Travis Starnes
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Center Stage - Chapter 25
🕑 Added 2024-07-01 14:00:06 +0000 UTCThe next few weeks passed more or less uneventfully, for me at least. UNC was in an uproar. Although the reasoning wasn’t made public, Kat said the sudden firing of Cross had created a huge commotion across campus. Everyone knew about his dating students and the public spectacle Hanna had put on, so it wasn’t hard to figure out, and most of the student body had more or less worked it out themselves.
At first, Hanna was very nervous about all the attention, but when it turned out most of that attention was supportive, since his being fired all but vindicated her, especially with the fact that she was back and no longer expelled. Kat said it was still a little strange, and random strangers would come talk to Hanna, but after a week it mostly died down.
Things had more or less died down for me at school too. Not completely, since the market for the EP had ramped up for the last two weeks, especially on streaming music sites, so my name was out there a lot, but at least the talk about my advance and being a millionaire had slowed.
I’d entered into a new kind of normal that, I hoped, would last until graduation. I wasn’t touring until this summer. We were doing more weekend shows, being flown out to places like Houston, Seattle, and Miami, which was going to be fun. They were bigger than anything I’d done before signing with ARC, but they weren’t at huge venues like I’d done on the Stage tour, with the largest of these venues capping out at about seventy-five hundred people.
We’d also been working a lot during the week, getting new songs prepared so we could have enough for a full album. Hal had said if the EP did well, he’d be interested in a new album, and we would put the songs from the EP on it, so we only needed between eleven and twelve songs, which was still a lot.
Today was release day for the EP, and as soon as the bell rang, I’d grabbed my stuff and dashed for the door. Part of me had wanted to skip school so I could stay home and obsessively refresh the streaming numbers. Mrs. Phillips had all but put her foot down, so I’d been stuck checking it between classes and at lunch, but it was hard. The band, several of my friends, and Warren were all gathering at the house this afternoon to watch the streaming numbers and see what people were saying. Warren and the band had been there for hours, and Mrs. Phillips had taken the day off, so it was all I could do to focus through the last few classes.
Everyone was huddled around the living room when I got home, looking at laptops and phones.
“What did I miss?” I asked as I burst through the door.
“We’re climbing fast, Charlie. Like, scary fast,” Lyla said, looking up from her phone.
I dropped my bag and wedged myself between Seth and Lyla on the couch. Seth tilted his laptop screen towards me, showing the weekly top ten chart.
“They added us to the chart about an hour ago at number eight,” Seth said. “We’re now at four and still rising. Ronnie Ralston and Trisha Loren both dropped new albums this week though, and their numbers are scary big. They’re numbers one and two, and I’m not sure we can break past them.”
Warren was pacing behind the couch, his ear glued to the phone, talking to someone.
“What about Julie?”
Julie had an EP come out two days before, which seemed really calculated. It felt like GLR saw our marketing and decided to try and get ahead of us, with her marketing almost completely focused on her time on The Stage and her performances on the Stage tour.
As of that morning, she hadn’t broken the top fifty, but she was slowly gaining, and could have been a problem.
“Stalled out at number forty-eight,” Lyla said, grinning.
I know I shouldn’t be rooting for someone else’s failure, but trying to sneak past our EP was a dirty move. Besides, Julie was the kind of person I didn’t feel bad beating.
“Serves them right,” Seth said.
I waved him off. No reason to start being catty, even if it was in private. The doorbell rang and half the lunch group was there, with Payton, Cameron, Jake, and Joseph.
“Damn, maybe stop at some stop signs,” Cameron said as he came inside and dropped his backpack next to mine.
“Charlie?” Mrs. Phillips said, looking at me, to which I just shrugged.
Who could blame me? I was excited.
“Where are you?” Payton said, sitting down next to Lyla.
We were all kind of smashed in with way more kids on a couch than it could hold. Joseph and Jake were forced to sit on either arm of the couch.
“Number Seven on the top one-hundred and number three on the rock chart. And still climbing,” Seth said.
It was hard to fathom. Number seven was almost seventeen million streams. Thinking that my song, in one day, had been played seventeen million times was mind-blowing. That was a big number. It had also mostly happened in the last hour. Quinn had told us that the majority of daily streaming numbers happened in the afternoon through early evening, and that was playing out. When I’d been at lunch, we’d been in the lower fifty with only about a million streams, which is as high as any of my songs had gotten before.
