Page 54 of Playing With My Heart Strings

dusty

Unpopular Choice

We have a sold-out arena tonight. A little under fifteen thousand people will be in attendance to watch me make one of the most important decisions of my career, not to mention the millions of people at home.

I didn’t watch the opening song. Seeing Baylor around the hotel and at rehearsal was hard enough, but watching her sing is like having my heart ripped out and stomped on.

I know I’ll have to watch her solo tonight, but I want to prolong this sense of security as long as possible. I just know once I hear her sing alone on stage, all the defenses I built up during this week apart from her will break down. I need to have a clear head to make my choice.

The TV in my makeshift dressing room displays Jarrod talking on stage, which means I’ll be going on soon. Adjusting my pearl snap shirt one last time, I open the door to a wide-eyed Baylor.

“Dusty…” she whispers.

If I don’t walk away, I’ll kiss her. I’ll pull her in and miss my cue. So, I do what Dusty Wilder, the famous country singer, would do and brush past her.

I wish I could tell her I’m sorry. That I didn’t have a choice in whether I got to see her this week. That the producers took my hesitance as definiteness and made the final decision on dates for me.

But she’s not running after me either.

Fear that she’s accepted everything courses through my veins, but I push it down as I walk down the tunnel leading to the stage.

The show must go on.

My drummer starts playing a beat and Charlie and the other guitarists start playing the riff of the first song on the setlist as the stage lights begin flashing like a strobe.

Microphone in hand, I run out on stage, and the crowd goes absolutely insane .

Our set opener is one of my most popular songs, because it gets everyone in the audience involved.

Girls in the front row scream my name, trying to get me to look at them, and men raise their beer bottles.

Everyone is singing along to the lyrics, and even if they aren’t ones that I wrote myself, it still feels really damn good.

By the time the first song ends, my forehead is slick with sweat.

I put the microphone into the stand and walk back to the riser where the drums are to grab my bottle of water.

I take a long, slow drink, water running down the side of my mouth, before leaning up to the microphone and shouting, “Howdy, Knoxville, how are you feeling tonight?”

When the roar of the crowd dies down again, I grab my guitar from the rack and throw the strap over my shoulder.

“We’ve got a full show for you tonight, so kick back and relax…or don’t,” I add with a wink. “This one’s called ‘Backroad Baby.’”

Knoxville kept up the energy tonight, that’s for sure. After I introduce my band, finish the last song, and we all exit the stage, the fans chant for three minutes for an encore. And I give them what they want, mostly to avoid the part of the night I’m dreading the most.

After the encore, each of the remaining women will perform one song, then the elimination will take place.

The producers all expect me to send Baylor home tonight.

They didn’t have to explicitly say it for me to know.

I’m also confident I’ll get an earful from Rob Acerra if I choose her.

He’ll say she’s not fit for the label. Choosing her would give Ace High Entertainment a bad reputation, and I’d be risking my career.

But for love? For love, I’ll risk a whole lot more.

From the wings, I watch as Baylor glides onstage.

She was wearing jeans for the opening performance, but now she’s got on a black long-sleeved dress that falls to her ankles, except for the slits that cut up to her hips.

The tulle gives the illusion that she’s floating, the smoke machine only adding to the imagery.

She looks like a star .

I didn’t watch much of her rehearsal, but I do know she wasn’t planning to play the guitar tonight. So when she grabs one and Charlie places two stools in front of the microphone stand, I narrow my eyes.

Baylor adjusts the stand to her liking and takes a seat, crossing her legs.

“Knoxville, I hope you’re having a great time tonight,” she addresses the crowd.

“I’m going a little bit off script. My original plan was to sing an upbeat, happy love song, but during our rehearsals and soundchecks, I couldn’t help but feel like my heart wasn’t in it. ”

A hush falls over the crowd.

“Last week, a secret I’ve been keeping for the last eight weeks was revealed, and it blindsided us all.

I won’t lie to you. When I first joined the show, it wasn’t for the reasons you all thought.

You might remember the video that went live on the Heart Strings social media a week before the auditions aired. That was me.”

A few gasps can be heard from the front row, but it doesn’t seem to phase her.

