Chapter 26: Desperate Drummer
<🎧 Song Recommendation: Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood>
...
After the briefing, everyone went their seperate ways. Von lingered for a moment to exchange a few words with his former teammates. There was a brief round of high-fives and congratulations, but the celebratory mood was already gone. They were competitors again.
After wishing them luck, Von returned to his room.
Upon opening the door, he was surprised to find Julian already there. The handsome vocalist was sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, wearing a pair of heavy headphones. His brow was furrowed in concentration, as he tapped the floor slowly.
It wasn’t hard for Von to guess what was going through Julian’s mind. Rank 5 was impressive to anyone else, but for someone like him, dropping below the Top 3 was likely a bitter pill to swallow.
Von decided not to disturb him and walked quietly to his own side of the room. However, the movement caught Julian’s peripheral vision. He pulled the headphones down and looked up.
"Hey, Von."
"Sup, man," Von replied, tossing his jacket onto his bed. "You’ve been busy these days."
"Yeah," Julian acknowledged, rubbing his temples. "I was taking the group round preparations really seriously. We worked hard, but it’s unfortunate it didn’t work out the way I planned."
Von walked closer and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It’s no big deal, man. A 26 is still a solid score. You’re promoting either way. It doesn’t matter if you enter the Mansion as number one or number five, as long as you get through the door."
Julian offered a weak smile, clearly not agreeing with the sentiment. It was a known fact, rank determined screen time and admiration, and those determined fans, which influenced votes.
"Thanks," Julian mumbled. "And... congrats. You got a perfect score with your group. That’s really impressive. I didn’t think anyone would score so high."
Von shrugged at the praise. "It wasn’t a big deal. I had a great team, and we did an excellent job that needed doing. Now my focus is on the next round."
"Right. The next round. Don’t get too comfortable, Von. I intend increase the gap between us."
"Haha, we’ll see about that," Von smirked.
With nothing else to say, Julian slid his headphones back on, shutting out the world to dive back into his mental rehearsal.
Von climbed onto his own bed and grabbed his phone. He plugged in his earbuds, lay back against the pillow, and pressed play on To Fade Away.
A haunting, melancholic piano melody filled his ears slowly. Then, the vocals kicked in, a male and female duet, singing in a whispery, breathy tone that felt like a secret being shared in the dark.
🎹
There is a hole inside my chest...
Where all the love was put to rest...
🎹
Von closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him.
It wasn’t a technically difficult song. There were no high belts, no complex runs, nor any rapid-fire lyrics. It was deceptively simple. Of course, the Judges would expect some vocal flair, but the core of the song remained emotion.
On paper, it was a breakup song. But it could also describe dementia. Overall, it was about the feeling of someone slowly leaving your life until they were just a stranger again.
Getting the emotion right. That was the key.
Von stared up at the ceiling, the white plaster reminding him of a different room.
In his past life, he hadn’t lost a someone to dementia, nor had he experienced a breakup. But he knew what it was like to fade.
He remembered the small room he had confined himself to. He remembered the feeling of his own existence slipping away while the world outside kept turning, indifferent to him.
’I can use that... I can channel that fear when I perform.’
***
As the days went by, the tension in the hotel only increased. Von and Julian weren’t the only ones taking this performance seriously; the entire roster was on edge.
The lower-ranked contestants were vocal about their displeasure, complaining that going first on Day 1 gave them a disadvantage compared to the Top 50 who had extra days to practice. But the producers didn’t care. The industry wasn’t fair, and neither was this show.
On the evening of the second day, Von had an unexpected visitor.
He was alone in the room, playing a multi-player mobile game to pass time when he heard a knock on the day.
"Oof," Von sighed. He couldn’t pause the game as he walked over and swung the door open.
Standing there, looking anxious as usual, was Conor.
Von hadn’t really spoken to the drummer since their group performance. While they had good chemistry during that time, they weren’t exactly close to warrant a casual visit.
"Sup, man. Come on in."
Conor stepped inside cautiously and took the seat Von offered.
"So," Von said, leaning against his bed frame. "What do I owe the visit?"
""I... just needed your assistance with something."
Von raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"Von, you probably don’t know this, but... I really need this. Like, really need to qualify."
"We all need this, Conor."
"No, I mean... I’m homeless, man. Before the show, I was sleeping in the back of my friend’s van. If I get cut, I have nowhere to go. I need to make it to the Star Mansion. If I make it, even if I get eliminated later, I’ll have enough exposure to find gig work."
Von nodded slowly as he listened.
"And thanks to you, Aura, and Sofie," Conor continued, "I’m currently Rank 22. I’m right on the edge. If I slip up even a little bit in this solo round, I drop out of the Top 24. And I’m gone."
"Okay," Von finally said. "And what do you need from me?"
"I need your help, Von. I need you to teach me how to sing. You’re the one who discovered my drum talent. You’re the one who led the team. I figured... you’d be the best person to ask."
Von put down his phone on the nightstand. "Teach you how to sing? Conor, the performance is tomorrow. I can’t really teach you anything. And I’m not so good either."
"I know," Conor pleaded. "But I don’t need much. I just need to be good enough to not get a bad score."
Von looked at the drummer and saw the desperation in his eyes.
"Well," he said, standing up and stretching. "If you put it that way... I can help you out. It’s not a big deal."
Relief washed over Conor’s face so intensely he looked like he might cry. "Thank you. Seriously, thank you."
"Don’t thank me yet. You don’t even know if I can help you... But let’s begin. Show me what you got with that song."