Page 39 of Sing Your Heart Out

“You hush!” Dwayne says, looking offended. “No, I was just going to say that Dee has it in her head that we pair everyone with people that they haven’t been partners with before. So Sarah, you’ll be with Buckeye. Smith, you’ll be with Marco…”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Don’t you guys want me to produce more good songs? Because that is not the way.”

Dwayne lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Hey man. Talk to Dee. I’m just the messenger.”

Casting my gaze around, I nod to Mellie. “I haven’t been partnered with her yet. Put me with her. I’ll bet we can come up with something great.”

Mellie looks over, but Dwayne just shakes his head. “Sorry. The partners have been decided. Dee really wants you and Marco to work together. She said your angsty rock and his fiery Latin jams should combine into something new and great.” He pauses, looking thoughtful. “Like that song by Rob Thomas and Carlos Santana. That was a knockout for sure!”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Fine. But if it comes to blows, I will knock him the fuck out this time.”

Dwayne shrugs. Looking behind him to check that Marco isn’t there, he whispers. “I hate that guy as much as anybody does. You won’t even believe the stories I could tell about the fabled Marco…”

“Dwayne!” Dee calls.

He turns around, rolling his eyes, and sighs. “Coming, sis!”

He jogs off toward the foyer, leaving me to brood while I eat breakfast. If Marco screws this up today, I could easily be eliminated.

I can’t let that happen. So that means that I will have to be extra professional today when we’re working.

I spend three quarters of an hour waiting around for Marco to show his face downstairs. Then I grab my guitar and my notebooks, settling in the living room.

You can do this, I tell myself. This is the reason you came here. You wanted to songwriter all on your own...,

Sighing, I scan the feelings that I’ve had in the last day.

Hatred. Fear. Anger. All at the sight of Justin, whose face needed to be punched so badly that my fingers still itch to do it.

Love. Protectiveness. Completion. Those emotions are distinctly Sarah-related, I feel like.

What else?

If I’m honest, I feel a lot of insecurity about writing right now. Plus turmoil about the songwriter’s competition as a whole.

Thinking about Marco, I try to decide which one of the emotions that I’m feeling would be the best for him to work on.

A love song, I guess. Or not love exactly… but infatuation.

Come to think of it, I feel like Marco probably knows a thing or two about objectifying women…

Assuming that Marco can swing in and write a Latin beat to back my lyrics, I just need to focus on writing the words.

Groaning, I curl up on the couch with my notebook. What parts of women do I really want to glorify? I write things down, scribbling out bits and pieces.

Then I give up on that part, picking up the guitar. I have barely managed to play a chord when Marco comes strolling downstairs, yawning.

I scowl at him as he finds a jar of peanut butter and starts to eat spoonfuls straight out of the jar. He’s not wearing a shirt, just a pair of rumpled pajama bottoms.

He looks at me. “Where is everyone at?”

I grit my teeth. “Working. It was nice of you to join the party, by the way.”

He casts an evil eye toward me. “And why should you care when I get up?”

I spread my arms out along the back of the couch, cocking my head. “We’re supposed to be partners today.”

“Hah!” he chortles. “That is funny. Dee says I do not have to work with anybody.”

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