This was one time I was glad Ryan wasn’t here. She was out for blood as she came backstage, pitching what amounted to a tantrum as she tipped over equipment and threw whatever she could get her hands on.
“And you,” she said, pointing an angry finger in my direction, “you suck as a singer! You’re just a spoiled little rich girl-a whore that ran off on her husband, and that’s the only reason you’re on the show!”
I was in no condition to challenge her over the remarks so I decided to let them roll over me. But, several of the guys decided she needed to stop as she got closer to me during the tirade. Sadarius, Rashad, and Lexington all got up from their seats and blocked her attempt to get near me.
They were telling her she needed to calm down, but that only agitated her further. The cameras were rolling and I hated the fact that all of this was going to make it on television. She finally seemed to relent, almost to the point of tears as she turned away from the group.
The line between us parted as Sadarius attempted to comfort her over being cut from the show. He was being impossibly kind as he spoke to her, but in a flash she turned and flew right at me. It had been a ploy to open a path. My reaction time was off as I missed blocking her swing and her fist smacked hard against my left cheekbone. I had never been punched in the face before, and I reeled backward, caught by Melanie and Melissa before I hit the chair behind me.
I was stunned for a moment, but the anger and adrenaline drown out my lethargy as I swung with a round-house kick straight to the side of her head and she hit the floor motionless.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my lip as I watched the crew roll her over and set her upright. I knocked her out cold, but she was coming around. Sadarius and Rashad got on either side of me and escorted me away before she made it to her feet.
“Sorry,” Sadarius was saying softly, “I didn’t have a clue she was playing me.”
“That’s okay,” I tried to say, but my jaw felt funny. “Man that hurt.” I reached up and placed my cool palm against my throbbing cheek.
Rashad laughed, “Yeah, well I think you definitely got in the better hit. She’s gonna feel that one for days.”
They took me back to the stage crew’s kitchen area and found a plastic baggie and some ice for my cheek.
“Here,” Sadarius said, as he wrapped the bag in a piece of cloth and placed it against the tender place on my face, “This’ll make it feel better in a little while.”
Don was there in a flash asking if I was okay. “She didn’t break anything, did she? Does the jaw feel okay?”
“Shit, man,” Rashad snapped, “the girl gets punched in the face and you sound like all you’re worried about is if her mouth is okay so she can still sing. Why don’t you just ask her if she’s okay and leave it at that?”
Don ignored him as he gently pulled my hand holding the ice pack on my cheek away. “That’s going to leave a bruise. There is a medic on the way in here to look at you and-”
“I’m okay,” I said, knowing that nothing had broken (except a little bit of my pride).
By the time the evening ended, and Carrie had been removed from the building, Sadarius walked me to the hotel. I could tell he still felt really bad about the fact he’d let his guard down long enough for her to get to me, but it wasn’t his fault.
The distance to the hotel was less than a block, but it gave us a chance to talk. I was mostly interested in his rise to fame when he came upon a home invasion and ended up taking on three armed intruders to save a family he didn’t even know. He was extremely modest about what he did, but he said the press made such a big deal about it he ended up on several talk shows telling about his adventure, and then he was approached to tryout for Remake.
“What do you mean tryout? Didn’t they just come and invite you?”
“Nah, I had to prove I could sing first. You know that, everyone had to audition at some point.”
I remembered the day Don appeared in Colorado Springs and all he wanted to know was if I could sing. I never sang a note for him until my first time in front of an audience. That was a little strange, and I knew I’d have to ask some of the other contestants to find out if what Sadarius was telling me was true. If so, then why did I seemingly get special privilege?
Even though Thursday was a free day, I spent it trying to recoup from a lack of sleep Wednesday night. The sore jaw didn’t help my efforts and I ended up with zero sleep time. It must have been near twelve noon when I finally relented, reached over and grabbed the blue capsule and reluctantly swallowed it.
When I opened my eyes it was one p.m. and I didn’t figure that stupid pill did much good other than make me have to pee like I’d drunk a quart of water. I was woozy as I made my way to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. At least the one hour’s sleep left me feeling rested. I flipped on the television and watched some news when I noticed something in the corner of the screen that caught my attention; the date. What? I grabbed up my cell phone and stared at the display. It was Friday, and I had slept twenty-five hours!
“Ah crap!” I said jumping out of the bed. I was scheduled in the studio in three hours! I rushed through my shower, and dressed. I was absolutely starving, but that was understandable since I’d missed a day’s worth of food. I went down to the restaurant and had a late lunch and then started out the lobby for the studio. Sadarius was heading out at the same time and offered to walk with me. I honestly think he was worried Carrie may have lingered in town and would be lying in wait to jump me or run me over.
“I tried calling you yesterday. I was going to see if you wanted to hang out for a little while, but you never answered.”
“No, believe it or not, I slept through yesterday.”
“Wow, that punch in the jaw must have been a little harder than I thought.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, the light purple bruise was still on my face under my makeup, but I wasn’t about to tell him the punch wasn’t what put me down for the day.
Thomas found me not long after I got to the studio and privately asked me if I tried his sleep-aid.
I scowled, “I slept an entire day!”
“But how do you feel today?” he continued, unaffected by the fact that I had an extended rest.
“Well, I feel great, but-”
“You don’t have to take them all the time, just when you really got to get some sleep. I brought you a bottle of them, but they aren’t cheap. Do you have five on you?”
“Five dollars?”
“No,” he laughed lightly, “Five hundred dollars-and that’s cheap.”
“I really don’t think I’d want to take another-”
“Ah, come on, girl. You don’t know all the trouble I went through to score this bottle for you. I’m already out the money and I’ve got rent to pay and-”
“All right, all right,” I said to get him to shut up. “But I never told you to put yourself out to do this for me.”
“I know, but I figured you looked like you could use some rest, you know.”
I opened my purse as Thomas unabashedly peered inside while I pulled out five, one-hundred dollar bills. I still had a considerable amount of cash I had not re-deposited, and I realized it was foolish to carry it around, but I would eventually get it to the bank.
He produced an unlabeled prescription bottle and dropped it into my purse, “Nice doin’ business with you, Leese. You let me know when you need some more, but five hundred was the cheap price. If we do this again it’ll be eight-hundred.”
“Trust me; I won’t be doing this again.”
He gave me a strange smile as he stuffed the cash into his pocket and simply said, “We’ll see.”