Authors: Elizabeth Eulberg

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Take a Bow (6 page)

BOOK: Take a Bow

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ME: About the drinking or Kelsey? Don’t they like her?

CHLOE: No, he hasn’t had anything to drink or anything, but with Kelsey it’s not like they didn’t like her. They
really
liked her. I don’t think any of them could take how he treated her. Especially Emme. Although the weird thing is that Kelsey wasn’t a fan of Emme’s.

I find that hard to believe. Who could find anything wrong with Emme? She’s so nice … and probably too loyal a friend.

CHLOE: Emme made every effort, but I don’t think Kelsey liked Ethan’s relationship with Emme.

ME: Did they ever?

CHLOE: God, no. Emme and Ethan are really close — or at least they used to be. Ethan clearly adores Emme and is very protective of her. I don’t think Kelsey appreciated that. I know Emme thinks Sophie is her best friend, but it’s really Ethan and the guys who have her back. She’s just so blinded by that girl. No offense.

ME: None taken.

The lights go down and the place erupts in cheers and applause.

Jack gets behind his drum kit while Ben and Emme plug in their guitars. Ethan comes storming onto the stage with his hands up. The girls start screaming for him.

It’s funny because Ethan doesn’t really make any impact at school. Sure, he’s known as one of the best music students, but he doesn’t grandstand or walk around demanding attention like most of the top students at CPA. He seems to enjoy flying under the radar, but up onstage, he commands attention. His charisma is palpable and I can now understand why there are so many girls here.

The band starts playing a song I’ve never heard before, one of their originals. But the people jammed up front are singing along to every word.

It’s amazing to see them up onstage. Seeing them walking down the street or even in a cramped greenroom, I don’t think you’d stop and think that these four people belong together. Jack: big teddy bear with a full head of wild Afro curls. Ben: unassuming dirty-blond-haired, blue-eyed guy who just happily strums his bass. Ethan: tall (he’s got to be close to six foot three now) and skinny, his black hair a little long and a bit curly; Emme: with her bright red hair, pale freckled skin, wearing all black and bobbing to the music as she strums her guitar.

But even if they look different, together onstage they’re a complete unit. It isn’t their friendship that I envy the most; it’s the passion for what they’re doing right at this moment. It’s clear that each one of them loves playing music. It’s their calling. It’s what they want to do.

Chloe leads me backstage after the concert. We get stopped a few times on the way for some photos, which I oblige. During the entire concert, I felt like a normal student watching his friends play. But once the lights came on, I saw all the girls with their cameras out, waiting for a picture. I was hoping “Carter Harrison” could take the night off. And the last thing I want to do is take any attention away from the band. Tonight is about them.

We get into the small room, which has become even tighter with people. Several girls have made their way backstage, all fighting for Ethan’s attention. The rest of the band are putting their instruments away. Chloe immediately finds Jack and, once again, I’m standing there trying to look like I belong.

Emme spots me and makes her way over. A few girls back up so Emme is intentionally pushed. She doesn’t seem to realize it, or maybe she’s used to it by now.

EMME: Hey, Carter, thanks for coming.

I stumble over my words for a moment and then it hits me, what I want to say. Actually, what I want to know.

ME: Do you love what you do?

If Emme is taken by surprise with this abrupt question, she doesn’t show it.

EMME: Yes. Performing used to make me so nervous, but not with these guys.

ME: You were really amazing. Truly. I love the new songs and the covers. Everything. I can’t believe four people can make such a complete sound.

I know that sounds stupid, but Emme blushes anyway.

EMME: Thanks.

I don’t know what it is (maybe the chocolate?), but suddenly I feel like I can tell Emme anything. Like she’ll understand me. I want to open up to somebody.

ME: Hey, can I buy you, like, a coffee or something? I’d love to talk to you some more, unless …

I don’t know if they have other plans or she’s tired or what. I see Ethan studying me. He comes over and gives Emme a hug.

ETHAN: Great show tonight.

EMME: Thanks. I’m going to pack up and then head out with Carter. Do you want me to grab your cords onstage so you can get back to your fan club?

Emme moves her chin subtly over to the group of four girls glaring at her.

Ethan doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge them.

ETHAN: No, it’s okay. I’ll go with you.

A girl comes over and tugs Ethan’s shirt.

GIRL: Hey, Ethan, I totally want to show you the pictures I took.

I can tell Ethan has no interest in looking at the girl’s photos. I can also sense tension between Ethan and Emme.

ME: I can help pack up and, like, move stuff or whatever.

Very elegant, Carter.

EMME: That’d be great, thanks.

Emme moves to leave the room, and Ethan pulls away from the other girl and grabs Emme’s arm.

