Center Stage
Copyright© 2025 by Lumpy
Chapter 33
I leaned back in the cushioned chair and closed my eyes for a minute. The party had gone late the night before, with Kat and I not being able to escape until almost two in the morning, and Quinn had me on a call at six am for the first of dozens of call-in interviews I was scheduled to do that morning, and then hustled out for the midday taping of the show that would air that night.
My friends had all stayed in town to see the show and were flying back the next day and, because they were here, Lyla and Seth would be able to back me when I played on the show but wouldn’t get to come to the couch to talk to Hayden. While I was trying to make sure they got mentioned, we all knew that was how it was going to go.
Even as tired as I was feeling, the difference in this appearance on the show and the last one was so jarringly opposite it was like being slapped in the face. The moment I got to the sound stage, everyone I came in contact with said hello to me, telling me how much they liked the new album, and telling me to tell Kat good luck. On the last visit, there were times I thought I was in the wrong place with how most people didn’t seem to know who I was.
It didn’t stop there.
Instead of a small closet of a dressing room with a small card with my name handwritten on it taped to the door, I was in a large dressing room with a full couch and comfy chair, a TV, a big, mirrored table against the wall, and my name printed and framed on some kind of laminated card.
Inside the room, they had this big fruit basket with my name on it, which was crazy wasteful because it wasn’t like I was going to be there more than an hour or two. The poor kid in me was wondering how I was going to haul the thing back with me, and a little appalled at their wastefulness.
I’d decided to just ignore it and to close my eyes for a bit instead. For a little bit, at least, I was on my own, as Seth went to talk to the band and Lyla said she wanted to go meet them too. Which meant I could have a short nap. I’d only managed about five minutes of that before someone knocked on my door.
“Come in,” I called out.
To my surprise, Hayden Brooks, who hadn’t given me the time of day when the cameras were off the last time I was here, walked in.
“Charlie! I just wanted to stop by and say it’s great to have you here. We’re thrilled to finally have you on the show.”
It was all I could do to keep my face neutral, “Uhh ... thanks, although I was on a few months ago.”
“Of course, of course! And it was fantastic. I meant since your new album has come out, of course.”
It was shocking that no one had called him out on this, since I had no doubt that this was what he was like all the time. But I had an unfortunate sense this was what the whole industry was like, and I couldn’t see an upside to trying to buck it.
“Well, I appreciate the invitation to come back.”
“I heard Trey Mitchell came by your party; do you two know each other?”
“Uhh ... We met when he was part of a challenge I had when I was on The Stage, but we were together only briefly. I was as surprised he came as anyone else, and he only stayed for a few minutes. Honestly, I think it was mostly for the photo op.”
“Huh ... I should have thought of that. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get him back on the show and hoped you could get us in contact.”
There it was. I was wondering why he was schmoozing. I was sure part of it was because I was no longer an unheard-of reality TV show winner, but that hadn’t been enough for him to be hanging out chatting with me.
“Sorry. I’m actually not sure how to get in contact with him.”
That wasn’t true, but I figured he’d know how to contact Trey’s agent, which is all I could do.
“Hey, I get it. No problem. I’ve gotta go get set up for the show, but we’ll see you out there.”
Seeing I couldn’t do anything for him, he took off. I just shook my head. These people were unbelievable.
I sat back down and somehow fell asleep waiting for the show to start and my part to begin. I wasn’t sure when I’d fallen asleep, but a loud rapping on the door jerked me awake. I’d expected Lyla and Seth to come back and wake me up, so I was surprised to see the TV in the corner of the room showing a guest talking to Hayden on the couch.
“Mr. Nelson, you’re on in ten,” a woman said.
Which meant I needed to hurry and find the other two and get set up. I looked around and didn’t see my guitar, and started to freak out. I ran out of the room and started asking every PA I could find if someone had been in the green room, but no one had seen anyone. I was screwed.
I ran up, looking for Lyla and Seth, hoping they were still near the curtained-off area where they would have set up Seth’s drum kit. I was pissed at myself. I was supposed to be a professional, which meant being where I needed to be on time. Not sleeping until showtime and losing my fucking guitar.
I came running into the area, to see Lyla and Seth just hanging around the equipment, waiting. On a stand next to Lyla’s bass was my guitar.
“Well, look who made it,” Lyla said with a laugh.
“Thank God. I thought you guys were coming back to the green room when you finished!”
