Page 7 of Bryce

“Excellent choice. Whenever you’re ready,” the faceless man encouraged.

The keyboardist began playing at her prompt. Samantha closed her eyes and let herself feel the music coming from the keyboard. The sounds filled the large space and her voice joined in. She opened her eyes and began to move around the space as she sang. She looked at each person seated at the table even though she couldn’t see much of their faces and finished the last words of the song with her hands crossed over her chest.

“Thank you,” a voice said from the table.

Samantha tried to read into his tone, but it was pointless. She had no idea how well she had done. Following the man back out to the other room, she anxiously scanned the area for a place to wait. Doing some more stretches gave her something to do with her body besides pacing back and forth.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she finally heard her name called again. It could have been three hours or thirty minutes. There was no clock on any of the walls and her phone was on silent in her bag, as it usually was during auditions. It was best to avoid any outside distractions, and her phone would make it too easy to get lost scrolling.

“Yes, I’m here,” she answered, trying to put a face with the voice.

The young man from before stood in the same spot by the doorway holding a clipboard. She stood and followed him back down the hallway. When the doors opened this time, she was met with a group of ten people. Another young man introduced himself as the choreographer and requested their attention. He demonstrated a few moves which he asked the group to follow. After following that pattern a few times, they performed the dance to the table. Once finished, they were separated into smaller groups before performing the dance again.

When all the groups had finished, Samantha made her way back to the other room and waited. It had gotten dark outside by the time she entered the audition room again. Bright lights replaced the natural light from the windows.

“Do you have another song prepared that you can sing?” someone from the long table asked.

“Yes. I do,” she answered as she pulled another page of sheet music out of her bag and handed it to the person at the keyboard. She wasted no time getting started, once again allowing herself to be transported by the music. The song was slower in tempo, and she kept her eyes closed the entire time she sang.

“Okay thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

She had been dismissed. The adrenaline crash hit her before she made it to the elevator. It seemed to have gone well, but there was no way to tell. If they hated her, she wouldn’t have hung around for the choreography or sang a second song. When she stepped off the elevator and made her way out of the building, she took her phone from her bag to check the time, surprised to see several missed calls.

Bryce Tate was working late, once again. The basement of the community center could wait until he had more free time. Or, he could farm out some of the work to the specific trades. But that’s not what Bryce did. If the job was important to him, he preferred to do things himself, even if it meant late nights.

Volunteering at the community center as a teenager had kept him out of trouble, and he was determined to give back. He had purposely bid low to get the job renovating the basement of the center for expansion of the afterschool program. To stay under budget, he had to do some of the work himself. As a general contractor, he delegated a lot of things, but it still made for a long day when he started on the community center job after hours.

His phone had been ringing for the past ten minutes, but he had to wait until he was at a stopping point to pull it out of his front pocket to answer. He didn’t recognize the number, but he figured it was important if they called more than once.

“Hello?” he barked.

“Bryce Tate?” the woman on the other end of the line asked.

“Yeah? Who’s calling?” he asked with his New Jersey accent becoming slightly more pronounced.

“This is Stephanie calling from University Hospital in Brooklyn. We have Brandon Tate here, and his medical records have you listed as an emergency contact.”

Bryce froze in his tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard from his brother and was shocked to be listed as an emergency contact. “I am? What about his wife?”

“We’re having trouble reaching her. There’s been an accident. It’s really important that you come down here as soon as you can. Do you know where we are located?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah. I’m on my way.” Bryce picked up his keys and headed for the stairs. “Is my brother okay?”

Stephanie hesitated for a brief moment before responding. “The doctor will speak to you once you get here. Do you have a way to contact Mrs. Tate?”

“No. I’ve never even met her,” he answered. He opened the door to his truck and threw his tool belt onto the passenger seat before climbing in.

“Okay. When you get to the emergency room ask for Stephanie. I’ll see you soon,” she said and hung up.

Bryce sat in the driver’s seat for a moment before starting his truck. He hadn’t seen his brother in over ten years. He only knew Brandon was married because a friend of his told him about the wedding. If the hospital was calling him, it couldn’t be good. He took a deep breath, started his truck, and headed for the Garden State Parkway North, toward New York.

Traffic was light, so he was able to make it to the hospital and park within half an hour. Showing up as next of kin made him extremely uncomfortable. Only a loved one should be making important medical decisions. Cursing under his breath, he made his way across the parking garage toward the hospital entrance. It seemed harsh that he didn’t consider himself a loved one to his only living relative, but it was his reality.

Brightly lit signs pointed the way to the emergency department. His careful steps down the cool white corridor eventually brought him to the entrance to the emergency room. Rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the tension, he pushed the metal button to open the door.

Approaching what appeared to be a receptionist, he asked for Stephanie. The woman gave a tight smile before picking up the phone and dialing a few numbers. She spoke quietly into the phone and then informed him that Stephanie would be with him shortly. Instead of sitting in one of the chairs offered, he paced in front of the desk while he waited. He knew in his heart his brother was gone.

“Mr. Tate?”

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