felicity
“Hi there folks,if you’re just tuning in, this is Joel Kay from KLAX 102.3. I’m here this morning with Felicity Wilde, lead singer of the band Wildwood. If you’ve turned on your radio even once in the past month, I’m sure you’ve heard their new single,Faded. It’s dominating the charts!” Joel winks at me across the sound booth. “Felicity, how are you?”
“A little tired, Joel — my coffee hasn’t quite kicked in yet!” I blast my best fake smile at him.
“Oh, big night out on the town last night?”
“No, we’ve just been so busy working on the new album, sleep hasn’t been high on the to-do list.”
“Makes sense!” Joel exclaims. “How are you liking LA so far?”
“Well, it’s a pretty big change from Nashville, but Ryder and I are really happy here.” My teeth clench on the lie.
“Speaking of Ryder — that’s Ryder Woods, for you folks who are just joining us — where is he this morning?”
“Unfortunately, he woke up with a bit of laryngitis. A few too many hours in the recording studio yesterday!” Not to mention the fact that, when I tried to wake him two hours ago, he was so hungover he could barely open his eyes to focus on me, let alone rally for an interview. Just the memory fills me with rage, but I keep the smile plastered on my face and carry on. There’s no other choice. “Nothing a little rest won’t cure.”
“All these long hours in the studio — does this mean we can expect an album soon?”
“Ah, Joel, you know I can’t tell you that!” I say, playing along with the ruse.
Of course, he knows every answer to these questions long before he asks them — courtesy of the press packet Francesca sent him last week, which included a list of approved topics, forbidden subject matter, and info about our band’s background. Every one of my lines has been carefully rehearsed, like following a script.
Keep it light.
Plug the album.
Share the story.
“What Icantell you is that it’ll be worth the wait,” I tease. “We’ve recorded eight tracks and the final two should be finished very soon!”
“That’s so exciting. Tell me, what are you most looking forward to about the release?”
“Much as I’d like to tell you it’s the fancy launch party Route 66 is throwing… I think it’ll just be having some downtime. We got to LA last month, but I feel like I haven’t even explored the city yet. There’s so much to do here!”
The rest of the interview proceeds without fanfare. Joel stick to the script so thoroughly, I could probably answer his questions in my sleep. When he puts onFadedand mutes our mics, I sit back and listen to the track, trying not to cry.
’Cause love don’t burn out, even though you’re gone
And hate don’t come just ‘cause you write it in a song…
Ryder’s voice blasts through the thick headphones covering my ears. I close my eyes to listen.
I used to think his voice was like a lazy Sunday morning. I was wrong. His voice is like sex. It’s the all nighter that leads to that slow dawn between the sheets. A toe-curling, nerve-fraying thrust of sound that drives into you so deep, you’re halfway gone before you realize what’s happened.
I could listen to him sing forever.
Sure it’s sad but it isn’t complicated…
You’re my only memory that never faded…
Feeling numb, I walk out of the interview, climb into the back of the town car Route 66 hired to drive me around, and cry my eyes out.
* * *
When I get backto the loft, Ryder is still in bed. I toss my bag to the floor with a bang loud enough to rouse him.
“Hey, baby,” he says, blinking sleep-glazed eyes at me. “Why are you dressed?”