I hadn’t seen anything yet. For the next several hours, we watched in disbelief as our EP climbed higher with tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of streams added to the number every minute. Every time we would move up, everyone a spot on the chart everyone would scream and cheer and hug. And it didn’t stop.
“Number three!” Lyla called out, causing another round of cheers. “We’re just behind Trisha and Ronnie.”
“Ten million behind,” I pointed out, but it was crazy.
They were gaining numbers too, but both of theirs had come out almost six days ago, so their gain rate had really slowed.
“Guys, check this out,” Peyton said, holding up her phone. “Billboard just tweeted about us. ‘Newcomer Charlie Nelson’s debut EP challenges industry veterans for top spot.’“
“Holy shit,” Seth muttered.
“Language,” Mrs. Phillips warned, but she was smiling too.
My phone buzzed with a text from Benny. ‘Kid, you’re making me look good. Keep it up.’
“Quinn says you’ve added almost a million followers on Widget,” Warren said, looking at his phone.
We were hyped. Everyone was joking and laughing, and we were playing the EP on a loop in the background. Our streams were a drop in the bucket when talking about millions of streams, but I wasn’t above trying to do anything, even that little, to nudge them.
Another hour passed, and our gain rate was still accelerating.
Mrs. Phillips was ordering pizza when Cameron shouted, “You just passed Trisha and Ronnie. You’re number one!”
The room exploded. Seth bear-hugged me, nearly knocking me off the couch. Lyla jumped up and started jumping up and down in the most girly move I’d ever seen. The noise level was deafening.
Surprisingly, End of the Blues had also hit number one on the Rock and Blues charts and number fifteen in the overall chart, beating out both Ashes and Sand which sat at number four and Dirty Little Secrets which was at number two. Lyla was almost crazed with the idea that her song was number two, and I was happy I’d stuck to my guns with Tan. I couldn’t help but wonder how good Ashes and Sand would have done had he not changed it. Not that it was bad. People were definitely liking it.
My phone rang. It was Hal.
“Charlie, my boy!” Hal said, although I could barely hear him over everyone else’s noise. “How does it feel to have the number one EP in the country and number one and two on the rock one hundred?”
“Unreal,” I admitted. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. You’ve earned this. We’ll talk soon about next steps. For now, enjoy the moment.”
Texts were flooding in from people I’d met on The Stage, from Dexter and Dakota, from Linda and Eli. I even got a very nice text from Alina and Emerson, who wanted to know when I could set up another interview.
“Guys, listen to this review,” Seth said, reading from his laptop. “‘Charlie Nelson’s debut EP is a raw, emotional journey that showcases a maturity beyond his years. From the haunting ‘Ashes and Sand’ to the bluesy swagger of ‘The End of the Blues,’ Nelson proves he’s more than just another reality show winner. This is an artist with something to say.’“
“This one at least mentions us,” Lyla said, nudging me with an elbow. “Nelson and his band deserve special mention, as it’s easy to hear the chemistry between the three of them that elevates their music, creating a sound that’s both polished and authentically gritty.’“
I did feel a little bad that every social media post and review was written as if I was the only one performing. Thankfully, Lyla and Seth took it in good stride.
Mrs. Phillips disappeared into the kitchen, returning with flutes of bubbling tan drink. She had separated them out, handing Warren, Lyla, and Seth one from one group and the rest of us ones from the other. Sniffing it, I confirmed that mine was ginger ale, which looked surprisingly like what I assume was the champagne the adults had.
“I think this calls for a toast,” she said.
I raised mine and said, “To Lyla and Seth. I couldn’t have done this without you guys. And to the rest of you. I can’t believe we got here, and we couldn’t have done it without all of your support.”
Everyone cheered and drank down.
The doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of our celebratory feast. Mrs. Phillips excused herself to retrieve the pizzas. I couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear. Kat was in swim practice, which was really getting serious as she got close to the Olympics, but I’d already texted her a dozen times as we’d moved up spots.
Mrs. Phillips returned, her arms laden with steaming pizza boxes. But something was off. Her face had lost its color, and she clutched a piece of paper in her hand.
I pushed myself off the couch and toward her, taking the pizza boxes and setting them down on the side table.
“What’s wrong?”
She tried to hide the paper behind her back, but I’d already seen it. “It’s nothing, Charlie. Don’t worry about-”
“If it’s nothing, why are you acting like that?” I stepped closer, holding out my hand. “Let me see it.”
Mrs. Phillips hesitated, then reluctantly handed over the paper. “It was taped to the door.”
