Page 49 of Sing Your Heart Out

“Mellie? How about you go next,” Dee says, pointing at Dwayne. “Cue up her tracks.”

I listen a little more this time, especially since we share two of our tracks. Mellie’s rambling, rough, boot heel kicking kind of country is just plain fun to listen to. If I had to choose between Mellie and Buckeye, there would be no choice at all.

I smile at her. She gives me a little grin, tipping her imaginary hat at the conclusion of her songs.

“Great! That was great.” Dee smiles at all of us. “Smith, you’re the next one we are going to put on the spot.”

Smith nods, glancing at me once and then looking away. He’s tensed all over, arms crossed, gripping his own elbows. His expression is just this side of dour.

He nods to Dee. Dwayne hits play and suddenly I hear my own voice, soon to be joined by Smith’s. I flinch even though I should’ve known it was coming.

I can’t help but look at Smith, who seems like he would rather be literally any other place right now than here.

The second song plays, one where Smith is thankfully solo this time. It’s alternative rock and it has a punchy beat. My toes would be tapping if I weren’t so angry with Smith right now.

Biting my lip, I make it through the rest of Smith’s stuff, even though I want to crawl under a rock and die. When his songs are through I don’t clap.

I don’t know why exactly, but I can’t bring myself to laud him right this second.

“That leaves you, Sarah.” Dee sighs. “We have already heard not one, not two, but three songs featuring you. That’s a hell of a performance.”

Blushing to the roots of my hair, I bow my head. “Thank you, Dee.”

“Dwayne, could you play Little Miss Sarah’s last song, darlin’?”

“Of course, sweet pea,” Dwayne says, brandishing the CD. “Here we go…”

I have to close my eyes I’m so nervous. I hear myself playing guitar. I wince when I hear myself sing.

How in the world was I a lounge singer for so tricking long? Do people not know what I sound like? A dying cat or something.

The wait in interminable, but eventually the song is over. Mellie and Buckeye start applauding, Mellie grinning. Smith claps for a few beats too.

My heart is racing, thundering so loudly in my ears that I can’t even hear anything at all.

“Okay,” Dee says, applauding us all. “You all did so well. Honestly, if I could give each of you the prize, I’d probably do it. Unfortunately my bosses at Heartbreak Records don’t care a whit what I think about that.” She smiles at us.

“Do you all want our notes on the overall things that we took into consideration?” Dwayne asks, looking around the room. “Or should we just commence with the announcing.”

“Just summarize for us,” Smith rumbles.

I look at him, a little shocked at finally hearing his voice. While I’m staring dumbly at Smith, Dee clears her throat.

“Okay. Buckeye, your music was catchy, if not a little bit derivative of stuff we’ve heard time and again from well established artists. Luckily, this didn’t really count against you. It carried you all the way here. You finished in fourth place.”

We all applaud. Buckeye tears up and stands up, leaving the room quickly.

Dwayne continues from where Dee left off. “Sarah, your voice was truly unique. You have the innate ability to build a song from scratch. Not only that, but it is meaningful and super listenable. You are a wonderful performer to boot. The only reason you are getting third place is because we both felt like with a couple more years of songwriting under your belt, you will be unstoppable.”

Tears instantly fill my eyes. I nod, not even fully understanding what he said.

I got third?

And I got dumped?

Now I’ll return to LA with nothing at all. Talk about a one two punch, straight to the heart and gut.

“Okay… Smith! You are in second place. We think you really have something to say and your style is very in vogue right now. The only reason you didn’t win is Mellie is just a teeny tiny bit more commercial.”

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