Bach

––––––––

The line of women was in the double-digits. There were enough people here that, if we only signed half of them, they'd replace every empty slot on our roster. Beats and Blast was finally turning around.

And it's all thanks to Amina. My beautiful wishing star... who had managed to avoid me for the last three days. Violet had helped, of course. She'd made sure I had tons of work keeping me late in the office. And in the morning, she'd pound on my door until I stumbled outside and into my car. Once, I'd glimpsed Amina as she sipped coffee in one of the gazebos on my property.

The early sun turned the strands of her black hair into spun gold. Her eyes had met mine over her cup, then darted away. My plan to woo her back to me wasn't going well. Maybe after I signed a few new musicians Violet would cut me some slack. Then I could find an excuse to be alone with Amina.

“Morning!” a voice said as I entered the audition room. There was a young man sitting with his knees spread wide in a chair at the table. He had sunglasses on and, despite that we were indoors, he didn't remove them. His blue and orange hair was gelled into tons of small spikes.

It took me a minute to recognize him. Roshio Upland was huge on social media. He was a decent singer, but mostly, he'd managed to become famous by getting in the faces of every famous person he could corner on the street. People loved how rude he was. He'd even wriggled his way into hosting a number of reality shows.

“Roshio? Why are you here?”

“I invited him,” Violet said, coming in behind me. She shut the door, then settled into a chair. “Roshio's what we call an ‘influencer’.”

“Please,” he chuckled, “I hate that term.”

Violet gave him a polite smile. “It means he has his finger on the pulse of what's popular. He knows how to recognize an ‘it girl’, and he was kind enough to agree to work as a consultant today.”

“I don't need help recognizing talent,” I said.

Roshio slid his sunglasses up onto his forehead. His eyes were perceptive, fierce black balls. “Hey bro, from what I've heard, you need all the help you can get to keep this place afloat. But if you really want me to leave...”

He was halfway out of his chair before Violet motioned at him to sit back down. “Please, Roshio, ignore Bach. He's not a morning person.”

“Yeah,” I said, dropping heavily into the seat between the both of them. “Every tiny little pain in my ass is exasperated when it's so early.” I shifted so I could focus on Violet. “Why are there only women outside?”

She pursed her lips. “That's a complaint I never expected from you. We had enough people wanting to apply that I split the groups. Guys will audition tomorrow.”

Another early morning? This was what I hated about being a responsible adult.

The door cracked open. Farrah leaned inside, taking us all in. “The girls are ready, Mr. Devine.”

“Time for the cattle call,” Roshio said with a sneer.

“Don't call it that,” Violet snapped.

The younger man cast me a private look that said You agree with me, right? But I didn't reward him with a response. I just pushed my fingertips together over my lap and jerked my chin at Farrah where she was waiting by the door. “Let the first one in.”

Violet passed a booklet to me, then over to Roshio. She flipped through her own as she talked. “This will be Vienna Short. She's from Orange County, did backup vocals for the Starships' Burst Tour.”

“The Starships?” Roshio mused. “They're pretty well known.”

The girl swayed into the room on six-inch red heels. Her twin braids swung on her shoulders as she flashed me a wink. “Oh my gosh, can I just say I’m so excited to be here?”

I bet she wouldn’t have said that a few days ago. Her whole demeanor came off plastic. I disliked her instantly. “Vienna?” I asked.

“That’s me!” she giggled.

I flipped through her file. “Go ahead and sing something for us.”

“My pleasure, doll.” Her voice dripped with too-sweet honey. Yet, when she cleared her throat and began her song, it was like her lyrics were plain, dry white bread. Boring and flavorless. Before she’d finished the tune, I held up my hand. She startled, mouth popping open as she stared at me incredulously.

“That’s enough.”

“Oh, then you...” She was waiting for me to compliment her. Violet stared at me so intently I felt her eyeballs burning a hole in my skull.

“We’re done,” I said. I flipped to a new page. “Farrah,” I called loudly. “Next, please.”

Vienna was stunned. The color in her cheeks increased, like she was about to curse at me. Amazingly, she managed a tiny nod, a brief finger-wave, then she strutted past my secretary and out the door.

I hoped the next singer would be better.

She wasn’t.

Girl after girl entered, all of them some caricature that screamed my agent is trying to brand me. Wild hair colors, random accessories, false piercings; it was painfully inauthentic. But I could have tolerated that. Those are things that can be changed. But their voices... their talent... that was where they missed the mark. That was unfixable.

“Bach, you're going too far,” Violet growled at me. I’d just waved away another countless failure. I’d already forgotten her name.

“Stop pressuring me. Wait until we hear them all.”

“That was all of them, Bach. You just said no to the last girl.”

Sobering ice jolted up my spine. I said no to all of them?

“What's your problem, man?” Roshio asked. “You seriously don't want to sign anyone? And I thought I'd be the picky one in this room.”

“Can you give us a moment?” Violet asked him. Roshio spun his chair in a circle, then walked out the door without looking back. I was jealous that he could exit so smoothly. There was no pressure on him to salvage an empire. “Bach. What's going on?”

Shaking my head, I said, “They weren’t good enough. Did you vet them, all of them?”

Her forehead split into rows of tight, angry lines. “I spent the last three days listening to track after track from these girls. I was picky when I chose this lineup. I know these girls have talent and some, if not all of them, would be a perfect fit for this company!”

“Try again,” I snapped.

“I'm sorry, try again?”

“You heard me.” Fuck, my head was splitting; I gripped my temples and frowned. “Find new people to audition. Maybe the guys will be better, I don't know, but this isn't working.”

“We agree on something, at least.” Gathering up the booklets, she avoided looking me in the eye. “You're the boss. I'll go through the submissions again. Maybe some of the girls I didn't pick for this audition are worth giving a second look.”

“That sounds fine.” It didn't, and the air crackled between us from our shared black mood. We’d been starving to get musicians interested in the company for months. Now we had them! Auditions was supposed to be the easy part!

Something had changed.

Stepping into the hallway, I watched as the women grumbled quietly, or openly complained, about their disappointing experience. Someone I didn’t expect to see was leaning against the wall, trying to stay out of the way of the crowd.

Amina.

That girl had spoiled me, then tainted me, with her existence.

Clarity hit me like a truck. I clutched my chest, gripping the door's frame to remain on my feet. Of course, that’s what’s wrong!

Because of her, I'd been unable to see anything but flaws in those other girls. I'd have ignored those tiny things in the past. Now, it was impossible.

I knew what was wrong with the auditions.

What was wrong with everyone else.

None of them were her.