“We did, and you were passed out, dude,” Seth said. “You’ve been pushing yourself like crazy lately, and we decided we should let you get some rest. We’re all set up here and you’re tuned up.”
I calmed down. While I appreciated their setting up, I would have preferred that they didn’t scare the hell out of me like that again. But they were trying to be kind, so what the hell.
“Ready?” one of the PAs said.
We all got into our places just as the lights dropped.
“And now, performing a song from his new album, Unexpected Paths, please welcome Charlie Nelson!”
We’d decided to go with “Appalachia Warrior,” the regular version, both because it was a little different than our other stuff, and it was the first song on the new album. This made it seem like a good fit for an introduction on the show.
The crowd loved it. Even without the banjo, it still had a folksy, mountain feel to it that worked really well in this setting, as opposed to something with a heavy rock focus like Dirty Little Secrets that did better in big, open concert venues.
The crowd was into it and we got a standing ovation at the end, which seemed to be pretty standard for a talk show performance, but which I appreciated anyway.
As we’d pre-arranged, I left the others, who would start packing our stuff up when the curtain closed, as I made my way over to the seat next to Hayden’s desk.
He talked a little bit to me, mostly just about who else he might know that was at the party, until they counted us down and we were back from the commercial break.
“Wow. Charlie. That was really something.”
“Thanks, Hayden. I’m just happy to be back.”
“Your new album dropped yesterday and already the buzz around it is pretty strong. Do you think you’re going to hit number one with this one?”
“I have no idea. Honestly, this is the first thing I’ve done, at least the first album that was widely released, so I’m not even sure what to expect. But really, I’m just happy if people enjoy it.”
“But you have to have some sense. Your EP got close to number one on the singles chart, which has to bode well for the album.”
“So my manager tells me.”
“And I understand it’s a big departure from your last work.”
“I don’t think it’s so much of a big departure as it is more focused than what we did before. Country Roads was really a first for my entire band, so we were kind of winging it. With this new album, we’re a lot more focused and had an actual idea behind it as a whole, as opposed to just songs we liked.”
“And you’re heading out on tour soon, right?”
“Yeah, we kick off in a month, after the Olympics wraps up. We’re hitting eight cities over four weeks, including Madison Square Garden. We’re all pretty excited.”
“You mentioned how different your last album was. Do you think that’s because you’re working with ARC Records now? Was there something about your previous label that held you back from how high you’ve managed to climb?”
The bait on that hook couldn’t have been any more obvious, and in spite of all the animosity between myself and MAC, I wasn’t going to go on TV and start badmouthing anyone. There didn’t seem to be any upside to doing that.
“Every label is different. ARC has been fantastic, really supportive of our vision. I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had with both labels.”
“Diplomatic answer,” Hayden chuckled. “Now, you mentioned the Olympics. I understand you’re dating a swimmer. How do you think she’s going to do in Tokyo?”
“I think she’s going to get gold. She may be the best athlete I’ve ever seen, and I’m just happy that I’ll get to be there to support her.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a busy summer ahead of you! We’ll be right back with Charlie Nelson after this break.”
Unlike the last time, Hayden then made more small talk, instead of ignoring me, and they didn’t hustle me off stage to make room for the next guest. I spent the rest of the show one seat down, watching him interview the next person, who was an actor in some new horror movie I hadn’t heard of.”
The music industry might have been brutal, but it was nowhere as ridiculous as Hollywood, and it made me glad I wasn’t an actor!
We made it back to Wellsville, and the week was mostly spent doing call-in interviews and marketing the album. I did get home Sunday in time to play one last gig at the Blue Ridge before we left, with Cole this time, which was exciting.
Alina had also come home with us, saying she’d told her management she was taking the month off to be with her friends. I was a little surprised by this, since that was a long time for someone of her status to not be working, but she said it’s the first vacation she has ever taken, and she’d come to realize there was more to life than just working, constantly out there selling herself.
After a week of interviews, I could feel her pain. It was draining, especially since every day Quinn piled more onto my already full schedule. Not that I begrudged her, since that was her job, but it was a lot to deal with when all I really wanted to do was play music.
The other thing that surprised me about Alina’s staying to visit was that Kat, who she’d formed maybe the closest friendship with, wasn’t there. She spent the week back at school, using their facilities to get as much final training time in as she could. I barely got to talk to her. She was spending up to twelve hours a day in the pool and was so tired by nighttime that she could barely form a sentence.