Rock Idol (Reality With a Twist Series) (9 page)

Ember
frowned. Try as she might, she couldn’t like this contestant and comments like
that didn’t help. Neither did the fact that Hillary was wearing the same old
torn up jeans and muscle tee she’d worn at the initial meet and greet. Even her
haircut was the same spiky mess it had been the very first show.

“Hillary,
please don’t tell me that that is the best wardrobe could do for you?” Ember
asked her. She considered her words a gentle prodding, but could see from the
derisive flash of anger in the woman’s eyes that Hillary viewed them as a full
out assault.

“Unlike
some
people, I am not going to sell out who I am just to try and buy a
few votes with some makeup and some cleavage.”

Ember
wasn’t sure if Hillary was referring to her career as a teen idol or to the
other contestants, but Rick certainly was. His eyes flashed with anger as he
stepped between Ember and the other contestant. “Back off, Hillary! You have no
call to speak to Ember that way. She’s already accomplished everything we’re
setting out to do here and then some.”

Hillary
snorted. “Maybe she’s done everything
you’re
setting out to do, Rick,
but I aspire to more than crashing and burning in a haze of sex and drugs.”

Ember
felt a flash of rage and barely resisted lashing out at the woman. Zach took a
step back from the group, clearly shocked at what the woman had said.

Rick,
however, was not going to stay quiet. “That’s enough! She’s one of the judges.
Show some respect or—”

“Rick!”
Ember cut in. She had to step around him so that she could confront Hillary
without Rick’s body between them. She could only imagine how it must look to
the others to have Rick playing knight-in-shining-armor for her. “Please, stop.
There’s no need to make a scene.”

Unfortunately,
it was too late for that. Everyone was watching the back and forth, including
Fox Atwood. Ember had to do something to shape this argument or it could spill
out and make them all look bad. Unfortunately, Rick was still maneuvering to
keep himself between the two women.

“Hillary,
I really get where you’re coming from,” Ember told her, hoping she was pitching
her voice correctly. She didn’t want to sound condescending. This was a moment
for her to play mentor with the younger contestants. Fox would definitely like
that. “You don’t like the glitz and the glamour. You think the cinematic parts
of our profession are cheap frills—distractions from the music that is the core
of what we do. I’ll bet you see yourself as the new Bob Dillon or Sinead
O’Connor.”

From
the stubborn set of Hillary’s jaw, it was quite obvious to Ember that that was
exactly how Hillary Tempest viewed herself.

“But
Hillary, Sinead, and Dillon made it because of their lyrics. They got peoples’
brains spinning in a way that created its own show without lights and sexy
costumes and all the special effects that make rock shows so much fun. Maybe
you can do that someday too. I don’t know. I’ve never heard you sing one of
your own songs. But on this show, it doesn’t matter if your songs are going to
win Grammies one day. Here we judge you on your performance singing other
peoples’ music. Here we judge you on your ability to reach out and touch the
audience. And if you can’t learn to do that better than you are right now,
you’re almost certain to go home.”

Fawn
had entered the room while Ember was talking and now she stepped up beside
Hillary to offer her two cents. “Maybe that’s how
you
judge people,
Ember, but Mitch and I are more concerned with the quality of our contestants’
vocals.
 
This is a
talent
competition, after all.”

If
Fawn had expected Hillary’s gratitude for defending her, she was quickly
disappointed. “As if your opinion could matter to anyone,” Hillary said, almost
spitting her derision at Fawn. “You’re even worse than Ember. You like
everyone!”
She paused for a moment and reconsidered her words with a jerk of her thumb at
Rick. “Except him, of course. I guess you can get it right once in a while.”

Fawn
began to shake with fury. “You can’t speak to me—”

“That’s
enough everyone!” Fox Atwood announced. He did not look happy at the tension
bubbling up behind the scenes of his flagship show. “Let’s put on our smiles
and get this photo shoot done.”

Fawn
couldn’t let it go. “But she just—”

“I
don’t want to hear it!” Fox snapped. “If you’d been here when you were supposed
to be, we’d already be half way through the shooting.”

Fox’s
estimate was so far out of bounds with reality that Ember couldn’t even term it
wishful thinking, not that she minded him giving Fawn a hard time after all of
the nonsense the woman subjected her to last week. Any enjoyment Ember might
have felt, however, was instantly muted by the superior smirk twisting
Hillary’s face. The contestant sauntered off across the room as if she thought
that Fox had just come to her defense, rather than simply express the natural
impatience exhibited by any successful producer when he was forced to stand
around getting nothing done.

Rick
surprised her by slipping his arm into hers and escorting her to the photo set.
“Hey, Mr. Atwood,” Rick called out. “Do you think when the group photos are
finished we could get some individual shots with the judges?”

Fox
looked surprised by the question and Ember hoped her own chagrin was not
showing on her face. What did Rick think he was doing?

Mitch
Daniels could never let the opportunity to plant a stinger slip past. “Is that
all
of the judges you want a picture with, Rick? Or just your favorite?”