ETHAN: Just give me a few minutes and I can help.

Emme shakes her head.

EMME: It’s getting late, and I want to pack up and leave. You know, some of us do have a curfew. Don’t worry about it — we can handle the breakdown. Talk to you later.

Emme turns on her heel and walks out the door. I follow her down the hallway, onto the stage.

Jack and Ben are already there disassembling the drum kit and amps. Jack doesn’t hesitate putting me to work. And I love it. I mean, I realize that I’m here purely for manual labor, but being with them makes me feel like part of the team.

I’m a little disappointed when the last amp is packed into the truck.

Ethan comes out to the alley with two girls following behind him.

JACK: Nice for you to show up once we’re done.

Ethan clenches his teeth and ignores the laughter coming from the two girls leaning against the wall.

EMME: Okay, guys, I’m heading out. Great show.

Emme gives each of the guys a hug. After she embraces Ethan, he leans in and whispers something in her ear. She turns around with an annoyed look on her face.

Emme leads me to a place close to the F train. She gets a green tea while I get a delicious mocha drink (if I’m going to splurge, might as well do it big-time, right?).

I go on and on about the show, and Emme listens patiently as she sips her tea. I run out of compliments and after I use the word
awesome
for the twelfth time, I decide to take a break.

EMME: You know, Carter, it’s okay. You can talk to me about Sophie.

ME: Sophie?

Sophie hasn’t even entered my mind the entire evening. Which should probably give me a hint of how well things are going between us.

EMME: Yeah, I assumed that’s what you wanted to talk to me about.

Oh, of course she assumed that it was about Sophie. This was a stupid idea.

ME: No, I just …

She sets her glass down and leans in. Her bright green eyes sparkle, and I can tell that I can trust her. Sophie constantly says what a good friend she is, and it’s clear that Emme has always gone out of her way for her friends.

ME: Actually, I wanted to talk to you about school. And I know this is going to sound weird, but this isn’t how I thought school would be.

She nods at me knowingly. I can tell that she is going to let me talk. I’m not used to that. Mom and Sophie do the talking. I do the listening. But not tonight. Tonight I’m going to say what I’ve been dying to scream out for years.

ME: I hate acting.

There. I’ve said it. And now I feel the floodgates open.

ME: Acting wasn’t even my choice. I’ve been doing it for forever and I don’t even like it. Sure, as a kid it was like playing pretend. And I had fun traveling the world and doing the
Kavalier Kids
movies, but then it just became so redundant. We sat around, got tutored, spent four hours shooting three lines of dialogue. At least with the soap, everything moves quickly because we’ve got five hours of TV to fill a week. But I’m not happy. This isn’t what I want. I don’t know what I want.

I pause.

ME: Actually, that’s a lie. I love to draw and paint. I love art. Sometimes on the weekends, I put on a baseball hat and a hoodie and spend hours at galleries in SoHo. And that’s such a stupid thing to have to hide. But I hide it from my mom, who wants me to return to the glory days. I know she’d think there’s no future in art, but like there is in acting? Let’s face it, I’m not that good. Sure, as a kid, I got by being all cute, but I don’t have the desire or depth to do more adult roles. I get the lead in everything because the girls will buy the tickets. Most of the teachers don’t even like me. Let’s not even get into the students. I don’t know. And I don’t know why I’m babbling to you, I just … I see you up onstage with the guys and you seem happy. Like you’re doing exactly what you are meant to do. Do you have any idea what a blessing that is? I don’t even see you that happy when you’re performing with Sophie.

I know I’ve hit a nerve. I can see her shift uncomfortably.

ME: I’m sorry, I know that is none of my business. I just … I want to be happy.

I finally let out a breath and take a sip of my mocha.

EMME: What would make you happy? Right now.

ME: Quitting the soap.

EMME: Okay.

She says it like that is so easy. But I guess it is. Money isn’t an issue. I technically don’t have to work.

EMME: And then?

ME: Take art classes.

EMME: Okay. So you need to quit the soap and take art classes.

Quit the soap and take art classes.

EMME: Does your mom have any idea about how you feel?

I shake my head. This has been her dream for so long, I don’t think she’s ever taken a moment to consider what
I
want.

ME: No, I’ve been keeping everything hidden from her. I don’t think she’d take it well.

EMME: But this is
your
life.

Yes, my life. Carter Harrison. Not “Carter Harrison” the all-American, blond-haired (thanks, lemon juice!), blue-eyed, sparkly white-teeth (thanks, bleach!) act. Me. Plain Carter. I hesitate as I want to tell her more, but I figure trying to quit the soap will be hard enough. So I’ll talk to Mom about quitting the soap and taking art classes.

Yeah, that’s going to be fun.