Page 5 of Playing With My Heart Strings

dusty

Ripping Off The Voice

“Okay, so here’s how this is going to work…” A producer explains the recording process to me as we walk down the tunnel to the area we’ll be filming in.

The space has the appearance of an auditorium, with seats arranged in a semi-circle around the stage. However, a temporary wall divides the stage down the middle, so you can’t see the other side. It gives off a similar atmosphere to The Dating Game or Love is Blind .

“You’ll sit on one side of the wall, and the singers will be on the other. You won’t be able to see the women, just hear their voices.”

“So you’re ripping off The Voice ?” I deadpan as we walk onto the stage. All that’s missing is a turning chair.

The producer starts sputtering over his words. “W-well…no. We’re just taking inspiration from it, Mr. Wilder.”

“I see. What exactly am I supposed to be doing?”

“Well, Mr. Wilder, we have thirty women here that will perform for you. You’ll hear all of them, then at the end, you’ll choose nine of them to compete for the spot as your music partner,” he explains as we head toward the stage.

“Why nine? I thought I was choosing ten?” I ask, confused.

“Er, well, technically there are going to be ten women competing. But one has already been preselected.” He fidgets with the sleeves of his shirt like he’s hiding something.

“And how come I don’t get to hear her sing? Shouldn’t I be the judge of whether she’s good enough? After all, it is my career that we’re talking about. Right…” I look at his name tag. “Ezra?”

“I-I mean?—”

Before he can continue stammering like an idiot who doesn’t know how to do his job, the executive producer interrupts. “Ezra, I’ll take over from here, thanks.” She dismisses him, and relief flashes across his face.

“Y-yes, ma’am.” He practically runs off stage.

The executive producer turns to me once he’s gone.

I hadn’t bothered to ask her name, which was probably rude of me, but I also consider it rude to have been forced into this situation in the first place.

Besides, that first day of interviews was so hectic, I never had the opportunity to get anyone’s name besides Daniella.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Here, let’s take a seat and talk.” She gestures to the stools on stage.

I sit, and she follows suit. She’s still wearing the god-awful lipstick that makes her look more clownish than anything and also dons a matching bloodred pantsuit.

“I apologize, but I don’t believe I ever got your name.” I reach out my hand to shake hers, which she takes. Her handshake is firm. Much firmer than I expected, but I suppose when you work in this industry, commanding attention is a must.

“Colette St. James. I’m the executive producer of the show. Rob never bothered to tell you who I am, I’m gathering,” she scoffs, and I get the impression she’s not a fan of Rob.

Interesting. Maybe I can use this to my advantage.

“No, ma’am, he did not. I assure you, I’m…not like Rob Acerra. He’s a bit?—”

“Callous? Oh, I know,” she cuts me off. “Anyway, enough about Rob. What questions do you have?”

How about what the fuck I’m supposed to do? And the girl who was “preselected?” What the fuck does that mean?

“I—” I try to get a word out, but she immediately starts talking over me.

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll give you the rundown of everything that’s going to happen, and then we can go from there.

” Colette proceeds to tell me the exact same thing Ezra told me about there being thirty women to listen to— How many minutes is thirty songs?

— and that I’ll narrow it down to nine, which solidifies the fact that someone was preselected.

She does not allow me to ask any questions.

“Wait, Colette—” I call out to her, but she’s already gone, leaving me to marinate in my confusion.

“Welcome to Heart Strings , the brand new reality show brought to you by Sparks Studio Productions in partnership with Ace High Entertainment. I’m your host, Jarrod Stone.”

I stand backstage with my arms crossed over my chest. All of this is so ridiculous.

“Let’s meet the star of the show, folks. He’s country music’s rising star, and he’s looking for a partner, in music and life…”

God, that’s so bad.

“Please welcome Dusty Wilder!” Jarrod gestures toward the side of the stage, and I plaster on a fake smile, waving as I walk out on stage.

“Pleasure to be here, Jarrod, thank you.” I tip my hat to the camera after shaking his hand.

“So, Dusty, the fans are dying to know. Why’d you come on Heart Strings ? And how is a guy like you, a successful musician and heartthrob, still single?” Jarrod looks at me expectantly.

Just as you rehearsed, Wilder. Don’t fuck this up. Remember what Daniella said.

“Well, Jarrod, like you said, I’m looking for a music partner. Someone to record an album and go on tour with. In regard to your other question, I guess I’ve just been waiting for the right one to come along.” I look off stage to see Daniella giving me a thumbs-up.

“Well, buddy, I hope we can find you just that. Best of luck to you.” He pats me on the shoulder. “All right, folks, the moment you’ve been waiting for. Let’s bring out our first musician!”

The first few singers feel like a fever dream. One of them, Jacky or Jordan or something, was good? But shit, this is more difficult than I thought it would be.

Footsteps approach on the other side of the barrier as the next woman sets up to perform.

Here we go again. We’re filming half today and half tomorrow, so at least I won’t have to listen to thirty people in a row. Truthfully, I’m more curious about the girl who was apparently good enough to make it past the auditions with me.

“Hi, I’m Aspen Barlowe,” the girl on the other side of the wall introduces herself, and any thoughts I had about the mystery woman disappear when I hear her smooth, melodic voice.

Once she starts singing, I’m absolutely captivated. Her alto voice has an edge to it. It isn’t quite gravelly, but it isn’t like her delicate speaking voice either. No, her singing voice has power. Soul . I make a mental note to keep her around.

The song doesn’t last nearly long enough for my liking. When someone can sing in such a way that makes you feel , that’s how you know they’re good. And that’s exactly what listening to Aspen Barlowe was like.

Before I know it, fifteen singers have performed, and the day is over. There are a few singers who I know right away won’t make it through the final cut and a few more who I want to keep.

Alex, my producer for the day, pulls me aside the moment I step off the stage. “Dusty, let’s talk about who you’re liking.”

We walk to a lounge area and sit down to debrief. Alex goes through the list of the women who performed today. Honestly, a lot of them weren’t memorable enough, but the ones that I do remember stick out to me.

I list off the names of the girls I know I want to keep. “I know I liked Aspen and Sage.”

“That’s great, Dusty. There will still be fifteen more performances tomorrow, but we’ve got at least two of the nine picked, so that’s a great start.”

Back at the hotel, I call my manager Craig.

He’s been like a father to me all of these years.

He took me on when I was an eighteen-year-old kid trying to make it in a cutthroat industry and has stayed through everything.

There have been plenty of times when I wanted to quit and Craig talked me down from the ledge.

“Hello?” He answers on the second ring. “Dusty, how’s it going?” His voice washes over me, bringing me comfort I didn’t know I needed today.

“Everything’s going great, actually,” I admit. “The first day on the set was rough. I didn’t know how to answer their questions.”

Craig laughs. He knows how terrible I am at interviews. It’s been the one thing that hasn’t changed in eleven years.

“Today went a lot better, though. The first fifteen women performed, and there were some really impressive singers. This process might actually work.” I pause as I catch myself being optimistic about this show.

“Wow, only one day on the set, and they’ve already got your mind changed on this whole reality TV thing, huh?” he teases.

I roll my eyes, and all the while he’s still chuckling. “If this is what it takes to keep my career on the rise, I’ll do it, Craig. You know this.”

“I know, Dusty. And I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way since you rolled into Nashville that first day.” If I’m not mistaken, Craig sniffs on the end of the other line.

Is he crying?

Craig has always been the more emotional one of the two of us. I know it’s just because at the end of the day, all he wants is for me to succeed. I owe him a lot, if not everything, for what he’s done to get me where I am today.