Free Facade by Kim Carmichael Page A

the same as the first time he heard them.
    Where he expected the band to be stopped like the solo acts before them, the judges and all those in the audience stayed put and let the little group finish their song.
    The one main judge who was the producer stood up. “Congratulations, get ready to take on the other bands in the Stage of Stars .” He held up an envelope and the rest of the judges clapped.
    Something felt extremely odd about the acceptance. It wasn’t genuine and felt rehearsed.
    “Seriously?” Nash shook his head.
    “Oh, yes!” The singer pressed her hands to her chest and jumped up and down before going to the edge of the stage and grabbing the documents.
    “Go backstage for some final details,” the judge instructed.
    After snatching up the envelope, the blonde went to her band and hugged them. Ahead of the rest, she charged backstage, basically heading right toward them, even if she didn’t know it. “See? I told you I didn’t need any backup, especially some washed-up singer from a coffee house.”
    Washed up? Wait until this one got an earful of true talent, but until that time arrived, maybe someone needed to realize they needed to watch their step, especially around him. In a flash, he grabbed Nash’s cane, and right as she walked by his hiding spot, he jutted the cane in her way.
    “Ah!” The singer tripped and ran forward, falling several feet away from them.
    “Hey, are you okay?” The one Erik recognized as the lead guitarist dashed over and helped the girl up.
    “I’m fine.” She swatted him away and got up. “I told you we would get the audition.” Again, she flung her hair around and sashayed away.
    Nash took his cane back. “She’s sort of horrible.”
    “By sort of, you must mean completely.” Erik returned to watching.
    After several more acts, both he and Nash were fidgeting.
    “I hope she comes on soon.” His friend groaned.
    Erik nodded and watched another woman have her hopes dashed and then a band who actually wasn’t half bad.
    Nash elbowed him. “That Chimera’s Dungeon almost reminds me of us.”
    “We had more finesse.” Erik huffed. There would never be another Spectre.
    Then at last, Christine came up on the stage.
    “There she is.” Nash stepped forward.
    Erik joined him. Even though he was off to one side, he could make out her pale complexion. It almost looked as if she had been through something. Her hair was a bit of a mess, her dress had some dust on it, and she seemed out of sorts. “Quiet.”
    She went to her mark in the center of the stage, she grabbed the mic and her music started.
    He tapped his foot with the beat and got ready for Christine to begin.
    Her cue came and went.
    “Sing.” Erik balled his hand in a fist. “Christine, sing.” He tried to transfer any strength he possessed to her.
    “She needs you,” Nash whispered.
    “She needs to sing.” Erik held his breath. The moments seemed to pass like hours. Christine would never forgive herself if she messed up her audition, and he never wanted her to live with any regrets. If she wanted the world to hear her sing, then he would do whatever it took to get her there. Though not sure exactly what he would do, he primed himself to act, even if it meant going out there to get the notes out. She already missed her first cue, but if she played her cards right she could come in right about…
    At last she began to sing.
    Her voice came out weak, a struggling sapling wanting to sprout from the hard earth. She appeared as if she wanted to wilt, and it was his job to support her. He had already watched the so-called judges knock people out of the running with less than a line. She needed him, and he had to be there, but he could do it in his own way. Since he wasn’t all that far from her, he could help. He cupped his hand around his mouth and threw his voice, praying it landed exactly where he needed. “Sing Cricket, I’m here.” At least he was too far away from the audience for them