pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3
“Hopefully you don’t take this as a mark against your talent. You actually received the highest number of votes this week, but because of the week before, we’re really concerned that your lifestyle isn’t conducive to the image TALENT! is trying to represent.”
The reassurance came with undeniable sincerity, but the blow that followed felt like the verbal equivalent of being pushed on the ground and kicked in the stomach until he couldn’t breathe. Casey couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything but stand there in the conference room — front and center — completely dumbfounded.
“I’m sure you realize how many strings I had to pull to get you off the hook last week,” Byron went on. “And just how dangerous it was for you to show up like that.”
Casey didn’t answer — couldn’t answer. He stood in silence, picking at his nails, lips pursed together. It wasn’t in him to complain or expect special treatment for anything. In fact, he’d hesitated even telling anyone about his living situation so they wouldn’t try and coddle him. In the time he’d been there, he always just tried to push through any exhaustion he was feeling, but it caught up to him, and now it was the end of him.
“You know, some people have gone home for reasons like this, then came back to try again in later seasons. I did.” Felicia Moore was a winner-turned-judge from a few seasons prior. Casey already knew her story, had actually shared a few good conversations with her about it, but it wasn’t enough to save him. Sitting across from him, she sounded like a completely different person. “You can always come back next time, Casey,” she insisted, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t have the resources to just come back next time.
The solace he’d taken in the idea that, if he failed, he could just call his grandparents was only comforting when he was sure he wouldn’t need to.
“Trust me, kid, we really wanted to keep you,” Byron cut in when Casey still couldn’t bring himself to speak. He felt sick all over again. “We don’t want to have to do this, but it’s not just about us here. Believe it or not, it’s about you too. If you’re too sick to perform, you have to speak up, you can’t just walk in like that. And if you’re not in a position to properly take care of yourself, you need to take a step back and prioritize, then come here when you’re good and ready. This isn’t the place for someone who’s not even on their feet yet.”
By then, panic was starting to set in, the idea of it all being just a really bad — really long — nightmare squashed, forcing him to consider his next move. What was his next move? How could he call his grandparents and tell them he messed it all up? Would he ever see Jacob and Isaiah again?
Casey finally managed to breathe, and then after a deep breath, he choke out at least a word. “Cool.” Now that it had settled in, all he wanted to do was run away before either of them had to see him cry about it.
Byron took the lead again, clearing his throat. “Now even though we couldn’t keep you in the competition, we would really like for you to perform one last time on the show.”
Everything suddenly stopped. His heart, Byron and Felicia, everything in the background, processing coming to a screeching halt.
( — Maybe it was lingering delirium, but Casey couldn’t get the comedic record-scratching sound out of his head. )
“Wow.” The word flew off his tongue before he could catch it, carrying a new found rage with it.
“You don’t wanna do it?” Byron asked, glancing at Felicia, who shrugged.
“No, I don’t wanna do it,” Casey snapped at him, taking a step back toward the door. Once everything un-paused, everything kicked into overdrive, a fire ignited within him. “This is humiliating enough with just the three of us, you want me to go out there and humiliate myself more for ratings?”
“Casey, that’s not —”
“— I really think it’s crap that this whole time, you guys were pretty supportive of me, and now you’ve just completely changed your minds. I was upfront about myself. I was upfront so that you could have the chance to eliminate me right off the bat, but you choose to do it now? After showing off my story to everyone to get them to vote for me?”
“This has nothing to do with ratings, Casey,” Felicia said, hushed, like she was hoping he’d follow suit. “The performance was mine and Byron’s idea, we just wanted to give you something. We don’t usually do this for contestants who get eliminated this way.”
“But it was about ratings,” Casey argued, eyebrows arched. “Because the reason you’re kicking me off is because my moral standards or whatever might cause people to not watch the show.”
”Eliminating you wasn’t our decision solely, you have to understand that,” Byron interfered.
“And you have to understand how it looks on my end to be told ‘well we don’t want you on the show because of your life choices, but here, give us one last pity-performance’. I don’t want it. I just wanna go.”
“That’s fine,” Byron said, holding up his hands. “It’s fine if you don’t want to do it, we definitely won’t make you. You’re free to go then, but you can’t yell like that in here. Okay?”
“Fine.” Casey backed down, taking a few steps back toward the door with his arms folded tightly over his chest, teeth grit together. Nothing about it made sense; it felt like being scolded by a parent in a family not even living on Earth.
“Can we arrange a ride for you?”
Casey’s head was spinning, heart pounding like it might jump out of his chest. If he took a step, he felt like his knees might collapse, but he’d accept the risk just to get out of there. At Byron’s final offer, he rolled his eyes, already pulling the door open, already running. “To my car out front?” He remarked. “No, I think I can make it, man.”
