I woke up earlier than usual the morning of the competition.
I didn't set an alarm or anything. My brain just decided we weren't sleeping anymore.
For a minute I laid there staring at the ceiling thinking about the Discord call later.
Four rounds.
Four songs eventually.
And right now everybody in the bracket was about to meet each other for the first time.
I rolled out of bed and looked around my room.
It was messy in the normal way. Clothes on the chair. Cables around the desk. Empty water bottles near the speakers.
If people were about to see my room on camera, it probably shouldn't look like a raccoon lived in it.
* * *
I cleaned up a little.
Nothing crazy. Just stacked some clothes, wiped the desk, and pushed the random junk out of frame.
The computer setup looked good though.
Keyboard. Studio monitors. Microphone.
It looked like somebody who actually made music worked there.
After that I opened my closet and started thinking about what I should wear.
Most people in the competition were probably sitting at their desks in hoodies.
I wanted to look like I belonged there.
I ended up going with Chrome Hearts jeans, a black Louis Vuitton sweater, and black cats.
Simple. Calm. Expensive without screaming about it.
* * *
I was halfway through brushing my teeth when Discord rang.
I rinsed my mouth and answered it on my computer.
A girl popped up on the screen.
Blonde. Probably early twenties. Headset on. Sitting in what looked like a bedroom with LED lights behind her.
She smiled when the camera connected.
"Hey, is this Boosted Jay?"
"Yeah."
"Hi. I'm one of the mods for the channel. Before the competition starts we ask contestants a few questions so we can play them during the stream."
"Like an intro thing?"
"Exactly."
I leaned back in my chair and looked at her for a second.
She was kind of cute.
So I said the first thing that came to mind.
"Do you get paid for this or does the YouTuber just keep you around because you're cute?"
* * *
For a few seconds she just stared at me.
I realized immediately that might have sounded worse out loud than it did in my head.
"Shit," I said. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
She started laughing.
"It's okay," she said. "People say way worse things during these."
"Good."
"Now I just need you to answer a couple questions."
She clicked something on her screen.
"First one. Where are you from?"
"East Highland, California."
"How long have you been making music?"
"About two years."
"And what made you start?"
I shrugged.
"Mostly boredom."
She smiled again and typed something.
* * *
The questions kept going.
What kind of music inspired you.
What DAW I used.
Whether I thought I would win.
I answered most of them honestly.
When she asked the last one I leaned forward a little.
"You think you're winning this?" she asked.
"I didn't join to lose," I said.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Confident."
"Realistic."
She laughed quietly and wrote something down again.
* * *
After the questions she explained how the call would work.
All the contestants would join the main Discord room.
They would play our songs live on stream.
Judges would talk about them for a minute.
Then the audience would vote.
Half the score came from viewers.
Half from judges.
I nodded while she explained it even though she probably couldn't see the difference between nodding and breathing on camera.
* * *
Before she ended the call she looked at my screen again.
"Your setup looks good," she said.
"Thanks."
"Some people are literally using laptop microphones."
"Damn."
"Yeah."
She smiled again.
"Good luck tonight."
"You rooting for anybody?"
"Not allowed," she said. "But I like confident people."
"Then you're rooting for me."
She laughed and ended the call.
* * *
Jordan has always been weirdly comfortable in rooms he probably should not be comfortable in. It doesn't matter if it's a drug dealer's car, a teacher's office, or a livestream watched by thousands of strangers. He walks in like he already belongs there. Most of the time people just accept it. Confidence is a strange kind of camouflage.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the monitor after the call ended.
The competition would start later that night.
Until then there was nothing to do but wait.
I opened the folder with my remix and played it again.
The drums hit.
The sample came in.
Yeah.
I smiled a little.
Tonight was going to be interesting.