More Than Music by Elizabeth Briggs Page B

at the crowd of 7,500 before us—yes, last night I’d looked up how many people the Nokia Theatre held. It was hard to see anything with the bright lights blinding me, so I focused on getting to my spot without tripping. As I threw on my guitar strap, I caught Angel eyeing us from her chair with a smirk, no doubt plotting our demise.
    Once both bands were in place, Ray continued. “They’re both performing ‘Somebody Told Me’ by The Killers, and now we’ll flip a coin to see who goes first.” He flicked it dramatically. “And the first one up is…The Static Klingons! Here we go!”
    He hustled off the stage while the lights over us went out, leaving our band in darkness while The Static Klingons were illuminated. Sean gave the audience a boy-next-door smile before starting the opening guitar riff. As the band rocked out, we stood on the other side of the stage and watched, knowing we would be next, performing the same song for a mentor who hated us. And the worst part was…The Static Klingons were good. They’d barely tweaked the song at all, but it worked for them. Basically, we were screwed before we’d even started playing.
    The song ended, and everyone cheered. I clapped along too because it seemed like the polite thing to do, and the other guys joined in with me. Sean gave a little bow, and from the center of the stage, Ray said, “And now, Villain Complex!”
    The lights flashed over to us, and my heart pounded as I looked out into the theater, at all the faces staring at us. They’d already heard this song once, and it couldn’t possibly be as exciting to hear it a second time. Going first definitely would have been better.
    Jared grabbed the mic, pulling it close as he surveyed the crowd, and the theater went quiet. “Somebody Told Me” had a killer opening with great build-up, and we nailed it. Our version was darker and edgier, and when Jared sang, he twisted the lyrics into something beautiful and tortured, full of longing and regret.
    My focus narrowed down to the guitar in my hands, and the rest of the world faded away until it was just me and the music. We got to the bridge and Jared held the last note, turning it into an anguished cry that rang across the room. We let it hang over the crowd for a heavy pause and then dove back into the chorus, with me singing backup behind him. I loved this song and the way we’d made it our own, and once again I felt like I belonged here, on stage, with these three guys. Playing with them gave me an energy I’d never experienced anywhere else.
    We ended strong, and the sound of the audience’s cheers washed over us, like a blissfully cold wave on a hot day, but I couldn’t tell if they screamed more for us than they had for The Static Klingons. The mentors clapped, too, but it was hard to know what they really thought. None of them had used any of their rescues yet, but that didn’t mean they’d use them on us either. Even though, in my opinion, we’d totally owned this song.
    Ray Carter moved to the center of the stage again. “That was great! I love that song, and tonight we had two amazing performances of it. Dan, what did you think?”
    “I thought both bands did a really amazing job. The Static Klingons got the crowd going, but Villain Complex has such a killer sound and they did something really unique with the song. I’m glad I don’t have to pick one as the winner.”
    “Thanks, Dan,” Ray said. “Lissa, what about you?”
    “Like Dan said, both performances were strong. I do think the song was a little better for The Static Klingons and their sound, but Villain Complex held their own, too. I’d probably go with The Static Klingons myself, but definitely a tough decision.”
    Damn, guess we weren’t getting a rescue from Lissa tonight. Still, we only needed one.
    “Lance?” Ray asked.
    “I agree. They’re both talented bands. I wouldn’t want to let either of them go.”
    As usual, Lance kept it short. Ray turned the mic over to