It was work or lose mycareer. Now more than ever. I’d screwed up one too many times, and HarmonyRecords had started to see me as a liability. They wouldn’t have sent Johnotherwise.
Clearing my throat, I noddedto Dave to start recording again. This time, I’d get it right. This takewould be the perfect one, and then we could all take a break and come back toit later.
John’s voice echoed in my earsas the music started up.
We could tear it up rightnow.
They could. I’d always been attheir mercy. At my uncle’s mercy.
And now I’d gone and lostthe one thing I’d wanted from all this. My song. My one chance to prove that Icould bemorethan a prettyface and a well-trained voice.
Especially since my voicekept giving out on me. Even as I sang the first few words—something ridiculousabout a bad breakup I’d never had—my throat tickled, getting tight as Itried to hit a higher note.
I made it, but barely, and Icould feel my lungs burning with the effort. The doctor had cleared me to workagain, but I was starting to wonder now if that was because I was okay orbecause of the desperation in my eyes. I’d begged to be allowed tofinish this before everyone got tired of me not doing as I was told and threwme out on my ass.
A calming breath betweenphrases settled my nerves a little, the sound of the music in my headphonessoothing me. Ilovedmusic. I’d always loved music.
The music was the part Icould do. I didn’t have to worry about any of the rest of it. Not right now.
I was getting this right. Itwasworking.
Right up until the next highnote, when my voice cracked in my throat, a sudden shock of pain as the soundfizzled out and I choked on it.
Tears sprung up in my eyes,half pain, half frustration.Dammit.
A knock on the window of thesound booth made me jump. When I looked around, Lucy was staring back at me,her newly-threaded brows drawn together.
She was disappointed, too. Iwas letting everyone down.
I couldn’tdo this. I was a fraud.I’dgone as far as I could and now the walls were closing in on me, the limits ofmy talent stretched to the point of snapping.
I yanked the headset off,throwing it on the hook and scrambling out of the booth, panic rising in mythroat.
The last thing I wanted wasto cry in public after yesterday. It was only a matter of time before thetabloids started reporting that I was in the middle of one of those breakdownsmusicians were so famous for.
All I had to do was shave myhead, and honestly? I was thinking about it, with my hair flopping into my eyesright now. Just one more frustration in a sea of them.
“Quinn?” Lucy asked.
“Leave me alone,” I snapped,unable to stop myself. The need to escape was overriding everything else in my mind,darkness closing in around the edges of my vision.
I had to get away.
Fox was between me and thedoor, and still twice my size, but I nudged my way past him—harder than I meantto—and slipped into the hall. Free, I turned on my heel and headed straight forthe bathroom.
Great. I was about to end upcrying in the men’s room like an angsty teenager. Just what my professional imageneeded right now.
All the same, the sound ofthe door clicking shut pushed back some of the panic threatening to overwhelmme. I was safe here. Alone. I could cry if I had to.
Locking myself in the endstall, I leaned back against the flimsy door with the huge gap under it andfelt hot tears start to roll down my cheeks, breath coming in pathetic sobs, mynose starting to run.
I couldn’tstopscrewing up overthe past few days, could I? Everything I touched went wrong.
Someone had a notebook fullof my most private thoughts and all my work.
I’d kissed Fox out of nowherewhen I shouldn’t have.
And now I couldn’t even manage todo my actualjob. The one thing I had to get done today.
