Chapter Four
Elly
I got to work a couple of hours before the results show started. I had to set up, but also, I had to admit that I was hoping Tristan was planning to come in early to talk to me. I may have been an idiot for thinking it, but I really thought he would call and apologize to me for telling me to shut-up. Especially in front of people, and especially after I was willing to still be there for him. I knew he was hurting, but that was crossing a line. I hope he paid attention to my text and he didn’t do anything stupid. I knew his bad attitude was because of being sober for a couple of days. I was sure he felt like hell, but it not my fault. If he was going to make it and kick the drugs, he was going to have to start taking some personal responsibility. He seemed to be really good at putting that on everyone else.
I couldn’t help but wonder how the show was going to go. He made such a scene and spewed profanity at the judges. Then the final act where he threw his guitar against the wall was just beautiful. I saw Clint come out of his office down the hall just as he did that. He didn’t look happy. I wondered, if he made it through by some miracle, would the producers let him stay? When no one was looking, I’d taken his guitar and put it away. I’d take it to him later.
I wanted him to win the contest. He really was the most talented contestant and he deserved it…but, he needs help. I feel sick inside every time I let myself think about how bad he looked the night before. If he got voted off, I was sure that he’d throw in the towel and just go back to using. I was pretty sure that the contest was the one thing that he had to look forward to. I would have liked to believe it was me as well, but I that might have given me too much credit. The bottom line was if he kept using, he was going to end up losing everything eventually, maybe even his life. I couldn’t stand that thought.
I tried to act natural while Molly, Keith, and I worked on setting things up. All the talk was about Tristan’s scene last night and I got a couple of glances from Molly that looked…sympathetic, maybe? She was discreet though, and I did my best to avoid having to discuss it. I could tell that she was dying to ask me about it, but to her credit, she didn’t. The rest of the staff didn’t know about Tristan and me, yet I felt like I kept getting cornered by someone who wanted to talk about it. I did my best to act neutral. Once everything was ready to go, and the contestants started showing up, I got nervous all over again wondering what kind of mood Tristan would be in.
When he finally got there, he took a seat in the far back while he waited for the contestants to get called on stage. He didn’t make eye-contact with anyone and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He had to feel bad, or be embarrassed about how he acted…he was just so stubborn that he wouldn’t talk to anyone about it. He had a bandage around his right hand and I wondered who or what he had punched. He was going downhill fast and all I could do was sit back and watch. I was praying that he still planned on going into rehab…I was afraid he wouldn’t make it otherwise.
I wanted to go talk to him so badly and make sure that he was okay…but people would wonder what I was doing. With Tristan being everyone’s focus, they’d be asking a lot of questions that I didn’t want to have to answer.
“Hey! What happened to his hand?” It was Molly. She had obviously noticed the bandages too.
“I have no idea. I haven’t talked to him since before the show yesterday. At least not since I tried to make sure he was okay and he not very nicely told me to stay out of it.”
“He was definitely having a bad night,” Molly said.
“Definitely,” I agreed. The show was getting ready to start and as the contestants went to take their places, Molly and I watched. The four contestants that were left were supposed to sing together. I wondered if Tristan even knew about it. I doubted that he showed up for rehearsal. I watched closely as they sang and it was obvious that Tristan was only holding the mic and moving his lips. He had absolutely no expression on his face at all. If I could tell that he wasn’t really singing, everyone else could, too. He was really blowing it. It was like watching a sinking ship and not even having a life raft to toss out.
When that song finished, they got down to the results. The host did it a little differently tonight since there were only four of them.
“Ethan and Rosa….” he said, and then he paused as he normally does for drama’s sake before saying, “You’re both safe. Ethan, you came in second in the votes last night and Rosa, you came in third. That means that Tristan or Michaela got the most votes and the one that remains got the least and will be going home tonight. We’ll find out who that is…after the break.”
My nerves were on edge, and I could only imagine how Tristan must have been feeling. He’d completely melted down on live television. He didn’t look nervous….but he didn’t really look anything. He was flatter than I’d ever seen him. I wondered if that was lack of drugs, or if he’d found something to numb the pain. When the lights came back up, the MC rehashed what had already happened and then he said, “Tristan….”
I knew that was it. My belly was full of butterflies. I was so convinced that this was it for Tristan, I barely heard the MC say, “You’re safe!” There was a rumble through the audience and the judges all had looks of shock on their faces. Everyone had thought the same thing I did: that he was through. I seriously couldn’t believe it…after all that. I guessed Americans were addicted to drama. They must have developed a new found respect for him or something because he told the judges off. All I could do was shake my head.
Tristan looked the most shocked of all. I think he’d already prepared himself for the worst. He still didn’t look happy, though; that broke my heart most of all.
After Michaela sang her final song, the host said, “This year we’re trying something new. I’m excited about this and I think the contestants and the audiences at home will too. Next week, the three finalists will be doing a duet. The kicker is this…they can sing with anyone they chose to sing with. It can be their mother, their best friend, their music teacher, or the homeless guy that sits outside the theater. It’s up to them. I can’t wait to see how this turns out. That’s all for tonight, America! Thanks for watching!”