Rick
affected to look surprised by the question. “Just my favorite, Mitch!”
Laughing, he pulled his arm free of Ember’s, ran over to Mitch, and threw his
arms around him. “You know how I’ll want to remember our special time together
forever.” He attempted, but not too forcefully, to plant a big sloppy kiss on
Mitch’s cheek, but the judge successfully ducked away and eluded him.

“Watch
the hair!” Mitch tried to growl his answer, but that was difficult because he
was laughing.

So
was everyone else in the room. Even Hillary Tempest found a smile.

Rick
stopped goofing off. “Seriously, Mr. Atwood, Mitch, Ember and Fawn have become
the most important people in our lives these last few weeks. I’d love to have
pictures with all of them.”

There
was a general chorus of agreement from the rest of the contestants.

Gina
Hartley also joined her voice to the chorus. “I’m sure our publicist wouldn’t
mind having the extra photos for promotional purposes.”

Fox
gave a decisive nod, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. “I don’t see why
not, so long as it doesn’t interfere with our schedule tonight.”

Rick
flashed his cocky smile and caught Ember’s eye, obviously very pleased with
himself.

 
“Don’t let Hillary get to you,” Rick whispered
into Ember’s ear as he nonchalantly placed his hand on her waist where no one
else could notice it.

He
and the other male contestants were standing behind the three judges while the
female contestants were sitting or kneeling in the front row before the camera.
“First she rips you down, then she builds you up. Maybe our little Tempest has
a secret desire to leave show business and become a Marine Corps drill
instructor.”

Ember
couldn’t help it. The comment was so completely unexpected that a burst of
laughter escaped her mouth just as the camera started flashing.

“Ember!”
Fox started to reprimand her from the sidelines.

“That’s
quite all right, Mr. Atwood,” the photographer, Leon Skursky, cut him off. “I
can use that one.”

Gina
Hartley also came to Ember’s defense. “Leon’s
right, Mr. Atwood. The people love to see candid shots behind the scenes. Ember
and Rick laughing together during the shoot will make a great picture.”

Fawn
turned and glared at the two of them but before she could say anything, Hillary
Tempest barked out her own complaints. “Can we get on with this? My knees are
starting to hurt.”

“Ten-hutt!”
Rick whispered just a little louder this time.

Ember
started laughing again. She couldn’t help it. Just like she couldn’t stop
herself from briefly covering Rick’s hand on her waist with her own. His fingers
felt hot beneath hers—almost as hot as the inferno roaring to life inside her.

Beside
Ember, Mitch twisted about to look at Rick. The
mean judge
liked
Hillary, but even he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “You know, Rick, I
thought you were all blue eyes and smiles. I didn’t realize you had a sense of
humor too.”

“Maybe
he should share the joke with the rest of us,” Fox suggested. He did not sound
amused.

Mitch
answered for all of them. “Oh, I don’t think so, Sir. Some things are
definitely better when they’re not repeated.” His gaze fell on Hillary
Tempest’s stern and disapproving features and he started laughing again.

Leon
Skursky kept clicking pictures.

Rick
leaned slightly forward so Ember and Mitch—and hopefully no one else—could hear
him. His breath tickled her ear when he spoke. “She’s got the scowl down
perfectly, too.”

Ember
wanted to stop laughing but she just couldn’t help herself. She and Mitch
sagged against each other, trying to keep from falling.

“Rogers!” Fox shouted the word. “This isn’t
Last Comic
Standing!”

Rick
tried to sound chastened. He’d pulled his hand back from Ember’s waist and
tried to adopt a choirboy’s contrite expression. “I’m sorry, Mr. Atwood! I’ll
be good. I promise!”

“Or
General Fox will make the whole platoon do KP duty.” Ember laughed. She hadn’t
censored herself and the words were loud enough for everyone to hear.

Rick
and Mitch doubled over again, unable to contain themselves as the laughter
spread to people who didn’t understand the whole joke. Kim’s face lit up as she
started to chuckle and Zach Donderhue—this season’s oldest contestant—looked
like a fourth grader trying not to laugh when the teacher was yelling at him.

Leon
just kept snapping pictures.

“Well,
that was almost a disaster,” Mitch whispered.

Ember
immediately checked to see that Mitch’s microphone was off. They’d been lucky
so far this season but Murphy’s Law suggested that it was only a matter of time
before Mitch grew careless again. When she was certain it was clear, she
answered Mitch. “What are you talking about? Hillary sang great tonight. She
really showed off her range. It was everything you’ve been talking about.”

Mitch
waved Ember’s comment away dismissively. “Not that, I’m talking about her
haircut.”

“Her
what?” Ember called up an image of the young woman in her memory and tried to
recall if she’d noticed anything different about her, but unlike all of the
other contestants, the thing that was
different
was that Hillary alone
had refused to change. She continued to wear her hair in punk spikes that
simply didn’t mesh with her insistence on relying solely on her vocal
talents.
 
After a few seconds of trying,
Ember conceded failure. “I didn’t notice anything.”