Perfect Harmony (Forever Wicked 16)

Perfect Harmony (Forever Wicked)
Megan Slayer
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Megan Slayer

“Forever in my heart.” Camryn sang the line of his solo and stepped out of the spotlight. The setlist only contained two songs featuring him, and one song had been cut. He continued to dance, but his spirits broke. He loved being part of the vocal group, Low Down, but he hated being pushed to the periphery. His voice wasn’t as loud, even with the mic, as his bandmates’. His dance skills were on point, but if the band wanted another dancer, they’d hire a back-up group. He added his harmonies and forced a smile.

Women screamed and grabbed at the group from the edge of the stage. Playing to a packed concert wasn’t bad, but Camryn wasn’t fond of concert tours on cruise ships. He’d never have signed on, but the group needed money.

Camryn enjoyed being part of the band, but the crying and clawing hands from the crowd bothered him. Why did people want to grab him? Some women threw panties or roses, and others threw balled paper with phone numbers and hotel room numbers. They had no idea he wasn’t interested.

He smiled to hide his discomfort. He wasn’t attracted to girls and never had been. He wanted to wear their clothes and hang out, but not sleep with them. The fans of Low Down wouldn’t want him to be gay. They wanted the fantasy.

He finished the song and when the lights dimmed, he ran off stage to catch a breather before the encore.

“Good show.” Alexander, the moody one, clapped Camryn on the shoulder. “You weren’t loud enough again.”

“He’s never loud enough, but his heart’s in it.” Jake, the sporty one, grinned. He whipped his headband off and shot it toward Alexander. “Don’t sweat it.”

“God. If he ever sang loud enough and we had the proper balance, we’d have a fun sound,” Alexander said. “We might be back on the top of the charts, too.”

“I sing loud,” Camryn said, embarrassed. He thought he’d improved over the four years since the vocal group had been formed.

Clint, the tattooed one, shrugged. “We’ve got our roles. He’s the quiet one. Lay off.”

Did Clint understand? Camryn hoped so.

“Might be better without him, though,” Clint said. “A foursome might be a better showcase.”

Camryn froze. Wait… what? A foursome? They’d leave him behind?

Sani, the cute one, nodded. He touched Camryn’s arm and cocked his head. “Clint’s an ass because he’s being blunt, but he’s honest and not wrong. We can’t hear you, you don’t have many leading riffs, the girls love you and you don’t love them… maybe it’s time to move on. You’re not happy. Why not strike out on your own?”

The other three members chimed in with, “Yeah.”

Camryn wanted to shatter. How could they do this to him? He composed himself. They couldn’t see him crack. Not now. So they’d picked a strange time to tell him he should go… A split might be good, but why say something now? “You want me to bow out, right? Why would you do it while we’re on a damn cruise ship? I’m stuck here. I have to hide, and that’s nuts. Won’t the fans notice I’m not on stage? Won’t they care I’m not with the band during our publicity stunts? This makes no sense.”

“Cam, we’ve talked about this a bunch of times,” Sani said. “We love you, but we’re ready to move on. We want girls, not gays.”

“Sani.” His heart lodged in his throat. He never thought his band mates would be this cruel.

“Lay low. Hide. Whatever. Hell, get drunk. It’ll make you more exciting,” Clint said. “We’re gonna do the encore, and you stay here. We’ll say you’re ill.”

His stomach churned. If he wasn’t careful, he’d puke. How could they do this to him? He’d put in his time with the band. “It’s cold.”

“So? The fans won’t think it’s a big deal if they think you’re sick. We’ll survive this, and you’ll fade out.” Alexander shrugged. “We need a new approach.”

“Survive?” He sank onto the arm of the sofa and bit back bile. The band had been blunt before -- when they fought against Clint having tattooed his arms, chest and throat, when Sani changed his haircut and when Jake lost weight to be sportier -- but nothing like this. Camryn held up both hands. “You know what, whatever.” He picked up his jacket and shook his head. “Enjoy. I hope it goes well. I’m sorry I’ve held you back.”

