A/N- Hi all. Long time no see. This is a fic myself and my best friend planned one night when we were bored about a year ago. I finally started writing it in the past week or so. I got a taste for it with all the 'buzz' around the Downton movie and ran with it. I hope you enjoy.
It is completely self indulgent but I am writing it for me and my Homey anyway. And our Taff. If you guys like it than that's just an added bonus.
Winning Isn't Everything is on an extended hiatus. We do keep meaning to go back to it but what with life and the lack of motivation, I'm not sure when it will be updated. Robert will just have to wait in limbo for a bit longer. Didn't realise till I read the last few chapters how much of a cliffhanger we left it on. Oops.
Disclaimer- I have totally ripped off a famous television singing contest so sue me. Actually please don't, I have no money. The Downton stuff belongs to Lord Fellowes, who better be planning a nice bed and breakfast for Banna and their offspring in the upcoming movie.
His heart was thundering in his chest as he stood at the side of the stage. The sound of the crowd was ringing in his ears. Either they were easily pleased or they really didn't have any taste in music. John didn't even know the sing the previous contestant had warbled their way through. He squeezed his eyes shut, resting a hand on his right thigh. God, his knee was throbbing. It had been a long day, he'd been on his feet for most of it.
Looking to his left, John saw his niece Chloe almost bobbing up and down with excitement as she listened to his best friend, Robert critique the last performance. It was all white noise to John. He wasn't that confident singing in front of people at the best of times, but to two thousand people in an arena had him way out of his comfort zone. And he didn't even want to be here. He was doing this for Chloe. Anything he did was for her.
'Oh my days, Tom Branson and Anna Smith are walking this way.'
The shrill from his niece brought John back to the present, he looking in the direction she was to see the two television presenters walking in their direction. Even though John had never cared for television talent shows, not really, it all seemed so surreal to be here. 'It's Your Time'- corny title John thought- was the most watched talent show on television. It copied the format of many singing competitions that had preceded it. Thousands of hopefuls in four different catergories enter to become the next big music sensation. Or at the very least, have one number one single off of the back of the shows success before disappearing without a trace.
Tom Branson was an Irish singer, one fifth of some boyband who had turned his hand to presenting to assist the show's main compere, Yorkshire lass Anna Smith. She hosted a few of the flagship shows on the channel which broadcast 'It's Your Time,' and had just come second on a series of Celebrity Masterchef. She was gorgeous, any man with eyes could see that and the only reason John sat through hours of this singing contest at the request of his niece.
'Hello, John is it?' John swallowed thickly as he accepted the outstretched hand of Anna, before shaking the hand of Tom. He nodded yes, before looking beyond Anna to see a man balancing a camera on his shoulder, followed by another man with a clipboard.
'Right, so we'll do a small bit to camera before the judges are ready for you onstage,' man with clipboard informed John. 'Anna and Tom will ask you a couple of questions. Aaaaaand... action.'
'So John, how are you feeling about performing to all those people out there.'
Tom's question caught John a little off guard, and made him feel even more anxious. Hopefully he could do himself justice, make Chloe proud and escape with a couple of yeses from the judges before going back to his normal life. It was she who sent in a tape of him singing without his knowing, he almost fainted from the shock when he received the letter inviting him to audition. It had taken some persuading to get him here.
'A little nervous but willing to give this a go for my niece.'
'Okay, good luck,' Anna said kindly, gesturing towards the way on stage.
John looked, able to see half of the arena from his vantage point. He took a deep breath before reaching for the guitar he had balanced against the wall behind him. Glancing at Chloe, he offered her a half smile just as he felt Robert's hand on his shoulder. He met his friend's gaze.
'You'll smash it, mate.'
Throwing the strap over his shoulder, John positioned his guitar in front of him. He gripped the neck so tightly the knuckles of his right hand had turned white. He tried to desperately compose himself before walking on to the stage. Faltering a little- he blamed his knee for that as well- John began to stride towards the centre of the stage. Well, stride as much as his limp would let him. The wall of noise from the crowd as they noticed him only caused his heart rate to quicken. What was he doing here?
Reaching the clock at the centre of the stage, the shows logo, John looked up and all he could see was the blinding what flash of the arena lights. He winced, before focusing on the four familiar faces about ten metres away from him. The judges. The people who held the fate of everyone singing here today in their hands.
