Her eyes were wide, but instead of outright believing me, she asked, “May I see your ID please?”

After I handed it to her, she gasped. “Oh my God, it is you. You realize this is a contest to replace you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. Can I fill out the forms?”

“Oh, yes, yes…” She handed them my way. Once I began working on them, she asked, “Can we get a testimonial? Before your audition.” When I looked up at her, she said, “Just a little something we can use for the broadcast, to help the audience get to know you. Not that they don’t already know you.” She could barely contain her enthusiasm. She was either one of my elusive fans or, more likely, she recognized television gold when she saw it.

“Sure. Why not.” The more the audience knew me and knew my side of the drama, the better my chances were.

The girl looked over my shoulder and snapped her fingers. When she had someone’s attention, she pointed at me and mouthed the words He’s next. After I handed her my completed paperwork, she handed me my number and gestured to a waiting area. “You’ll be called when it’s time for your group to enter the auditorium. Until then, wait over there for your testimonial.” With a beaming smile, she stuck her hand out. “I’m not supposed to say this, but good luck!”

I clasped her hand with both of mine. “Thanks.” I was going to need it.

When the camera was finally thrust in my face, the host of the show said, “So what is your story? How is it that you came to be here today?”

Inhaling a deep breath, I told him, “My name is Griffin Hancock, and I’m here to get my job back.”

Frowning, the host looked over at the cameraman. “Cut,” he said, making a kill motion with his hand. The red light instantly died on the camera. The host turned back to me, irritated. “Look, this is a serious part of the show, to let the audience get to know your personality. So, just tell the truth okay? What’s your name?”

Leaning forward, I said, “Griffin…Hancock. I’m the former bassist of the D-Bags, and I’m here to get my job back.”

The host sighed, then spoke into something at his wrist. “Sally, contestant 6969…who is this guy?”

I could see his eyes widening as he listened to her response. “Holy shit…” he muttered, then snapping his fingers at the cameraman, he barked, “Start filming. Now!” When he spoke to me again, his tone of voice was completely different. “Griffin, this is such a surprise. Do the guys know you’re auditioning, and why are you wearing a disguise?”

Shrugging, I shook my head. “No, they have no idea I’m here. No one knows I’m here, and for now, I want to keep it that way. I just…” I looked down at my hands, not able to face him anymore. “I’ve made a lot of boneheaded mistakes lately, but leaving the band was the biggest. I just want to show the guys that I’m serious now.” I looked up at him, determination in my voice and my face. “I want this, and I’ll do whatever it takes to win my spot back.”

“Excellent. Inspiring words for an inspiring moment. We’re all rooting for you, Griffin.” The host started to motion to the camera guy again, but I interrupted.

“Wait. I want to say one last thing.” The host leaned in, instantly intrigued again. Staring directly at the camera, I said, “If my wife is watching, I just want to let her know…Anna, you mean the world to me…and I’m sorry I…”

I couldn’t say anymore ’cause my damn throat closed up. I gave the host an I’m done signal, and he signed off with flowery words about love and heartache. When the camera died again, he extended his hand and wished me luck, just like the other girl had. I soaked it up like a sponge.

About an hour later, our group was led into the auditorium. The entire room smelled like nerves, and everyone around me was sweating. Even though I knew what I was doing, even though the guys on the judging panel were my best friends, and even though I loved being the center of attention, I felt like I was going to throw up.

Liam and I grabbed some seats in the back of the room so I could observe without being observed. Kellan, Matt, and Evan were set up at a table in front of a stage. They were listening to a guy jamming on a guitar that was provided for the auditioners. They had about ten different types to choose from, along with drums, keyboards, and various other musical equipment. The point of the audition was to showcase a person’s best talent, and the guys understood that that might not necessarily be bass guitar.

Matt was bobbing his head to the beat while the guy onstage shredded it. Evan was casting glances at Kellan and Matt, but by the grin on his face, I could tell Evan liked this guy. I could see why too; he sounded amazing. Fuck. I suddenly felt very inadequate surrounded by so much raw talent. But I was good too, and I knew what I was doing. That had to count for something. Kellan was the only one who seemed unimpressed. Well, maybe he was impressed, he just wasn’t showing it. Whenever I got a peek at his face, his expression was completely blank.

When the guy was done, all three guys accepted him into the next round. I hoped it went as smoothly for me. And Liam. As he sat there beside me, sweating and rocking in his chair like he had a mental condition, I could see how badly he wanted this.

Just as I was about to wish him good luck, a group of people in front of us caught my attention. I elbowed Liam. “Look who’s here,” I said with a smirk.

Liam looked over to where I was pointing, and spotted them instantly. Our entire fucking family was here. Chelsey was giggling as she pointed out Kellan to Mom. Dustin seemed transfixed by the entire production. Surprisingly, it was Dad who turned and spotted Liam and me in the back. He waved, then gave us each a thumbs-up. I didn’t know what to do, say, or think. My parents had always been supportive, yes, but it had typically been a backseat kind of support. I don’t think they’d ever even seen a D-Bags show. It kind of choked me up that they were here, which was sort of irritating. I was quickly becoming as much of a girlish wuss as Kellan. Goddammit.

When my number was called, I went down to the waiting area. I was next. My nerves spiked as I watched the person before me. He looked awkward onstage, like he was about to shit his pants or puke in the bucket just off camera. I sympathized; I sort of felt the same way. After his lackluster performance, all three judges said no. It felt like it was bad luck to have a bad review right before I went on. The announcer called my name—my nickname, since they allowed contestants to use them.

“Next up…G-Dog.”

There were a few chuckles in the crowd, and a lot of screams. My family was in on the disguise, but they weren’t the subtle type. I raised a hand in acknowledgment, then made my way to one of the guitars on the stage. I kept my head down, and my ball cap low. I wanted the guys to hear my music first, before they realized who I was. I couldn’t play that way though. I needed to engage the crowd. Showmanship was just as important as ability; I’d been drilling that into Liam all week long. Playing well was only half the battle. But once I started up with my usual antics, the deception would be over—the guys would recognize me instantly. Nothing to be done about that though.

I’d chosen a D-Bags song, since I knew them better than anything else out there. I picked an old one though, one that had never been officially released. I figured I’d stand out from the crowd better that way, since everyone was playing D-Bags songs.

Since this was a music competition, there were no accompanying background rhythms. No drums, no vocals, no nothing. It was just me, and whatever noises came out of my guitar. That was nerve-wracking. It was pretty much the solo from hell.

I chose a lead guitar so the rhythm would shine through. And unlike that dreaded time when I’d fucked up a perfectly good D-Bags song during rehearsal for my parents, I was going to nail it. I silently counted out the rhythm, then started in. The intro was quieter than the chorus, and I kept my head down while I played, stretching out my anonymity for as long as I could. Once I got to the chorus though, I let it rip.