Singer - 14. Entertainment Mogul

Before Chipper caught his breath, and Carson joined him on stage, Blake spoke. “Why are Kelly and Alicia fanning themselves?”

Mock panting accompanied the women’s exaggerated hand movements “That’s ’cause that was hot!” Kelly’s reply elicited further audience cheering. “Chipper, we already knew you were a great singer. However, tonight… Wow! That was an incredible performance. My teenaged daughter’s watching, and I may have to do an intervention when I get home.”

The open microphone caught Daly’s words while he and Chipper bro-hugged. “JT’s gonna be proud of you.” His comment would prove prophetic. “Alicia, your thoughts?”

“That was the flyest of fly. Your voice and stage presence are gonna take you far, my friend. I bet there’s lots of women and a few men wiping drool off right now. Well done.”

Carson turned his attention to Chipper’s coach. “Adam?”

“Dude! That was like goat! You know I’m a fan. Been since the first day. We know you have what might be the best voice this season but tonight you proved you’re a star in the making. You busted moves out there Usher would be jealous of. You’re not just a singer, you’re an entertainer. America, this is the man you have to save tonight. If you put him through to the next round, we’re gonna work even harder. Chipper, no matter what happens you’re already a winner. I’m looking forward to your first album and hope you’ll allow me to be part of it.”

Once the show’s live broadcast began, the weekly schedule had contestants singing one night and results announced the next. On the second day, performances by coaches and guests alternated with announcements of who would advance.

“If the remaining artists would join me on stage…” Daly had already announced three people moving on. Chipper had been delighted when Bliss was the first one. “I have the names of the next three individuals moving on in the competition.”

“From Team Blake…” Each revelation was drawn out while contestants agonized, waiting to hear their name. “Angie Jennings!”

None of the other hopefuls appeared surprised. Angie was a pretty blonde from Texas whose performance of an old Loretta Lynn tune had been very good.

“The next person advancing…” Those remaining on stage held hands; Chipper realized his palm was as sweaty as the one of the man next to him. “From Team Adam…” The three remaining teammates drew closer, and the lone female wrapped her arms around the other two’s waists. “Chipper!”

When he heard his name, Chipper had the presence of mind to hug his teammates, bow, and wave at the audience. Moving to the side of the stage to join the others advancing to the quarterfinals, his thoughts were already on next week’s performance. The remainder of the show was a blur.

Although he had only six days to get ready for the stage again, Chipper felt confident the following morning. His next number was one he knew well, and he would be alone on stage; no need for endless rehearsals of dance moves. He had compiled a playlist of all the songs he had performed on the show and the ones to come; it was what he listened to while on the treadmill at the fitness center.

When done, he at last checked to see who had texted him. The phone number he did not recognize, but the 310 area code told him it was local.

--Hey Chipper Greg Nalbo here--

That solved the mystery of who it was.

--Caught the show last night Congrats—

Maybe Nalbo was not as creepy as he thought. That was nice of him.

--We need to celebrate Let me take you to lunch Friday--

Chipper was not sure he wanted to see the man again. Greg gave off bad vibes.

--We can talk about how you’ll fit into my organization—

Presumptuous ass was what Chipper thought.

--And what TMZ would do if they got hold of these pictures--

The two images shocked Chipper and made him look around to ensure he was alone. One showed Bryce with a straw next to his nose above a line of white powder; Chipper and Zion were visible in the background. The other one showed the three of them naked in Greg’s shower.

“Motherfucker!” Uttering the word in a venomous tone, Chipper rushed out of the locker room so he could be alone. He found the solitude he sought in the single-user restroom of the coffee shop across the street. Locking the door, he sat while trying to calm down.

He was unsure how the show’s producers would react to the obvious blackmail attempt. He decided to call for reinforcements.

“Hey, Chipper. Good morning.” Ethan’s voice was a balm for Chipper’s frayed nerves. His fellow Squad member would know what to do.

“Sorry to bother you so early, bud.” The time difference meant it was around nine on the East Coast.

“Bah! I’ve been in here since seven. Nice show last night!”

“Thanks. I need help.” For the next fifteen minutes, Chipper recounted meeting Bryce and Zion at Coachella, the pool party at Nalbo’s mansion, and Greg’s messages. He forwarded all of them and the pictures to his friend in New York.

“Motherfucker!” Ethan’s reaction made Chipper chuckle for the first time since reading the messages.

“Exactly what I said when I got them.”

Ethan sounded serious when he next spoke. “Who else knows about this? Did you tell your two friends?”

“Fuck no! Nobody knows. This just happened while I was at the gym. I ran out and called you.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way for now. Have you talked to Miles since I gave you his name and number?” Miles Abramonov was a lawyer in the Los Angeles office of Ethan’s firm.

“Nope. Haven’t needed to.”

“Well, hang on. I think it’s time you met. Let me turn this into a conference call. Miles will know what to do about our entertainment mogul.”