The judges had varying degrees of experience in the music business. Head judge, Charles Carson was a seventies crooner from a time when flared trousers and big hair were the main attributes to be a pop star. He was the owner of the record label, CBC Records with whom the winner of the show would earn a contract. The woman to his left, Elsie Hughes was a star of the west end stage, having been in many successful musicals.
Joseph Molesley sat on the opposite side of the panel, his credentials being the ones John admired most. Joseph was a singer and songwriter, having had most of his success in the mid to late nineties. He was now mainly focused on the writing side of the business and was also a producer at Charles's record label.
The final judge, sitting between Joseph and Elsie was Sarah Hughes. Commercially, she was the most successful former singer. She made up one quarter of 'Girls Town,' a girl band who achieved monumental success in the early 1990's. John didn't really care for their music. That could have been because his ex wife had many of their CD's in her collection and John would rather forget anything to do with her. Before he had time to reflect on that too much, Charles Carson was speaking.
'Hello. Welcome. So, tell us a bit about yourself.'
John puffed out his cheeks, the crowd gathered behind the judges catching his attention. He looked around as he answered. 'My name is John Bates, I'm forty six years old and I come from Downton in Yorkshire.'
That wasn't strictly true. He was born near Dublin, Ireland but he had spent most of his formative years in the south of England, London mainly before moving up north a few years ago. But they didn't need to know that. The crowd who were cheering seemed pleased enough with his response. Also, John wasn't planning on being in the competition for long.
'What do you do for a living, John?'
Upon hearing her question, John's focus zeroed in on Sarah Hughes. She was the judge everyone loved to hate. This was certainly true in John's case. 'I am a fork lift driver. Nothing exciting.' It paid the bills.
'And who have you got here with you today?'
Looking to his left, John saw Chloe and Robert chatting to Tom and Anna. They were the two most important people in his life. Robert had been John's best friend for almost twenty years, and then there was Chloe. His niece. His everything.
John had met Robert in the army. They had toured together in Iraq and Bosnia and formed a bond only those in the army could with their comrades. They didn't talk much of their experiences anymore, even though John still bore the scars of their endeavours. His limp. His right knee.
It had hit him hard, having to leave the army because of his injury. He sought solace in the bottom of a bottle which along with his wife's cruel jibes about his ailment, resulted in the break down of his marriage and almost the end of his life. At his lowest, it would have taken something monumental to bring John back from the brink. And then something monumental did happen.
He was living with his mother Margaret when they received the call. His brother James and her wife had been in a car crash. The collision had killed them instantly. John's mother was shattered. As was he. But when James and his wife perished they left someone behind. And it still broke John's heart to this day.
Chloe, their six year old daughter had been left without parents at such a young age, and without any other family but her uncle and Nan. John and Margaret moved to Yorkshire to be her guardians. Coincidentally, Robert had also settled in the North with his wife after leaving the army. Under such tragic circumstances, John now had a reason to live and was surrounded by people to support him. He hadn't drunk since.
That was six years ago, the last year of which had been very difficult indeed. It had been nine months since they had lost Margaret. At his lowest ebb, she had grabbed John by the scruff of the neck and forced him to get a grip. She was his rock, especially when it came to taking care of Chloe. And now his mother was gone. John forced thoughts of her from his mind, he didn't need that in his head. Not now. Just answer the question, Bates he thought to himself. He cleared his throat.
'I have my best friend of twenty years and former army comrade, Robert and my niece Chloe. I am her guardian.'
'Former army? Is that why you limp?' Stupid cow. How dare Sarah ask such a question. He knew he was right in his instincts not to like 'Girls Town.'
'Yes, that is why I limp.'
'And what are you hoping for from entering the competition?' Joseph's line of questioning was much more friendly.
John glanced to his left as he answered the question. 'Just to make Chloe proud. As long as I do that, then I'll be satisfied. I don't want to become the next Henry Talbot or anything.' John chuckled as an awkward rumble of laughter echoed around the arena. He frowned. He'd said something wrong.
'He's on my label,' Charles growled, scowling at John from beneath his bushy eyebrows.
Ahh shit, that explains it John thought to himself. Hopefully they'd edit that bit out if John's audition made it on to the television. It was the truth, however and John stood by it. Henry Talbot's popularity was stratospheric and he must have never got a moments peace. John definitely didn't want that for himself.
