I Was on The Voice: A NBC's "The Voice" Fanfiction [COMPLETE]

Chapter Ten

[I apologize if the start of this chapter is boring, just read through the end, okay?]

Results. The day was Wednesday, and Team Blake and Team Shakira performed last night. Now, I have about twenty minutes before we go onstage the hear the results. Ah. I’m freaking out so much right now.

The hair and makeup artists are doing last minute touch-ups, making sure I look perfect. Or, as close to perfect as Rebekah Leigh can get. I have to admit, I look good, but that isn’t important to me right now. I am spazzing out.

We walk onstage, all sixteen of us lining up in a row by teams. “First, Team Blake,” Carson announced, listing the two contestants that had made it through from Team Blake. Next, Blake chose one of his two remaining contestants to move on.

Next was Team Usher. “Saved by America from Team Usher is...” Carson Daly began. “Peter Greene!” [A/N- I apologize, I’m just now realizing how unattractive of a name I gave him. I didn’t realize he would be important when I named him, so I had just given him the first last name that came to mind...Woops]

Team Usher and Shakira passed, and now it was time for Team Adam. I held my breath, extremely nervous. I hope I wasn’t shaking. And if I was, I hope no one could tell.

“Saved by America from Team Adam...Christine and Elizabeth!” Carson said. I wanted to wither up and die right there. Two names had been called. Neither was mine.

I felt a fresh burst of hope, though, as I realized that Adam could still pick one of us to save. “Adam, who do you pick to save?” Carson asked.

He paused for a few seconds, then said, “I save Beka.”

I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted on my shoulders. For at least one week, I was safe! I ran up and hugged Adam, only having enough time to say, “Thank you so much,” before I needed to head backstage and the program ended.

If Adam hadn’t saved me, my time on The Voice would be over. I needed to try harder to win America’s votes, because from here on, there was no more saving from the coaches. This was it.

I headed back to my room, already brainstorming ideas for what song I could use for my performance next week. It was my turn to pick the song, and I wanted to use something that would compliment my voice. However, I quickly fell asleep, my tiredness overcoming me.

~~~~Next Week~~~~

“I’ve chosen Grenade by Bruno Mars,” I had told Adam when he asked me what song I wanted to do for the next round of the Lives. That whole practice, he had pushed me really hard to get all the notes just right, and told me to work on my breathing some more before the performance.

So I had been doing just that. I’d been practicing almost non-stop since my session with Adam, and I finally got everything done that I needed to. I was ready.

Which was good, as I had about five minutes before I was going to perform.

My outfit for this week was just weird. I had no idea what made them want to do this. They said I couldn’t wear a dress, as that didn’t really fit with the song, so they chose just about the opposite. I was wearing faded blue jeans, black boots, a white shirt, and an aviator jacket. The set apparently looked like a battlefield after war (minus the dead bodies...) to go with the whole Grenade thing. And I guess they just wanted me to blend in. That was my best guess behind the outfit.

When I got onstage, I found that the set indeed looked like some big battle had taken place there a while ago. Everything was dark and covered in ash, there were even some fake grenades on the ground, as well as barbed wire and pretty much everything else you’d expect to see. Huh. I hoped I wouldn’t get distracted by my own set.

When my cue to start came, I began. “Easy come, easy go, that’s just how you live. Oh, take, take, take it all, but you never give,” I began, confident that I was going to nail this.

“Should’ve known you was trouble from the first kiss. Had your eyes wide open...Why were they open?’

By the first chorus, Adam was grinning at me, which meant that I must’ve been doing good and followed his advice. Now I just had to keep it up.

I got to the bridge, still thinking I was doing pretty good. “If my body was on fire, ooh, you’d watch me burn down in flames. You said you loved me, you’re a liar. Cause you never, ever, ever, did baby.” I could do this.

I made it through the last chorus...”Yes I would die for you baby...but you won’t do the same.”

The audience roared with clapping and cheers as I got a standing ovation. I did it! Adam was standing and clapping, too. I was so happy, surely I would get to move on to the next round! And if I did, I would be in the Top 10!

I felt like the happiest person in the world when I went backstage, beaming as I sat down to watch the other performances on the screens they had back there.

I frowned when Peter’s performance came around. Carson announced that he would be doing a Bruno Mars song, too. I was not pleased.

It turns out, he was doing When I Was Your Man. When he got up there, I was surprised to see that he looked genuinely sad. But about what, I had no idea.

Wait a second....I had just broken up with him. Oh, this just got awkward.

Throughout the whole performance, he was looking rather wistful. Either he was just very good at acting, or he was seriously sad. Nope, I was not going to feel bad for him. Not doing it. Absolutely not.

...Or was I? By the end, I actually was feeling sorry for him. Which I hated myself for, but I couldn’t help but thinking that he was seriously feeling sad. I would wait to see how he acted when he got backstage. If he had just been acting, he would be acting normal. I would know if he was actually sad or not.

When he came backstage, he still looked upset. He slumped down in a chair, watching the screens that the show was playing on. Well, now it was a commercial break. “So,” Peter said after a few minutes of awkward silence. I looked at him, somehow unable to glare at him. “Am I officially forgiven yet?’

I rolled my eyes, trying to act annoyed. “I guess.” That didn’t mean we could date, though.

He grinned, looking much happier. “Want to go out and get fast food or something?”

“After the show.”

“That’s what I meant.”

“Then sure.”

And so once the show was over for the night, we climbed into Peter’s car. I leaned forward to crank up the heat, but nothing happened. “It’s broken,” Peter told me.

I slumped backward, head hitting my chair. I tucked my knees up to my chest, trying to keep myself warm.

“Sorry,” he said innocently. I said nothing.

Instead of talking, I attempted to keep myself warm. After a little while, Peter was getting annoyed. “I have a jacket in the back seat if you’re really that cold,” he added.

Gee, could’ve mentioned that before now. “No,” I said quickly, just annoyed with him. But I was still attempting to warm myself up instead of talking.

He sighed, and turned to reach back for his jacket...

Suddenly, I screamed. “PETER, EYES ON THE ROAD!!!!” I yelled, but it was too late.

The truck collided with our car from the side, sending us spinning and flying across the road. There was nothing we could do but try to shield ourselves from the flying glass with Peter’s jacket as the car flew off the side of the road and into a ditch.

Everything went black.

[Masterofdisaster- I'm ready for you to kill me now.]