My Rock #2 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #2) Read Online Free PDF

him with another smile.
Then I walked half-way over to where Tristan was at.
    He still had his head down and I had to find my
breath before I said, “Hey Tristan, they’re ready for you on set.”
    He got up and for the first time all morning he made
eye contact and smiled at me. I smiled back, that was acceptable I think I
smiled at the other contestants all the time.
    He looked a little nervous and before he stepped
through the door I said, “Good Luck.”
    He took a deep breath, winked at me and went on.
That little wink sent shock waves through my body. I closed the door and went
over to the television monitor where I could watch. Tristan had a full band, a
piano, bassist, drummer and banjo player. He played his guitar along with them,
and at first the music was beautiful. Then he started singing and I was taken
back to that bar the first night I’d seen him after so many years. I think I
may have actually grimaced. He wasn’t singing…he was yelling. It was a rock
song and it called for the yelling, I guess but I was cringing inside because I
knew that it wasn’t something our judges were going to care much for. The
purpose of this show was to showcase talent…vocal abilities. This song didn’t
do that at all. It also seemed to go on and on and on.
    When he finished, he looked confident. The judges
were all looking like they didn’t want to be the one that had to talk
first…that wasn’t a good sign. My chest ached a little because I knew what they
were about to say and he looked like he had no idea. I think it would have been
easier if he’d known how bad it was. The country star got stuck with the short
straw.
    “I’m sorry Tristan…for me that was…I just didn’t
like it at all.” I had my eyes trained on Tristan’s face on the screen. He
flinched a little, but that was it, he didn’t say anything. “The music didn’t
seem to match the lyrics and the lyrics were hard to understand because you
weren’t actually singing them…you were yelling them. You have a great voice,
but this just didn’t showcase that in any way.”
    The “Diva” went next. She looked like she was going
to cry as she said, “I really like you, Tristan. You’re one of my favorites and
you have so much talent. Wow, I hate having to say this baby but…that was just
all bad. You were all over the place….” She stopped there and said, “Sorry
baby.” Tristan had kept his eyes on her the whole time, but his facial
expression didn’t change at all. He looked at the last judge then, the harshest
one.
    The aging record producer simply said, “I hated it.
It may well have been the worst thing I’ve ever been forced to listen to.”
    The country singer started saying something else. I
think he was going to talk to him about the importance of song choice, but
Tristan wasn’t going to listen to any more of it. He picked up his guitar and
walked off the stage. He came out the wrong way, back towards me. I’m guessing
he didn’t want to ham for the cameras and answer the emcee’s stupid questions.
I don’t think he was making a lot of points with my colleagues. I tried to say something
to him as he walked by. I just wanted to tell him that there was always next
week…but he brushed past me like I wasn’t even there. Before he went out the
door into the hall, he slammed his guitar into the wall, hard. Pieces of it
went flying.   
    The assistant producer, a man named Tony ran after
him.
    “Tristan, man calm down. Their opinions aren’t
always what matters man. All you can do is your best and then wait and see what
happens with the votes.”
    “Fuck that! I did my best. That was a fucking great
performance! I wasted my whole week working on that just to be told it was
awful by three tone deaf mother fuckers! This damned show is rigged. They all
have their little favorites and they’re trying to skew the audience in their
favor by talking shit to the rest of us.”
    The A.P. chuckled and said, “Come on, Tristan,