Page 57 of Spark
RUBY
“ W ho will take home the crown tonight?” Sunshine Vaughn booms into the camera in front of her. “Will it be Chase or Roe? That’s what we’re here to find out!”
We’re almost midway through the live taping of the bloated finale episode, and Sunshine hasn’t stopped shamelessly stretching things out between every chat segment and musical performance.
True to form, Sunshine adds, “But first, let’s watch this video about the long and winding road our two talented finalists have traveled to become the last contestants standing.”
The lights in the studio dim, and the video begins on the greenroom monitor we’re all watching on, at which point, all of us exchange eyerolls.
All members of Fugitive Summer are sitting in here in this greenroom, other than Savage.
Our swaggy front man is currently awaiting his imminent performance with his wife in the wings somewhere, while the rest of us were told to wait here for our cue to perform “Spark,” later in show, immediately after Cooper’s band performs “Don’t Call Me. ”
Where is Cooper now? I have no idea. After our initial chat segment with Sunshine to kick off the show, he was ushered away in the opposite direction from Kendrick and me, and I haven’t seen him since.
“Excuse me,” Kendrick says to a PA standing by the door of the greenroom. “Savage and Laila are performing next, right?”
The PA nods. “Right after this video ends.”
Kendrick flashes me a pointed look. One that says, “Let’s make a break for it, baby,” and I nod to convey my readiness to execute our plan.
Yes, we’re supposed to stay here to await our band’s performance, but Kendrick and I both feel too excited about what Savage and Laila are about to do to witness it on a teeny monitor in a greenroom.
Instead, we both want to witness our best friends making their once-in-a-lifetime announcement, live and in the flesh, from the wings.
“Excuse me again,” Kendrick says to the same PA. “Could you please find me some Tums or something like that? My stomach feels a bit funny. Nerves, I guess.”
“Oh dear. Of course. I’ll be right back with that.” And off she goes, like an innocent lamb to slaughter.
“We’ll be right back, fellas,” Kendrick drawls to Titus and Kai, as he pulls me off the couch by my hand. “We’re gonna watch Savage and Laila’s performance from the wings.”
“Godspeed,” Kai says with a yawn, as Titus grunts in reply while scrolling on his phone.
Those two only know that Savage and Laila are performing a duet of Laila’s hit song, “Savage Love,” for the first time, ever. Which, apparently, they both think is a cool enough first to inspire our prison break.
Our hands joined, Kendrick and I sneak out of the greenroom and down a short hallway toward the stage.
And just as we get settled into a perfect, covert spot with a clear view of the performance area, Sunshine Vaughn enthusiastically flings her arm to the side and bellows, “It’s Savage and Laila, everyone, performing a duet of Laila’s hit song, ‘Savage Love,’ for the very first time! Happy birthday, Mr. Savage!”
As the studio audience applauds and cheers, a spotlight illuminates Savage and Laila on the other side of the stage from Sunshine, but close enough to our hiding spot that we can see every micro-facial expression of the pair.
Laila’s seated at a baby grand in a flowing ballgown, her blonde hair magnificently piled atop her head, and Savage is standing next to Laila’s piano with his acoustic guitar, and both husband and wife are gazing at each other lovingly.
“Happy birthday, baby,”Laila coos into her microphone, right before he launches into singing the first, familiar verse of her hit song:
One for the money
Two for the show
Three cuz you’re so good givin’ Os
Ooooooooooh
Four for the cameras
Five for the fame
No catchin’ feelings, only a game
Ooooooooooh
But then six came along when we had our first kiss
Six made me swoon, yell out “I call dibs!”
Six watched you sleep, whispered, “I want this.”
Six held you tight in a white-knuckled grip
Oooooooooo h
And now I’ve got a savage love for you
I’ve lost count of all the ways you’ve made me a slave to you
There’s no doubt my love is here to stay; I’m addicted to you
I’ve got a savage love for you, infinite and everlasting
Six hit the road, now it’s long gone
Seven came along, now you’re second to none
Ooooooooooh
Cameras are off and our love remains
Eight, nine, and ten , let’s have a baby
Kendrick and I look excitedly at each other.
Our friends told us they were planning to announce their pregnancy in some way during their performance, but they wouldn’t tell us exactly how.
