Chapter 24

The house was ... quite the experience. While I was the youngest by a good couple of years, everyone was still fairly young, with the oldest contestant topping out at twenty-nine. It wasn’t hard to imagine what would happen when young and generally attractive people were all thrown in a mansion together. Especially, with the massive bar stocked with a mountain of alcohol.

On the plus side, the house was amazing. “House” was actually an understatement. “Mansion” was a much more apt description. Even at its size, we still had to double and triple up, since it didn’t have thirty bedrooms. But the rooms were so big that even with two other people bunking with me, I still had more space than I’d had in my entire room in the trailer. I was also lucky that Vince, the obnoxious Jersey guy, didn’t get put with me. It was me, Cole, and some guy named Norman, although I didn’t get much more than his first name.

After catering fed us dinner, the party started kicking into high gear. After living with my dad, I didn’t particularly want to be in a room with a bunch of drunk people, so I found a side room just off the main room where everyone was gathering. I would have preferred to be up in my room, getting some rest for whatever they threw at us the next day, but the producers made it very clear they’d prefer to have us all together.

So I did my best to block out the sounds and laughter and focus on the history reading I’d brought with me. Part of me considered that I should be socializing, even if I didn’t drink. It was a TV show, after all. But ... I was tired and a little overwhelmed. Partying with drunks just didn’t sound good to me.

So I curled up in a fancy chair, which was so cushy that I nearly disappeared into it, and tried to make sense of the dense textbook chapter on the Antebellum South. But the noise of the lively party kept breaking my concentration. Someone turned on a radio, and pop hits were blasting. Laughter and shouted conversations carried over the thumping bass.

The longer I sat there, the louder it got, until a burst of raucous laughter made me lose my place. I looked up with a sigh to see a group of the contestants stumbling into the main room, red plastic cups in hand.

“Come on, let’s find some fun in this place!” one of them shouted, her words slightly slurred.

She had jet-black hair and smoky eye makeup, paired with a tiny black dress that left little to the imagination. I thought I remembered seeing her at the orientation thing, and she’d been dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, which meant she’d changed after we got here. The small herd cheered in response.

“Look at all these hotties just waiting for us!” the ringleader purred as she looked around the room.

I’d seen a lot of drunks in my life, and she wasn’t that drunk. She was hamming it up, very aware that a camera was on her. A few of the guys whooped and hollered, egging her on. I rolled my eyes. This was a singing competition, so what was the point of all this? I mean, wouldn’t they prefer to win and get the money and the contract, instead of going for that fifteen minutes of TV fame?

The woman began making her way around the room, getting handsy with any man in her path. I was happy to see there were some disgusted rejections, which meant not everyone was a complete loser, but there were also plenty of welcoming grabs in return. I grimaced and held my book up higher, willing myself to become invisible.

My luck remained constant ... all bad.

“Ooh, what do we have here?” I heard her say from a lot closer than she had been before.

I lowered my book to see her sauntering toward me, a predatory glint in her eye.

“Hey there, cutie. What’s your name?”

“Nuh, uh. No thanks,” I said, just wanting her to go away. “I’m just going to sit here and read.”

“Don’t be like that!” she said, running a long nail down my arm.

“Whoa, take it easy,” I said, holding up my hands. “I appreciate the offer, but I have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not here though, is she? What happens in the mansion stays in the mansion.”

She went to slide onto my lap and I quickly stood up, dropping my book.

“Seriously, I’m not interested,” I said firmly. “Why don’t you go back to the party?”

“What are you, gay or something?” Vince called out, to laughter from a handful of the other less serious competitors.

“I’m seventeen, which means I’m jailbait, if I guessed your age right. So ... unless you like prison...?”

That gave her pause. She looked me up and down, realization dawning on her face.

“Oh ... uh,” she said, backing away. “Have fun with your book, kid.”

I wasn’t sure I loved being called ‘kid,’ but as long as she left me alone, I was fine with it. Picking up my book, I sat back down and tried to find my place. The party ramped up as more people joined the drinking. The music grew louder, and people paired off, giggling and stumbling around.

I noticed Cole was one of the drinkers, although he wasn’t acting as drunk, fake or not, or as idiotic as some of them. I wasn’t going to hold that against him. I may not drink, but I wasn’t going to kill the buzz if others wanted to.

I gave up trying to study, with all the noise going on, and opted to just watch them until it was okay to head upstairs when I noticed one of the producers who’d been around when we’d gotten to the house that afternoon. He was a portly guy in a polo shirt and cargo shorts, and he was walking straight toward me.

“Hey there, Charlie,” he said, kneeling down so he was on my level. “I’m Mike. I know not everyone wants to get involved with this kind of thing on the first night, but we’d love it if you got a little more involved with the group. These early days are important for making connections with the audience, who are going to watch clips of everyone interacting throughout the first several weeks the show is on.”

While all of that made sense, I did not want to actually hang out with a bunch of drunks or around a bunch of drinking. While I could handle it when it was my friends, being close to drunk strangers gave me one too many flashbacks.

“I’m good here, thanks.”

Mike chuckled. “Come on, I know you’re smarter than that. Like I said, this is more than just a singing competition; it’s a reality show. Sure, we want good singers, but we also want big personalities. The fact is, most people vote based on emotion, and the ‘character’ they like the most, so standing out in the footage is going to be a big part in deciding who wins the live rounds.”

“So what should I be doing?”

“Work the room a little, make friends, drink with your castmates. That kind of thing.”

“You know I’m not twenty-one, right?” I said, hoping that would be enough to stop the drinking suggestions.

“Soda then, it doesn’t really matter. You have a red cup in your hand, people will assume what they assume, and you’ll be covered from any liabilities. Just make yourself seem personable; build your fanbase for when the live shows start.”