'Moving on, what are you going to be singing for us today?' Elsie asked, patting Charles's hand as she spoke in an attempt to calm him.
'Shape of You by Ed Sheeran.' John didn't sound thrilled in the slightest.
His response received a small echo of approval from those gathered in the arena. He was one of Chloe's favourite singers and one of the few artists she listened to that John could actually stomach. She had chosen the song and John hoped he could do it justice for her. What she thought was all that mattered to him.
'You could attempt to be enthusiastic,' Sarah remarked. What was her problem?
'I am on the inside.'
'Okay then, John Bates,' Charles began, still clearly pissed off about what John had said about Henry Talbot. 'It's your time...'
Rolling his eyes upon hearing the shows corny catchphrase, the lights dimmed and now the spotlight was on him. John glanced down at his guitar. He strummed the instrument gently. The sound was louder than he'd been expecting in this atmosphere. The acoustics were amazing.
He searched his memory for the correct chords and the order in which to play them. John knew them, he must have played this song a thousand times in the last week. Just imagine you're in the living room, Chloe is curled up in the arm chair listening, Robert is making tea in the kitchen. Freddie is sitting with Chloe, lifting his head as you begin to play. Freddie was Chloe's pug. Just get through these few minutes, make Chloe proud and then go back to your normal life.
As he began to play the introduction to the song on his guitar, he heard the faint sound of some of the audience clapping. John felt his heart sink. He loathed audience participation. Almost as much as he was beginning to loathe Sarah Hughes, one quarter of Girls Town. The mean spirited quarter, obviously. He wanted to run, he didn't want to be here but then he looked towards Chloe, her hands clenched together as if she was in prayer. She wanted him to do this. And if it was what she wanted, then John felt he didn't really have a choice. He closed his eyes.
'A club isn't the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go. Me and my friends sat at the table doing shots, drinking fast and then we talk slow. And you come over and start up a conversation with just me and trust me I'll give it a chance now. Take my hand, stop, put Van The Man on the jukebox, and then we start to dance...'
John wasn't enjoying this one bit. This wasn't him. He was so far out of his comfort zone. Being a pop star wasn't something he had ever aspired to be. He had taken up playing the guitar in school as a way to skip his gymnastics class. Suddenly he was wishing he hadn't taken to it so well and had tried the pummel horse instead. Just to add insult to injury, his voice wasn't that bad either. He blamed his mother for that one. She could croon along with Elvis with the best of them. And if you believed some of her stories, she actually did in her youth.
'Say, boy, let's not talk too much, grab on my waist and put that body on me. Come on now, follow my lead, come, come on now, follow my lead, mmmm.'
John looked over to see Chloe looking practically ecstatic. Beyond her, Robert was nodding his head in time. Tom looked like he was enjoying it however it was Anna who John was drawn to. She was moving in time to the music, the sway of her hips was intoxicating to say the least. And all of a sudden, he found a muse to sing the chorus...
'I'm in love with the shape of you, we push and pull like a magnet do, although my heart is falling too, I'm in love with your body, last night you were in my room, and now my bed sheets smell like you, every day discovering something brand new, I'm in love with your body...'
Lifting his head, John saw Charles lifting his hand. Having watched the show previously, John knew the head judge meant for him to stop. He did so to a rapturous applause from the audience. He bowed his head, not really sure how to receive the praise. It was something he had never experienced before.
'John, that was very good,' Joseph said, the audience cheering in agreement. 'I love the tone to your voice, you sound like Bryan Adams, or dare I say it, Michael Bolton. And you clearly know how to play the guitar, brilliant.'
Was this guy on drugs or something? The crowd clearly were on what he was as they erupted around him. John didn't know what to say or do so he nodded again.
'I loved it,' Elsie agreed. 'You're definitely the most talented over 25 we've seen so far.'
Blimey... they must have seen some chuff John wondered to himself. It was Sarah's turn to critique next, and John felt like turning his back. But he was nothing if not a gentleman.
'It's clear you can sing and can play the guitar.' She was perceptive. 'But I'm not sure you're the right image for this competition.'