Well, there it was. That last line was supposed to be “Eight, nine, and ten, our love never fades .” And based on the over-the-top reaction of the audience, every person in this soundstage is well aware of the lyric change and its obvious implication.
With huge smiles on their faces, Savage and Laila continue with their song:
Fake became real and want became need
Can’t live without you, I need you to breathe
You’re swimming in my bloodstream, enmeshed in my heart
I dream about you, in pain when we part
Oooooooooo h
And now I’ve got a savage love for you
I’ve lost count of all the ways you’ve made me a slave to you
There’s no doubt my love is here to stay; I’m addicted to you
I’ve got a savage love for you
Infinite and everlasting
Take my heart, take my soul,
Take my blood, bones, and flesh
Take the air from my lungs, every pound, every inch
Take it all, every ounce, I give everything
Savage love, let’s have a baby
They did it again! And this time, the crowd is going even more crazy than before, right along with Kendrick and me.
When the song reaches its last note, Laila gleefully slides off her piano bench and rises to accept her husband’s offered hug and kiss.
But before she falls into Savage’s waiting arms, Laila pointedly presses her flowing gown tightly against her growing midsection, revealing the lovely baby bump that’s recently sprouted there—and all of it with a mischievous look on her beautiful face that says, “Gosh, what do we have here?”
Of course, the crowd goes wild and crazy in reaction. So much so, I’m surprised their unhinged energy isn’t physically blowing the roof off the place.
Laila’s exciting pregnancy reveal completed, she accepts Savage’s giddy embrace and kiss. The pair waves to their adoring live audience, and then to the cameras trained on them, and their spotlight slowly fades to black.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Savage!” Sunshine sings out, sounding genuinely delighted.
“Happy birthday to Mr. Savage, indeed! My goodness!” She fans herself.
“That was a surprise to me, too, folks. How wonderful!” Laughing, she beams at the camera.
“Let’s take a quick commercial break, so we can scream and cry with our besties about this amazing news.
And when we come back, Jon Stapleton will be here to perform one of his greatest country hits with ten of your favorite contestants from the season! ”
“There you are,” an annoyed voice whisper-shouts.
It’s the PA Kendrick duped earlier, standing next to us with a roll of antacids in her hand and a giant “fuck you, Kendrick” on her face.
Scowling dramatically, she pushes a button on her headset.
“Yeah, I found them. I’ll take them back there now.
” She holds up the roll of antacids. “I’m assuming you don’t actually need these? ”
“Nope. Not at all. Sorry.”
The PA rolls her eyes. “Follow me, please.”
“It was all Ruby’s idea,” Kendrick jokes, making me swat his arm and giggle, and the PA turns around and hushes us.
“Sorry,” we whisper at the same time. But when our eyes meet, we crack up again, which only pisses off the PA even more.
I can’t say I blame the woman. From what the director told us in rehearsal earlier today, these live tapings are a stressful juggling act for the crew, since they’re shot precisely as the show will air, with no opportunity for edits or re-dos.
Which means, in theory, everyone needs to follow instructions to a T—and at least stay put in greenrooms, when told to do that.
But oh well. I don’t regret what Kendrick and I did for second.
It would have been a crying shame for us to miss out. Fuck the show.
We return to our holding cell, where we’re surprised to discover Titus and Kai aren’t alone in the room any longer, as before.
Now, they’ve been joined in waiting by none other than Cooper and his two bandmates from Alexa Play Music.
Indeed, Titus and Kai seem to be in the midst of a calm conversation with all of them—the kind they used to have when APM opened for us a few years ago.
“They made us wait in here,” Cooper blurts at his first sight of Kendrick striding into the room. “Don’t come at me, bro.”
Cooper’s bandmates get up and greet us warmly, while Cooper hangs back in his seat.
Suddenly, Kendrick’s words from a while back pop into my head: You gaslit the poor guy! And, suddenly, I can’t shake them. I didn’t mean to do that to Cooper. But I did. Just like Kendrick said.
I release Kendrick’s hand and head over to Cooper.
“Can we talk for a minute? Maybe over there?”
I gesture toward a large snack table in the corner, and Cooper looks wary.
“They’re gonna come get my band any minute now for our performance.”
“This will only take a minute, Coop.”
This time, Cooper looks at Kendrick, like he’s trying to gauge if saying yes will get him punched.
“Don’t worry about him,” I say. “He’s the one who said the thing that made me want to apologize to you.”
