The Shadow Prince
Page 27
“Fifteen seconds!”
I push at the curtain and see a sliver of light dance between its folds. I trail my hand along the fabric until I come to the opening. I think I hear someone let out a breath behind me. I look back, sure I’m being watched, and step out into the light of the stage.
“I’m here,” I say, holding my hand up to block the sudden brightness of the spotlight that is trained on center stage.
“Nice of you to decide to join us, Miss Rain,” the teacher says curtly.
“It’s Miss Raines.”
“Noted,” he says, making a mark in his binder. “You were almost too late.”
“Sorry. I was told my audition was at three thirty.”
He purses his lips for a moment. “I expect my students to be prepared for anything.”
“Well, I am,” I say.
“Do you have sheet music for the pianist?”
I stifle a smile. CeCe had always thought that was the funniest word. “I thought I’d play my own accompaniment.” I place my fingers on the right chords and prepare to start playing, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice the curtains at the side of the stage rustling. I stand still for a moment, trying to see if anything is really there. Maybe I hadn’t been imagining things when I was backstage. Maybe someone had been there.
Maybe the stranger from the grove had followed me.…
My muscles tense. I wonder if I should say something, but my voice is caught in my throat.
“Well, then, what are you waiting for?” Mr. Morgan asks, clearly still annoyed.
I look at him and then to the expectant faces of the students in the crowd. Some of them looked embarrassed or nervous for me, and I can tell by the tone that titters off Lexie and the cluster of friends sitting with her that they’re highly amused. I see Lexie pull her iPhone from her pocket and stealthily train it on me.
Do they think I’m going to throw up on the stage like that freshman girl? Or do I look as mentally disturbed as I feel at the moment?
“If you don’t want to be in my music program, Miss Rain, then I suggest you get off my stage,” Mr. Morgan says.
For half a second, I find myself wondering if I do want to be in his music program.
If I want to be here at all. I could just walk right off this stage, bike back to Joe’s mansion, and demand that he fly me back to Ellis.
But Joe still has that court order. He’d probably never send me back now that I am here. Or he’d get lawyers involved and my mom would end up going bankrupt trying to fight him. If I walk away now, then the sacrifice of leaving my mom so I can follow my dreams would end up being for nothing.
“No. I came here to sing.” I force all the fear and nerves out of my body with a deep breath and strum out the beginning of the song. Sometimes, when I play—when I’m really into it—I can feel the notes dancing around me. That’s the way I play today. Like my entire world is wrapped up in this song—because this is the moment I’ve been waiting for. The moment I can actively start making my dreams come true.
When my voice joins in with the guitar, I can feel the energy in the crowd shift. Their surprise vibrates about the room. Along with it are notes of happiness and relief, but I can also pick out the darker tones of jealousy from a certain pocket of girls in the crowd. I take all of it in. Absorbing the vibrations in the room and channeling them into my voice and into my hands. Letting it all come out in my music.
In Ellis, my music obsession made me different.
Here, I can use it to make me stand out.
When I round into my third song, Tobin catches my eye. He gives me a big grin and thumbs-up. The joyful melody that wafts off him has so much energy, it carries me through the rest of the song all on its own.
It isn’t until the last line that I notice that someone else is watching from the shadows in the back of the auditorium. Or at least I think I see the flash of fiery eyes in the darkness. I almost falter on the last note, but I pull it off with gusto. I hold my guitar out and take a quick bow when I’m done.
“Well, then,” Mr. Morgan says, actually sounding happy this time. “That’ll do, for sure.”
Tobin and Iris stand up and start clapping. A few others join in. I don’t pay them much attention as I jump down from the stage and jog quickly to the back of the auditorium. But I’m standing alone in the shadows—maybe I hadn’t seen anything—until someone grabs me by both hands.
“That was utterly fantastic,” Tobin says, shaking my hands in excitement. “I’ve never heard anyone with a range like yours.” I expect his touch to hurt the welts on my arm, but as he lets go of my wrist, I notice the red marks are gone.
“No wonder you got a scholarship,” Iris says, coming up to us.
“About that …,” I start to say.
Mr. Morgan raises his voice above the chatter that fills the room. “Lexie Simmons. You’re up.”
“I’d hate to be her right now,” Iris whispers. “Wouldn’t want to follow you. No way.”
Lexie approaches the stage. Her inner music pounds out a symphony of dark notes. I don’t need to see the not-so-friendly look she throws me as she climbs the stage steps to know that I have definitely crossed onto her bad side.
Tobin catches the exchange. “Looks like you might be needing a little protection from the mob,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially. “Perhaps I can offer my services.” He pretends to flex his muscles like a strong man in a carnival sideshow. I’ve got at least four inches on him heightwise, but that doesn’t seem to deter him from thinking he can be my personal goon squad.
“What’s it going to cost me?” I ask.
“Let me give you the welcome-wagon tour of the town. I’m the mayor’s kid, after all. I know all the good places to check out.”
I glance into the empty shadows behind us.
“Yeah,” I say, and smile. There’s one place in particular I want to check out again—and I don’t want to go there alone.
Chapter fifteen
HADEN
I climb the trellis that leads to the window of my new bedchamber and slip inside. I scan the room. Everything is the same as I had left it. I can hear the soft murmur of voices down the hall, and I am sure my absence has gone undetected. Good thing. I don’t want Dax to know how colossally I’ve screwed up. What had I been thinking?