John looked down at his appearance. Sure, he had let himself go since his army days but he didn't think he was doing too badly. He was going to shave the dusting of stubble on his cheeks until Chloe had told him not to, it made him look edgy apparently. And he wouldn't have chosen the leather jacket he was wearing for himself. But other than that...
Perhaps he shouldn't take Sarah's words too harshly, she had said yes to a man wearing a feather boa earlier on in the day.
'Okay,' John replied. 'That's fine.' He looked at Charles. The man showed no emotion, John was coming to realise.
'I like you.' Really? 'You have a good voice but I question your commitment to the competition.'
He didn't have any, not that John would ever admit that to Chloe. So, going by the judges remarks, he would probably get two yeses from Elsie and Joseph, he liked Joseph, but a no from Sarah and Charles. The time for a decision had been reached.
'I'm going to kick things off with a yes,' Joseph began, John lifting his hand to say thank you.
'It's a yes from me, as well.' He'd received his two yeses from the two he had predicted, now he would bow out gracefully. Sarah passed her judgement next.
'It's a no from me, sorry.'
Too bad. The booing from the crowd was deafening. They liked him. John allowed a smile to pass over his lips. Charles shifted in his chair. He held John's fate in his hands.
'I think you need to rethink your attitude if you were to go further in this competition.' Oh well, here was the second no coming. He'd done Chloe proud, there was no doubting that. She had looked absolutely delighted as he finished his song, clapping enthusiastically. 'But I'd like to see you again. It's a yes from me.'
What. The. Fuck? Seriously? John didn't know what to do. He'd actually been put through to the next round. Nothing made sense as the audience stood to applaud. This wasn't really happening. He looked over to Chloe and Robert again. They were trapped in a group hug with Tom and Anna. This was real alright.
'We'll see you at bootcamp, John.'
He nodded, again, politely at Charles's remark before a stage hand offered him a thumbs up then encouraged him to walk off stage. He turned and focused on Chloe who was jumping up and down. He was through. Once he was backstage, Chloe threw her arms around him, Robert doing the same. They were so happy. John just didn't feel it.
'You look shocked, John,' Tom observed, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'You should be happy. You get to see us again.'
Accepting an embrace from Anna, John murmured as he held the television presenter in his arms. 'Yeah, that's one thing I suppose.'
John pushed the chips on his plate around with his fork. He hadn't said much since they'd left the arena. It had been Robert's idea to go and get a burger to celebrate. Chloe had been clinging on to his arm ever since John had stepped off the stage. She was so happy, so proud. However, all John could think was he was going to have to do it all again. He seriously believed he wouldn't be put through. It wasn't him, it wasn't who he was or what he wanted for himself.
'Alright, out with it Bates.'
Lifting his head, John looked at Robert. 'What?'
'Well, you've just been put through to the next round of the biggest singing competition in the country and look like someone has just kicked you in the bollocks.'
'Language...' John gestured towards Chloe who was currently slurping on a strawberry milkshake.
'He's just shocked,' Chloe said, stirring the milkshake with the straw she had just been using. 'It's a big thing.'
Perhaps it was time to be honest. 'That's just it, Chlo. It's massive and I'm not sure it's something I can handle.'
'What do you mean?'
The look of disappointment in her eyes hit John square in the chest. He faltered a little before continuing. 'I'm not sure I want to do this. You sent my tape off without me knowing. If I had known, well I'd have told you not to bother. It's hard for me to tell you that, but it's the truth.'
Chloe looked down at her drink. 'But you're so good.'
John cocked his head. 'Well apparently that's what people seem to think but...'
'You're being an idiot, Bates.'
Robert. Straight to the point as always. 'Why is that?'
'You were amazing up there, you looked so at home.'
'Well I didn't feel like that,' John interrupted. 'I felt so out of place.'
'You looked like you'd been doing it all your life, John. The audience loved you, you got some great comments from the judges.' Robert picked up a chip from his plate. 'And you know you're going to do it anyway because you can't say no to Chloe.' He smirked before putting the chip in his mouth.
John looked at Chloe, her expression downcast. He couldn't bare to be the reason she felt like that. 'Please Uncle John. I was so proud of you.'
God, this girl could get to him like no other. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. 'Alright, I'll do it. But I can't promise if I'll get through boot camp.'
'Just try your best,' Chloe replied, resting her head on his shoulder. 'That's all I ask.'
He had to do it now, didn't he.