It was long and messy, hard to read in whoever’s handwriting it was. The more I read, the tighter the knot forming in my stomach got.
“What is it?” Lyla asked, noticing the interplay between Mrs. Phillips and me.
I was still reading, trying to work out the handwriting and the rambling, almost nonsensical sentences. “It’s … I think it’s a threat. It’s really confusing. Something about I was supposed to say something or do something, but I didn’t. It’s … he’s really angry and threatening really specific stuff.”
The celebratory mood evaporated instantly.
“That’s not the scary part,” Mrs. Phillips said softly.
She was right. My eyes landed on a paragraph detailing my daily routine - where I went, who I talked to, even what I ate for lunch yesterday at school.
“How do they know all this?”
“We need to call Isaiah,” Warren said, taking the letter out of my hand.
The letter only mentioned me, thankfully. When it did mention any of my friends, or even the band, it did so by description and used them almost as reference points. It was very clear everything in this was directed at me.
Warren was reading the letter over, and making the same face Mrs. Phillips made. It was clear, this wasn’t like the earlier threats. This one was serious.
My hands were shaking as I dialed Isaiah’s number.
“Isaiah? It’s Charlie. We’ve got a situation.”
I think he could hear the fear in my voice because he said, “What happened?”
“Someone left a letter taped to our door and … it’s pretty messed up.”
“What does it say?”
“It’s hard to read. The handwriting’s all over the place. There’s this long section about how I was meant to say something. It’s really rambly and angry.”
“Read that part to me,” Isaiah said.
“Yeah, um, it says: ‘You were meant to speak the truth, Charlie. To tell them all what really happened. But you lied. You let them believe you’re some kind of hero.’ That’s not the scary part though. Later it says ‘I’ve been watching you. I know your sins. I know what you did.’ When he says he’s been watching me, he really has. He has a section talking about when I go to school, when I’m at practice, even who I eat lunch with and what I ate yesterday. How could he have been in the school? Is this someone I know?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible, although the wording suggests it’s not someone actively in your life. When you send me the letter, I’ll have some of our consultants look it over and do a profile on it.”
“It says he’s coming for me and that I can’t hide behind my fame. He … it’s very specific about what he wants to do to me. He keeps calling me a sacrifice.”
“I know it’s scary, but we’ll take care of it. For now, don’t move,” Isaiah said, his tone deadly serious. “Nobody leaves that house tonight. I mean it, Charlie. Not you, not Mrs. Phillips, not anyone.”
“What about Seth and Lyla? They’re here with us.”
Isaiah paused. “I’ll call Sheriff Gibbs and arrange escorts for them. But you stay put until I get there in the morning.”
“What about school?”
“Call in sick. Let them know you won’t be in tomorrow. I don’t want you going anywhere until we’ve assessed the threat.”
“Got it,” I said, my throat tight.
“Your house is well secured, Charlie, and they left the note, which means they’re ramping up to whatever they’re going to do. Nothing’s going to happen tonight and we’ll figure this out.”
“Okay,” I said, hanging up.
I hung up and looked at the worried faces around me. The excitement from earlier felt like a distant memory.
“What did he say?” Mrs. Phillips asked.
“That he’ll be here in the morning and that we’re not to leave until he gets here. He wants me to call in sick for school tomorrow and said he was going to call Sheriff Gibbs to get escorts home for everyone here.
We waited as everyone got escorted home by the sheriff and his deputies. The party atmosphere was completely gone and the pizzas went uneaten. We all just kind of sat around, not saying anything. Terrified. I called Kat and Hanna, telling them what had happened and pressing them both to stay in their dorms and have friends walk them to and from class, and to absolutely not go out at night.
I couldn’t believe it. What a way to end such an amazing day.
Comments
Phil
I would think that is kind of late in the last book to bring in a major branch in the plot. Campbell seems to be a logical choice unless it is a random crazy or a student who is mentally ill but undiagnosed.
James Bartling
If I had to guess Harry and his crew would have the ability to gather intel inside the school. I would put DA Campbell as a candidate to go after Charlie and use harry and company to gather intel. VP packer does not seem like a leading candidate as he always went after Charlie at the behest of others. Cross has not had the time to go after Charlie. Vince and company are to far away to go after him. So my vote is DA using Harry for intel. Or I could be full of it but it is fun to speculate. I discount Marco.
Phil
Yeah, what about all of this fancy security and house monitoring that is costing Charlie thousands of dollars? Inquiring minds want to know! :-)
James Bartling
security cameras at the front door?
