It was a Thursday night and I had nothing going on.
Rue was in her room. Mom was at work. Gia was downstairs watching something loud enough that I could hear the bass through the floor every few minutes. I was on my bed with my laptop open, going through YouTube the way you do when you are not really looking for anything, just clicking until something catches.
I landed on a channel I had seen before but never paid attention to. Big channel. Real setup. Camera team. Judges. Sponsors. The title said Song Wars.
I clicked it.
The concept was simple. Artists applied. The channel picked contestants. Everybody who got in received a random topic. Then you had one week to write, record, and submit a song based on that topic. No genre rules. No real length rules. Just the topic and whatever you could make out of it.
Then they put the prizes on screen.
Third place: two thousand dollars.
Second place: five thousand.
First place: eight thousand.
I sat up a little.
Eight thousand for a song was crazy. Not industry crazy. Real life crazy. Bedroom producer crazy.
Then they explained the rest. Half the score came from viewers. Half came from a panel of judges. Previous winners had made everything from sad guitar songs to drill tracks to weird pop shit. The channel did not really care what style you used. They cared if the song hit.
That part I liked.
I watched the latest episode all the way through. Twelve contestants. Bracket style. The winner was this lo fi R&B song about growing up somewhere that never loved you right. It was good. Real good actually.
But not unbeatable.
I watched it again.
Then I went to the application page.
* * *
The form was straightforward. Artist name. Location. Link to your music. Short bio. One paragraph about why you wanted to compete.
I typed in Boosted Jay.
East Highland, California.
For the link I used the channel. The stripper song was on there. The car video. A few other songs that were decent enough that they would know I was not just making shit up.
The bio took me longer than it should have.
I did not want it sounding fake deep. I also did not want it sounding stupid.
I finally wrote: Seventeen. Self-produced. I write and record everything myself. Been building my sound out of my bedroom and whatever the house is quiet enough to give me.
That worked.
Then the last box.
Why do you want to compete?
I typed: Because I want the money.
Looked at it.
Deleted it.
Typed: I have been making music for a while and I want to see what it does in a real competition. The money matters. So does proving I can make something good on command.
I read it twice.
Left it.
Then I checked everything again. Name. Link. Bio. Paragraph. All of it looked right. I hit submit and the page refreshed to a confirmation message saying they would reach out within five to seven business days if I got selected.
Five to seven business days.
Alright.
I closed the laptop and laid back on my bed.
I was already thinking about what kind of topic they might send. Love. Family. Addiction. Summer. Fear. Some random word like that. Something broad enough to trap people who were not actually good.
That part sounded fun.
My phone buzzed.
It was Savanna.
u busy?
I looked at the message for a second then typed back.
not really
come by if u want
seven here tho
I smiled a little.
be there in 20
* * *
I took the Z.
Mostly because I always wanted to drive it. Part of it was also that I liked how people looked when they heard it coming.
When I pulled up outside Savanna's house the TV was on inside and the front light was already on. Seven opened the door before I knocked all the way.
She looked at me, then past me at the car, then back at me.
"Gia said you were home."
"I was."
"Now you here."
"Looks like it."
She stepped back and let me in like this was normal now, which I guess it kind of was.
Savanna was in the kitchen in leggings and a fitted T-shirt, doing something with a pan on the stove. She looked up when I walked in and smiled in that small way she had started doing whenever it was me at the door.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey."
Seven was already watching both of us.
Not because she knew anything. She did not. But thirteen-year-olds notice things. They notice patterns. They notice when somebody is suddenly around more than they used to be.
Gia was the same way.
Savanna asked if I wanted something to drink. I said water was fine. Seven asked if I brought food.
"I brought myself," I said.
"That's unfortunate."
I laughed once. "You always this nice?"
"Only to people at my house too much."
Savanna looked at her. "Seven."
"What? I'm just saying."
I took the water and leaned on the counter. "She's not wrong."
Savanna shook her head and went back to the stove.
Seven kept looking at me like she was building a case.
* * *
I sat at the table while Savanna finished cooking and Seven drifted between the kitchen and living room with her phone in her hand the whole time.
Every few minutes she would say something from nowhere.
Savanna put food on three plates and set them down. Chicken, rice, some vegetables Seven clearly was not going to touch unless somebody made her.
I stayed because Savanna told me to. Also because I wanted to.
Dinner was easy. Seven talked the most. Savanna kept pretending she was annoyed when really she liked hearing her talk. I mostly listened and answered when I had to. A normal dinner if you ignored the fact that I had been in her the day before and now I was sitting at her table drinking Sprite while her daughter argued about whether she should be allowed to get highlights.
That was the strange part.
Not guilty exactly. Just strange.
After we ate, Seven finally looked at me and asked the thing she had obviously been holding all night.
"Why are you always here now?"
Savanna went still for half a second. Barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.
I looked at Seven. "I'm not always here."
"You kind of are."
"Compared to what?"
"Compared to never."
That was fair.
Savanna picked up her plate. "Jordan helped with the Durango and he stops by. It is not that deep."