I push at the curtain and see a sliver of light dance between its folds. I trail my hand along the fabric until I come to the opening. I think I hear someone let out a breath behind me. I look back, sure I’m being watched, and step out into the light of the stage.
“I’m here,” I say, holding my hand up to block the sudden brightness of the spotlight that is trained on center stage.
“Nice of you to decide to join us, Miss Rain,” the teacher says curtly.
“It’s Miss Raines.”
“Noted,” he says, making a mark in his binder. “You were almost too late.”
“Sorry. I was told my audition was at three thirty.”
He purses his lips for a moment. “I expect my students to be prepared for anything.”
“Well, I am,” I say.
“Do you have sheet music for the pianist?”
I stifle a smile. CeCe had always thought that was the funniest word. “I thought I’d play my own accompaniment.” I place my fingers on the right chords and prepare to start playing, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice the curtains at the side of the stage rustling. I stand still for a moment, trying to see if anything is really there. Maybe I hadn’t been imagining things when I was backstage. Maybe someone had been there.
Maybe the stranger from the grove had followed me.…
My muscles tense. I wonder if I should say something, but my voice is caught in my throat.
“Well, then, what are you waiting for?” Mr. Morgan asks, clearly still annoyed.
I look at him and then to the expectant faces of the students in the crowd. Some of them looked embarrassed or nervous for me, and I can tell by the tone that titters off Lexie and the cluster of friends sitting with her that they’re highly amused. I see Lexie pull her iPhone from her pocket and stealthily train it on me.
Do they think I’m going to throw up on the stage like that freshman girl? Or do I look as mentally disturbed as I feel at the moment?
“If you don’t want to be in my music program, Miss Rain, then I suggest you get off my stage,” Mr. Morgan says.
For half a second, I find myself wondering if I do want to be in his music program.
If I want to be here at all. I could just walk right off this stage, bike back to Joe’s mansion, and demand that he fly me back to Ellis.
But Joe still has that court order. He’d probably never send me back now that I am here. Or he’d get lawyers involved and my mom would end up going bankrupt trying to fight him. If I walk away now, then the sacrifice of leaving my mom so I can follow my dreams would end up being for nothing.
“No. I came here to sing.” I force all the fear and nerves out of my body with a deep breath and strum out the beginning of the song. Sometimes, when I play—when I’m really into it—I can feel the notes dancing around me. That’s the way I play today. Like my entire world is wrapped up in this song—because this is the moment I’ve been waiting for. The moment I can actively start making my dreams come true.
When my voice joins in with the guitar, I can feel the energy in the crowd shift. Their surprise vibrates about the room. Along with it are notes of happiness and relief, but I can also pick out the darker tones of jealousy from a certain pocket of girls in the crowd. I take all of it in. Absorbing the vibrations in the room and channeling them into my voice and into my hands. Letting it all come out in my music.
In Ellis, my music obsession made me different.
Here, I can use it to make me stand out.
When I round into my third song, Tobin catches my eye. He gives me a big grin and thumbs-up. The joyful melody that wafts off him has so much energy, it carries me through the rest of the song all on its own.
It isn’t until the last line that I notice that someone else is watching from the shadows in the back of the auditorium. Or at least I think I see the flash of fiery eyes in the darkness. I almost falter on the last note, but I pull it off with gusto. I hold my guitar out and take a quick bow when I’m done.
“Well, then,” Mr. Morgan says, actually sounding happy this time. “That’ll do, for sure.”
Tobin and Iris stand up and start clapping. A few others join in. I don’t pay them much attention as I jump down from the stage and jog quickly to the back of the auditorium. But I’m standing alone in the shadows—maybe I hadn’t seen anything—until someone grabs me by both hands.
“That was utterly fantastic,” Tobin says, shaking my hands in excitement. “I’ve never heard anyone with a range like yours.” I expect his touch to hurt the welts on my arm, but as he lets go of my wrist, I notice the red marks are gone.
“No wonder you got a scholarship,” Iris says, coming up to us.
“About that …,” I start to say.
Mr. Morgan raises his voice above the chatter that fills the room. “Lexie Simmons. You’re up.”
“I’d hate to be her right now,” Iris whispers. “Wouldn’t want to follow you. No way.”
Lexie approaches the stage. Her inner music pounds out a symphony of dark notes. I don’t need to see the not-so-friendly look she throws me as she climbs the stage steps to know that I have definitely crossed onto her bad side.
Tobin catches the exchange. “Looks like you might be needing a little protection from the mob,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially. “Perhaps I can offer my services.” He pretends to flex his muscles like a strong man in a carnival sideshow. I’ve got at least four inches on him heightwise, but that doesn’t seem to deter him from thinking he can be my personal goon squad.
“What’s it going to cost me?” I ask.
“Let me give you the welcome-wagon tour of the town. I’m the mayor’s kid, after all. I know all the good places to check out.”
I glance into the empty shadows behind us.
“Yeah,” I say, and smile. There’s one place in particular I want to check out again—and I don’t want to go there alone.
Chapter fifteen
HADEN
I climb the trellis that leads to the window of my new bedchamber and slip inside. I scan the room. Everything is the same as I had left it. I can hear the soft murmur of voices down the hall, and I am sure my absence has gone undetected. Good thing. I don’t want Dax to know how colossally I’ve screwed up. What had I been thinking?
