I scowled at him. “Don’t push your luck.”
“There’s the Kathleen I know,” he said. “See you in Rhode Island.”
I saluted. “Yes, Mr. Director.”
CHAPTER 18
“This is the best fucking birthday ever!” LC shouted as Wyatt took a bow.
He’d just rocked the room with a rendition of Queen’s “Somebody to Love,” delighting all of us by hitting each high note with aplomb.
“Shots!” Ryan lifted his glass and downed it.
The rest of us did the same. The tequila burned but I didn’t care. Somehow Cal had found a private room in a karaoke club in Ireland where we could party and play without the watchful eyes of fans or paparazzi.
It was absolute heaven.
“Who’s next?” LC held up the enormous book of songs.
I’d already done a few numbers in the Katee Rose register—singing from the back of my throat and way up in my nose—but I was ready to let loose. To sing the way I always wanted to sing.
I grabbed the book from LC and flipped through it until I found the perfect choice.
“My turn!” I punched in the number and waited for the room to react.
“Oh shiiiiiiiit,” Wyatt said when the song title came up on the screen.
“Ah man,” Ryan groaned. “A musical?”
He thought they were lame and cheesy. He refused to go see them with me. I always laughed when he complained, like it was all this big joke that we were in on together, but the truth was that it hurt when he said things like that. When he diminished the things that I loved.
And sure, Cats was strange—the kind of show that people who hated Broadway shows always pointed to as proof that we theatre kids were absolute freaks—but what they missed was the purity of it all. There was something about singing a song like “Memory” that just allowed you to feel everything you needed to feel.
Musicals were just so big. Big and bold and fun and yes, a little nuts too.
And I loved it.
Plus this song was special. If I hadn’t gotten the chance to close out the showcase that summer at Curtain Call, who knew where I’d be right now? If it wasn’t for this song, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the chance to audition for Show N Tell and I probably wouldn’t have met Ryan.
If anything, he should be fucking grateful for Cats.
The song started and I closed my eyes and sang my lungs out.
I hit every note.
I killed it.
When I finished the room was silent.
I opened my eyes, ready to accept the cheers and applause that every other performance had gotten. Instead, I found looks of complete and utter shock on almost everyone’s faces.
The only one who didn’t look surprised was Cal.
Everyone else was looking at me like I’d unzipped my skin and a lizard person had stepped out.
“Wow,” LC finally said. “You have a great voice.”
“A really good voice,” Mason said.
They hadn’t known.
I looked over at Ryan. He blinked.
He hadn’t known either.
It was like being punched in the heart.
I knew that people talked about how bad Katee Rose’s voice was. All tight and nasally, a little bit whiny. But that was how my team wanted me to sing. Marilyn Monroe—if she was a pop star with Auto-Tune.
My fans didn’t care, but it stung anytime I read some review that commented on my sound. It had become second nature by now—to sing like that—but that didn’t mean it was the only way I could sing. It also didn’t mean that it was easy. It didn’t mean that everyone could do it.
And I had been able to ignore the critiques, for the most part, because I knew that it wasn’t true.
I’d thought Ryan had known as well. After all, he had always claimed he was the reason I’d gotten the Show N Tell gig. Because he’d seen my audition. Or so he said.
But he looked more shocked than anyone.
I stumbled as I got off the stage. My feet felt numb. My hands. My lips.
“Do another one!” Wyatt said.
I managed an exaggerated bow with a hand flourish, but it was mostly to hide how I wasn’t smiling.
“Another one!” Wyatt repeated, and quickly got the others to follow him in a chant. “Another one! Another one! Another one!”
But I didn’t want to do another one. I wanted to leave.
Instead, I played coy and excused myself, making some vague noise about a bathroom or needing air or whatever. It didn’t really matter because everyone was already focused on finding their next karaoke pick.
I left just as Mason started crooning “Glory of Love.”
The club was a maze, but I found a door. Mercifully it opened onto an alley, and I let it close behind me, filling my lungs with the fresh night air.
I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Ryan’s stunned expression.
He knew I could sing. Didn’t he?
I placed my palms against the brick wall behind me. It was cold. I wasn’t. I was still warm from the small room and the embarrassment.
I didn’t know why I was embarrassed. But the feeling was there, along with shame and disappointment. Was I that different as Katee Rose? Was it that shocking that I could actually carry a tune?
The door opened.
“They’re drunk,” Cal said.
He joined me against the wall.
“They still didn’t think I could sing,” I said.
“They’re idiots,” he said.
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “They’re not.”
“Jury’s out on Wyatt.”
“Fair,” I said. “But the rest of them?” I let out a breath. “They all thought I was a talentless hack. Famous for my tits and how well I can shake them.”
“Stop,” Cal said.
“It’s true,” I said. “Even Ryan was surprised.”
Cal didn’t say anything.
“Ryan isn’t an idiot,” I said.
Still nothing.
“I thought he knew,” I said.
“Ryan knows about himself,” Cal said. “There’s no room for anything else.”
I looked over at him. I knew that Cal and Ryan didn’t really get along, but I didn’t realize there was such animosity between them. The bitterness in Cal’s voice surprised me.