, I unfurl the sheets of paper that I received, letting me know that I was chosen.

“Mmm… it says here that the program is four weeks long. At the end, the winner of the songwriter’s contest receives a big cash bonus and like a hundred and fifty hours of studio time. Which I plan to spend on the band…”

“Dude, that’s like… two albums!” Cody says.

“I know. See? I’m not crazy to be doing this. Even if it is way out here in the middle of nowhere.” I look down again. “It’s going to be on the next block, on our right side.”

He shifts in his seat again and sighs. “If you’re sure…”

Am I sure? Glancing out my window at the large McMansions we pass, I twist the papers in my hands again.

What the hell else am I supposed to do? I’m so creatively blocked. I actually found this contest online while I was looking for a songwriter’s retreat…

So at least this way, I will have the chance to earn some money and some recording hours, rather than lining someone else’s pocket. I get the chance to win something on my own, maybe prove to myself that I don’t need Alex or anyone else in my corner. And the studio that is putting on the contest just wins the rights to publish any music that comes out of this month in the desert.

Fair enough, especially if it works. Something has to change, one way or another, and it has to happen soon.

“Hey, I think this is the place,” Cody says with a nod.

I look where he’s nodding. A tall McMansion, twice as wide as the others. And draped across the weedy yard is a banner.

“WELCOME SING YOUR HEART OUT 2020 CONTESTANTS” it declares.

“I’d imagine you are right,” I say.

Cody pulls up to the curb, right behind a large black SUV. I look at him, my brows rising.

“Thanks for the ride, man.” I offer him a fist, and he taps it with his own fist.

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