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Rated: E · Short Story · Young Adult · #1981899
Word count - 1687 Playing the "what if" game is no way to live.
Word count: 1684

He knew if he walked out the door, things would never be the same.

Jimmie only had two options, go through that door and let fate take over or spend the rest of his life wondering what if. What if this was the only chance he was going to be offered to achieve his dreams? What if he failed? What if this was the first step in making his day dreams real? What if…

Could he achieve what he had come here to do? Or was the life he was trying to leave behind ‘as good as it gets’? Jimmie took a couple of deep breaths in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth as he ran a hand through his hair, digging his finger nails into his scalp. “I can do this!” he said out loud as he started to pace the hallway.

He stood taller with each step he took, his hesitant steps becoming a confident strut as he moved toward the door. Just five more steps and he would be about to touch the door that lead to his future. Four. Three. Two.

“What am I thinking?” Jimmie said aloud as he stopped and started to back away from the door. “What if they are wrong? What if they have been feeding me a line my whole life? I can’t do this!” he nearly shouted as he turned on his heels ready to retreat back to the comfort of his familiar life.

“Mr. Rhoads you are up in two.” a guy in his early twenties holding up two fingers, and wearing headphones and a radio attached to his belt, said as he came up behind Jimmie.

Jimmie jumped at the sound of his voice, and stepped back as he turned around to stare at the man. “You ok?” the guy said with a worried brow, a little fearful for his new shoes as he looked up into Jimmie’s green-tinted face. “Everyone is nervous before they walk out that door.” he said with a small smile. Relieved that the color was returning to the tall man’s face. “You wouldn’t be here if the people in the booth didn’t think you had talent.”

The two men stared at each other for about fifteen seconds before the stage hand said, “So you ready?”

Closing his eyes, while swallowing the lump in his throat, Jimmie decided he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life playing the “what if” game.

“Mr. Rhoades?” the stage hand asked.

Opening his eyes and beginning to grin, “I’m ready.” Jimmie said as he reached out and gripped the other man’s shoulders, giving him a small shake and giving a toothy smile. “Let’s do this!”

The door opened and Jimmie walked out toward the stage with his guitar over his shoulder. Regardless if the judges turned their chairs or not, his life would never be the same from this moment on.



“What was it like?” Seth Jorgon asked as he grabbed a nearby chair from a table and sat down to join his group of friends at their booth.

“Awful!” Jimmie said shaking his head. “The people were rude and the judges are nothing like what they show on TV.”

“Really?” Gracie Smith asked tentatively as she looked at Jimmie with wide eyes.

Jimmie looked at his four friends, moving from one face to other. They were all staring back at him with their mouths hanging open, eating up his every word. “Nope.” he said simply as he took a bite of cheeseburger.

“What?” Seth asked as he rose from his chair to confront Jimmie.

“Sit down Seth!” Gordy Miller said firmly as he placed his hand in the middle of Seth’s chest and pushed him back down to his chair. Returning to his own seat, he turned his head sideways to look at Jimmie, “so what was it really like?”

Putting down his burger, wiping ketchup off his chin with the back of his hand, and looked straight at Gordy, “It was great!” Jimmie smiled, “I was freaking out before I went on stage and this guy gave me a pep talk.” His glaze moved to Gracie who was sitting across from him. “The people were very nice and the judges,” he paused and lifted his arms straight up and throw his hand back to look up toward the ceiling, “Amazing!”

Gracie laughed, “So what happened?”

Jimmie sighed, “You know I can’t talk about the show, since it hasn’t aired yet.”

“But…” Gracie leaned toward Jimmie with a hopeful smile.

“But…” Jimmie said mimicking Gracie. “the advice I received was very helpful, and I am using it to make my music better.”

Seth shook his head and got up from his chair, point his finger at Jimmie. “You really aren’t going to tell us anything?”

Jimmie smiled as he looked up at his friend, “You will just have to watch the show.” Laughing he returned to his burger.