“My responsibility with Sparks Studio Productions was to run the social media accounts. Mistakes were made, and I accepted the consequences: starring on the show. But somewhere between that blurry video and now, it became less about saving my job and more about the music. About a dream I’ve had since I was young that I’ve been too afraid to chase out of the fear of what people will think of me. ”

Charlie begins strumming soft chords, adding a soft ambience to her monologue.

“But I realized…” She pauses. “Even though the things I wanted out of the show became clearer to me, I was still living in a lie. And last week, I hurt someone I really care about.” She looks to the wings where I’m standing then back to the fans.

“So, tonight, we’re doing something different. This week, I’ll admit I was quiet. I was scared of what the future holds for me.” She looks back at me. “But now I’m ready to fight. This is an original I wrote just last night. Knoxville, I hope you like it.”

I don’t know if the rest of my band was looped into this change, because everyone but Charlie looks mildly confused. Yet, none of them bat an eye when Baylor starts strumming a familiar chord progression.

It’s the same chord progression of the song I showed her.

The only difference is the words.

With every moment, every passing glance.

I felt the spark between us and I took a chance.

I learned who you are and ignited this dream inside of me.

Don’t want to lose this love because it makes me feel so free.

The chords shift during the second verse, and as though they’ve caught on to the tone of the song, the band starts to back her up.

The moon to the tides, you keep pulling me in

You’re the glue that puts me back together again.

And like my favorite song, I can’t get you out of my head.

Something draws me to you, there’s an invisible thread.

When she starts the bridge, phone flashlights start popping up in the arena one by one until the crowd is a sea of lights swaying back and forth. Something most artists can only dream of happening.

I’ve been told saying goodbye is the hardest thing to do.

But I never really believed it until I met you.

Even if we end up miles apart, you’ll always be there like a tattoo on my heart.

Her song ends on a haunting note, and the audience wastes no time to erupt into whistles, claps, and cheers. Like they’re trying to send me a message.

“Thank you, Knoxville.” She waves as she exits the stage.

“How about those performances?” Jarrod gets the crowd going again. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your evening, but we’re not quite done yet. We’ve got one last thing to do tonight and that’s an elimination. Dusty, my man, come stand next to me.”

I walk to the spot next to Jarrod. I’m standing face-to-face with three women who I deeply respect. But only one of them stands out as someone who I could truly love.

“You’ve got a big decision to make, my friend. Who is moving on to the finale?”

You could cut the tension in the arena with a knife. The arena that once teemed with energy and a roaring crowd falls silent, eagerly waiting for my decision.

“The first woman who I want to move on is…Valerie,” I say with as much confidence that I can muster.

Valerie smiles. Since the beginning, she’s been someone I know the label would want me to choose. And I can see a partnership with her working out. She’s confident, but also kind. And her voice is powerful. She was an obvious choice, and the nods and smiles from the audience tells me they agree.

Katherine and Baylor look at each other.

Baylor has now been in this situation for two weeks in a row.

And it’s been a trend this season that anyone who’s been in the bottom two in consecutive weeks has been sent home during live voting.

But this time, it’s my decision and mine alone. Not the viewers’.

Both Katherine and Baylor would be amazing music partners. Katherine has proven time and time again that she’s here for me. Not for a job, not to simply advance her career. But Katherine doesn’t stir my heart the way Baylor does.

Baylor makes me want to be better. Not only for myself but for my family, my fans. She may have come into this experience with motivations that had nothing to do with me, but I can’t deny the connection and the chemistry we have.

And she’s still here, isn’t she? If she truly was here just to save her job, wouldn’t she have left after Aspen revealed the truth? Why would she have continued to fight for me? For us?

I hope I’m making the right decision.

“Baylor.”

Both the crowd and crew backstage let out a collective gasp. I think the producers are just as shocked as the viewers seem to be. No one saw this choice coming, not even Baylor nor Katherine. It’s evident by the looks on their faces.

I walk over to Katherine and pull her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry,” I murmur into her hair.

“I get it, Dusty. It’s okay. I wish nothing but the best for you,” she tells me. Looking into her eyes, I know it’s genuine.