That gets Cooper’s undivided attention. “ Apologize ?” He blinks rapidly, like he can’t fully process my words. “To me? For what?”
“Come talk to me in private and find out.”
“Is this a trick?”
Rolling my eyes, I call over to Kendrick. “I’m gonna talk to Cooper in the corner over there. Will that elicit any kind of reaction from you, babe?”
“None whatsoever.” With that, Kendrick blandly returns to his conversation with Cooper’s bass player, Scottie.
“Okay,” Cooper mutters. With an exhale, he gets up and follows me into the corner I’ve gestured to, and when we get to our destination, I get right to the point.
“Kendrick made me realize,” I take a deep breath, “I gaslit you, Cooper. It wasn’t intentional, and I certainly didn’t realize that’s what I was doing at the time. But looking back, Kendrick is right: that’s what I did, and I’m sorry about that.”
Cooper looks stunned. “You gaslit me about what?”
I explain what I mean, wrapping up with, “So, you weren’t as paranoid and delusional as I kept insisting.
Yes, you were paranoid about me cheating.
I didn’t do that, I swear. But looking back, I had feelings for Kendrick that I wasn’t even consciously aware of while I was dating you.
I gave you plenty of reasons to feel insecure and jealous about my friendship with Kendrick, even though I kept telling you that was crazy talk.
That he was like a brother to me. I’m sorry you went through that, thanks to my cluelessness about my own feelings.
I didn’t mean to do it to you, but, obviously, I did, and I’m sorry. ”
“I . . . Wow.” Cooper scratches his arm, looking dazed and surprised. “Thank you for saying all that, Ruby.”
“You deserve to know the truth. You’re the villain in this story, to be clear.” I smile. “But maybe you’re not quite as big a villain as I made you out to be in my head.”
He chuckles. “Thanks. That means a lot. Back at you.” He presses his lips together. “So, does that mean we’re now letting bygones be bygones?”
I shrug. “Sure. You’re an artist. You should be allowed to express yourself honestly in your art.” I narrow my eyes. “Would I have preferred you didn’t use my actual name in your lyrics, you little prick? Yes. But such is life. Such is art.”
Cooper laughs. “Yeah, well, I would have preferred my girlfriend didn’t moan another guy’s name while sleeping next to me in bed, so . . . ”
“I’ve apologized, Cooper. Let’s not beat a dead horse here, or I might feel compelled to retract everything I’ve said.”
Miraculously, we’re both able to share a smile about the whole thing.
Cooper’s smile looks rueful to me. Tinged with sadness, unlike mine.
But you know what? I’ll take it. I glance over at Kendrick across the room.
Not surprisingly, he’s watching Cooper and me intently.
Which means his blasé, nonchalant reaction from earlier was an act, God bless him.
I flash him a thumbs-up, and my boyfriend winks and goes back to his conversation.
“Is Kendrick furious he’s in the song?” Cooper whispers. “Do I need to avoid him for the rest of my life, or maybe bring bodyguards with me whenever we’re going to be at the same place?”
“Nah, you’re good. My man’s a lover, not a fighter.”
“My man,” he mutters. “No need to rub it in, Ruby.”
“I just meant we’re both ready to move on. You’ll be fine.”
Cooper cocks his head. “So, I can stop worrying the song you’re about to debut tonight is gonna trash me?”
During rehearsal earlier today, we didn’t perform “Spark” at our soundcheck. We performed “Hate Sex High,” specifically to keep the live debut of our new single under wraps.
“I didn’t say that,” I say coyly. “You’ll just have to wait to find out, like everyone else.”
A PA pokes his head into the room and calls out, “APM! You’re up. Come with me.”
“Break a leg,” I murmur. Cooper tosses me a snarky look as he walks away, like he’s wondering if I’m wishing him luck or being literal.
It’s a little bit of both, if I’m being honest. Yes, I’ve apologized.
And, yes, I’m now putting him soundly in my rearview mirror.
But I can’t deny a part of me hopes Cooper will forget his lyrics or sing off-key during his imminent performance .
. . or even better, fall and break a leg.
Or at least sprain an ankle or toe or otherwise suffer some indignity or slight injury as one final, karmic consequence for him so frequently being a total and complete dick.
[ Click here to listen to Savage and Laila’s duet of “Savage Love” ]