“Not back.” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. “This got colder and asshole-ier than it should’ve. I’m sorry.” He gestured to the other guys, shoving them onto the stage. He turned his attention to Camryn. “We know you aren’t happy and you’re anxious on stage. We thought it would be okay if you took a break. I never meant for you to be gone for good. You’re quiet, but you add to the group. They thought it’d be better if we split for a while and tried a four-top. I’m not okay with it, but it’s three against two. I’m sorry,” he said. “Why don’t you come out with us? One last show for the good times? Right now?”

“No.” He knew when to bow out. “Knock ‘em dead. They came for a concert. Give the crowd the best.”

“Cam.” Jake frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Apparently not enough to rethink this or to fight for me. You all could’ve said something before the tour. Hell, you could’ve said something before we fucking left shore.” He swept his gaze over the room. He’d need to clean up his things and leave the back way before the concert concluded. “Go. The crowd is restless.”

Besides, he wanted time alone.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Jake said. “I’ll check on you.”

Clint rushed to the side of the stage. “Where the fuck are you?” He glared at Camryn. “Whatever. Sorry.”

Jake hesitated. “I’m still your friend and I’m here if you need me. Give this time and it’ll sort itself out.”

“Thanks.” He was being too nice by choice. Camryn refused to let the band see him crack again. “Good luck.”

Jake nodded, then when the music swelled, he joined the rest of the band on the stage.

Camryn waited until the lights went up, then gathered his things. He didn’t want to witness this any longer. They’d kicked him out. They’d been cold and raw. He shoved his photos and mementos into his jacket before he darted up the back staircase to the bank of suites. He ducked into his suite.

A note waited on the bed.

Christ. He dropped his stuff onto the mattress and picked up the letter.

Sorry, buddy. We’ve always said all for one and one for all. I got voted down and so did Jake. The guys and Rex want to have four. The suite is yours until we dock in a week. I’m happy to rep you as a single artist. Just keep out of sight.

Daniel

Gee-fucking-whiz. Happy to rep him. Yeah… no. When had the bastard written this? Was he planning to can Camryn all along? Would’ve been nice if Daniel had said something before now and not in a damn note. Camryn wanted separation. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in the music business. He needed a fresh start.

He strode out to the balcony of his suite. No one roamed the decks. Everyone must’ve been at the concert. He shouldn’t be surprised. The cruise had sold out and was sold out for the next three excursions. He wouldn’t be along, though. Most of the fans didn’t want to see him. They wanted the others. Fine.

He stared out at the darkness of Lake Erie. Jesus. He was on a cruise around Lake Fucking Erie. He’d grown up in Cleveland and wasn’t fazed by the lake. He also didn’t see the attraction. The band could’ve chosen to cruise the Keys or the Bahamas and they’d picked… Lake Erie. Then again, the band wasn’t the powerhouse they’d been a year ago. The music business had shifted. Vocal groups who danced weren’t popular. Chanteuses were. Singer-songwriters who sat alone on stage with a guitar were in vogue. He couldn’t blame the band for wanting to chase the spotlight and keep the fans.

The best way to keep the fans was to go to them… and cruise Lake Erie.

He drank in the darkness of the water and sighed. The lines of his longest solo came to mind. He sang the song. Who cared if he wasn’t on stage? He wasn’t sick any longer, but heartsick.

“I’m looking for my special one. The one who makes me come undone,” he sang. “Who sees me to my core, who can’t love me even more.”

He’d written those words for his high-school crush. Taye never knew he’d been the object of Camryn’s affection. How could he? Camryn hadn’t come out, and Taye wasn’t homosexual.

He sang the lines again. The music wasn’t gone, and he still loved to sing. He might not be the loudest, but he had a rich sound. Honeyed, he’d been told.

Another sound caught his attention. Someone was singing with him. He paused. Were the guys coming upstairs? Were they in another suite? Coming onto the deck?

The song came to him again. Low, honeyed like him, but sadder.

He sang the lines of the song a third time. The voice mixed with his, making beautiful harmony. Natural harmony. He stopped singing. Where was the vocalist?

He moved to the edge of his balcony and searched the visible parts of the decks for the singer. No people came into view.

“Where are you?” Camryn asked. “Who are you?” He would love to meet this vocalist. “Hello?”