The family room of the Rhoades home was packed with people, as it has been for the past two weeks. This was the last night the blind auditions would be televised. The tension level in the room was high. Some were praying that Jimmie would get picked for one of the teams tonight. Others, were secretly hoping that Jimmie wouldn’t be televised, and they could enjoy their senior year together and prepare to go to college next fall.

Only three people in the room knew the outcome, Jimmie, his mom Mary and his dad Clark.

The minutes tick away, and singer after singer performed. The first hour of the show was done. During a commercial break, Seth got up from the couch and grabbed Jimmie’s arm pulling him into the kitchen. “Did you make a team or not?” he said has he turned to look Jimmie in the eye.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Jimmie stated as he tried to shake loose of Seth’s grasp.

“Can’t or won’t?” Seth hissed. “I have sat here for the past few weeks watching this stupid show waiting to see what’s going to happen. I am done being patient!”

“Dude, you will know in an hour or less.” Jimmie smiled and shock his head. “The shows back on, let’s get back in there before someone takes our seats.”

As they walked in the room the image of Jimmie walking between his parents was on the screen. “This is it.” Jimmie whispered, taking in a ragged breath. As everyone in the room was cheering and then turning their attention to the screen to listen to the interview. Jimmie wondered what they were all hoping to hear. Everyone in the room knew that he had started playing guitar at age seven, and sang in the choirs at church and school.

The image of him walking out the hallway door onto the stage, quieted everyone in the room. He hadn’t shared anything about the experience, except that one time in Buck’s Burger Hut, so his friends didn’t even know what song he had sung.

He started to strum his guitar and leaned into the microphone

Big wheels keep on turning

Carry me home to see my kin

Singing songs about the Southland

“Sweet Home Alabama!” Seth shouted

“Shhhhh!” Gracie snapped at him as he hit him in the arm

As he sang the camera showed the images of Blake smiling and looking down the line at his fellow judges. Next they showed Adam as he was tapping his hand on his leg and glanced back at Blake. All the judges seemed to enjoy what they were hearing, yet none of them hit the red button in front of them.

As Jimmie finished the last version that time would allow, “Lord, I’m coming home to you.” The group knew that he had not been chosen by the judges. The reactions of his friends filled Jimmie with emotion.

Gracie sat motionlessly with her hands covering her mouth and tears streaming down her face.

Gordy just stared at the screen and shook his head.

Sam Austin sat between Gracie and Gordy, with his head thrown back and his hands over his face. As if he had just missed the winning basket in the championship game.

Jimmie saw the same defeated look on each of the faces around him. When he made eye-contact with Seth, the defeated look quickly turned to anger. Seth got up and walked out the front door of the house. Jimmie had already heard the advice of the judges and so he followed Seth out the door.

Seth pacing on the walkway in front of the house, he turned toward the house hearing Jimmie’s footsteps. “What the hell!” he said in a venom-laced voice that didn’t sound familiar to his own ears. “You were awesome, what is wrong with those judges!” He started to pace again as he ranted, “Just because they have millions of down loads, they think they are Gods gift to music!”

Jimmie smirked, this was the reason Seth was his best friend. He was the one to push him when he needed it, kept him grounded in reality and was unconditionally loyal. They had been each others reality-check since preschool. “So does this mean you don’t want to go to LA with me when I go back to try again?”

Seth stopped in his tracks, “What? Go back?”

“If you would have stayed and listened to the judges, they gave me some advice and told me to come back.” He smiled at his friend, “They liked my sound, I just need some polish. So are you coming with me or what?”

Seth turned and took a step toward Jimmie, “Christina or Shakira?” he said with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Does it really matter?”

“No not really” Seth continued to smile and he clasped his hand on Jimmie’s shoulder and they started to walk back into the house. “You may want to pick a song from this century next time.”

“Now you’re giving me music advice? What’s next the birds and the bees talk?” Jimmie said as he closed the door.

Word count: 1684
© Copyright 2014 Kara Bylund (kabychoo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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