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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Singer - 24. Original Song

Although Chipper performed last in the initial rotation, he had the second spot in the subsequent one. The time between numbers would be limited. Before taking off the tuxedo, he retrieved his phone and posted a picture with a three-word message: VOTE FOR ME! He added a few hashtags and a link to the show’s website.

While a hairstylist sprayed dry-shampoo on himthey needed to remove the product used to slick it backChipper watched the silenced monitor in the room. One of the projects keeping him busy since reaching the finale was shooting a car commercial. It aired as the stylist brushed and tied back his hair.

The advertisement was taped the day after the finalists were announced. All remaining artists had practiced individually for a couple of weeks. How long the process took was surprising. The four trudged into a studio in the morning to record the commercial’s song. Wardrobe, hair, and makeup followed before they faced the camera. Countless takes over several hours ended up edited into the sixty-second spot now being shown.

“Can you turn up the volume?” Chipper wanted to hear the performances. Carson had introduced Bliss and her coach for their duet. The Philadelphia woman’s voice soared through high notes, eliciting audience applause “Damn! She’s good.” Everyone in the dressing room nodded. “I have my work cut out for me.”

 

His time in front of cameras was not over after filming the commercial; the crew followed him and Adam into the studio when Chipper recorded the original song he would perform in the finale. It would air immediately before he went back on stage.

“That was good, dude. I want you to try something on the next take.” The TV screen showed Adam sitting next to Chipper at a control board. Behind it, a pane of glass revealed the small soundproof room Chipper had just vacated. “I want you to put more vibrato in the last chorus. And when you say ‘shout,’ do exactly that. Let’s give the audience a jolt.”

Chipper smiled at his coach. “You mean you want my voice to tremble when I say ‘tremble?’”

“Yes, smartass. That’s exactly what I mean.” Adam chuckled and grabbed Chipper’s shoulder. “It’s a great song, buddy. This could be the first hit out of your first album.”

 

Chipper walked onto the darkened stage wiping his hands on his pants; the nervous sweat underneath his arms he could do nothing about. He had kept the formal shirt on, rolled up the sleeves, and opened it halfway down his torso. The tuxedo pants he replaced with black stretch jeans, and the velvet formal pumps with black, sparkling athletic shoestwins to the red ones he had previously worn.

Staring at the ground, Chipper caught sight of Carson standing on one of the runways radiating from the stage. “Singing the original song ‘Talk to Me’, here’s Chipper!”

As the band played the opening bars, instinct took over. The jitters disappeared, and he focused on the lyrics. His voice rang out clear and strong.

 

Do you remember the joy of connection?
Finding a spark that would kindle the fire?
Burning, consuming, exploding our senses,
marking us both with the flames that inspire?

Talk to me, cry with me
tremble and shout;
sit with me, hand-hold me,
don't shut me out;
sing to me, swear by me,
never leave room for a shadow of doubt.

Connecting to the emotional song and conveying the feeling to the audience was his goal. Chipper wanted anyone listening to get lost in the lyrics and the music.

Tell me what happened, what fallacy said,
tell me why you wouldn't stay;
tell me the reason my days are all dead,
tell me why you went away -

Talk to me, cry with me
tremble and shout;
sit with me, hand-hold me,
don't shut me out;
sing to me, swear by me,
never leave room for a shadow of doubt.

Chipper felt the sadness and pleading as if they were real. The usually boisterous crowd sat enthralled as he moved toward the front row. Extending a hand to a girl clutching both of hers over her heart, he watched a tear trickle down her face.

 

Are you ashamed of the hours spent together?
Face turned away from the bright rising sun?
Will you forever live deep in the shadow
of bleak expectation till everything's done?

Talk to me, cry with me
tremble and shout;
sit with me, hand-hold me,
don't shut me out;
sing to me, swear by me,
never leave room,
no, never leave room,
never leave room for a shadow of doubt.

Each chorus repetition felt more anguished, and the audience responded accordingly. Chipper noticed more than one person holding tissues. He had forged a visceral connection with the audience. . Drained and exhausted, Chipper appeared lost.

The crowd reacted enthusiastically; along with the coaches, they stood applauding for what felt like a long time. The ovation at last diminished when Carson joined him on stage.

“Wow! That was amazing! You have me ready to cry. Good job, Chipper.” The host turned to the coaches and pointed at Blake. “What do you have to say, Cowboy?”

“What can I say that I haven’t already said? You’re a star, Chipper. That was intense. More emotional than anything else you’ve done, and it showcased your range. Pop tunes, Spanish numbers, moving ballads… Seems to me whatever you tackle you conquer. I’m kinda scared you may start singing country.”

Carson chuckled at the comment. “Thank you, Blake Shelton. Kelly Clarkson!”

“I’m a wreck. My makeup’s ruined! Oh, man, that was heart wrenching. You may as well forget a long career recording and touring, Chipper. You might be the first contestant in The Voice history ready for Vegas. I want opening night tickets and backstage passes.”

“Adam?”

“Dope, man. Dope! I’ll have more to say later. America, this is the man to vote for!”

 

Talk to Me lyrics Copyright © 2019 Parker Owens
All Rights Reserved – Used by Permission

Copyright © 2019 Carlos Hazday; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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