Seven looked at her mom, then at me. "I didn't say it was deep."
The way she said it made it clear she absolutely thought it was deep.
I smiled a little. "Your mom's cool. I like hanging out here."
"That's a weird answer."
"It is also the answer."
Seven frowned like she wanted more than that but did not have the exact words for it.
Then she pointed at me with her fork. "If you get weird and make it weird, Gia's gonna hear about it."
Savanna almost choked on her drink. I looked down so I would not laugh in her face.
"What does that even mean," Savanna said.
"It means if he's being weird, I'm telling."
"I'm not being weird," I said.
"Yet."
I laughed that time.
Seven grinned like she had won something.
* * *
After dinner Savanna told Seven to go shower because she still had to finish homework. Seven argued for maybe thirty seconds, lost, and disappeared down the hall with her plate in one hand and her phone in the other.
The second the bathroom door shut, the house felt different.
Quieter.
Savanna picked up a napkin and wiped the counter even though it did not need wiping.
"Sorry," she said. "She notices everything."
"Gia does too."
"That's because they're friends."
"Yeah."
She looked at me and smiled a little. "You handled that better than I thought you would."
"Handled what?"
"Her interrogation."
"That wasn't an interrogation. That was a warning."
Savanna laughed under her breath and looked down.
I stepped a little closer.
Not close enough to be stupid. Just enough that she noticed.
"She doesn't know anything," I said.
"I know."
"But she knows I'm here a lot."
Savanna let out a breath. "I know that too."
For a second neither of us said anything.
Then she touched the front of my shirt, just with two fingers, like she was checking if I was real.
"I probably should not have texted you to come over," she said.
"Maybe"
She smiled at that because it was true.
The bathroom was still running down the hall. Water through the pipes. Cabinet opening and shutting.
Normal house sounds.
Savanna looked over toward the hallway, then back at me.
"You submitted that music thing?"
"Yeah."
"The competition?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
"You think so?"
"I do."
I leaned back against the counter. "Might not get picked."
"I think you will."
"You don't even know who applied."
"So i believe in you."
That landed a little harder than it should have.
I looked at her for a second and she looked back like she knew exactly what she had done.
"Should you?," I asked.
She shrugged. "I don't know."
Then Seven yelled from the hallway, "Mom, where's my blue shirt?"
Savanna stepped back so fast it almost made me laugh.
"In the dryer!" she called.
She looked at me again and this time we both smiled.
* * *
Seven came back out in sweats and a giant T-shirt and dropped onto the couch like she had survived something difficult.
"I'm hungry again," she said.
"You just ate," Savanna told her.
"That was dinner hungry. This is dessert hungry."
I looked at Seven. "You ever stop?"
"No."
"Respect."
She brightened immediately. "Can we get In N Out later?"
"You want In N Out for dessert?"
"No, for later. Like in an hour."
Savanna groaned. "Absolutely not."
Seven looked at me instead of her mom.
That was the move now. I could tell this had already become a thing for her.
"Jordan."
"No."
"You didn't even let me ask."
"I know what the question was."
She stared at me for a second. "Wow. Fake nice."
"I bought you food last time."
"Exactly. Do that again."
Savanna was laughing now.
I pulled out my wallet and took out a twenty. "This is as far as our friendship goes tonight."
Seven snatched it and looked at Savanna. "Can I order something later?"
Savanna sighed. "We'll see."
"That's basically yes."
"It absolutely is not."
Seven looked back at me. "See. That's why you're my favorite guest."
"I'm not a guest."
She blinked. "That's even worse."
Savanna put a hand over her face.
I laughed and stood up. "I should go before this gets any dumber."
Savanna walked me to the door while Seven was still talking from the couch about milkshakes and how nobody in the house respected her.
At the door Savanna lowered her voice.
"Text me when you get home."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"Alright."
We stood there for a second too long again.
Then Seven yelled from inside, "Mom, if he's leaving tell him I said thanks for the twenty."
"I heard you," I said.
"Good."
Savanna smiled and looked down.
I stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind me.
* * *
I sat in the Z with the engine off for a minute before I started it.
The competition was still on my mind.
So was Savanna.
Not in the same way. Not really. One was money and music and whether I could turn something in my room into something real. The other was a grown woman with a daughter down the hall and a kitchen table I had started to feel too comfortable sitting at.
Both felt like things I should maybe be more careful with than I was.
I started the car.
On the drive home I thought about topics. What if they gave me something I actually cared about. What if they gave me something soft. What if they gave me some bullshit and I still had to make it work.
By the time I pulled into the driveway I was already hearing drums in my head.
I went inside. The house was mostly dark. Rue was at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal, half awake.
"You go out?" she asked.
"Yeah."
She looked at me for a second and then back at her bowl. "Cool."
I grabbed a water and stood there for a minute.
Then I went upstairs and opened FL Studio before I even changed clothes.
If they picked me, I wanted to be ready.
If they didn't, I still wanted the next song done.
* * *