MidReal Story
Melodies of Betrayal: Mansion of Hearts
Scenario: Party Music video
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Lucas Greene
lead singer of the band, romantically involved with Emily, tall with tousled black hair, charismatic and protective.
Mia Torres
band manager and Emily's best friend, supportive of Emily and Lucas, sleek brunette with sharp features, pragmatic and witty.
Emily Hart
aspiring singer, friends with the bandmates, petite with curly brown hair, ambitious and sensitive.
The mansion is huge.
It’s the first thing I think as we pull up to the front gates in our tour bus.
The second thing I think is that I’m going to be sick.
I’ve been dreading this day for weeks, and now it’s finally here.
I can’t believe it’s finally here.
“Em, you okay?”
Mia asks me from her seat at the front of the bus.
I nod, even though she can’t see me.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
She turns around in her seat and gives me a look.
“You don’t look fine.”
I shrug and try to smile at her, but it feels like my face is frozen in place.
“I’m just nervous, that’s all.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile and turns back around in her seat.
I know she’s right—I don’t look fine—but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
We’re here, and there’s no turning back.
Not that I would turn back even if I could.
We all know it’s a big deal, even if none of us have said it out loud.
I mean, it’s not like we’ve never taken promo photos before.
We’ve been in magazines and newspapers and on TV plenty of times.
But this is different.
This is our first music video, and our first single is dropping in less than two weeks.
We’re taking a huge step forward today, and there’s no going back.
I’ve been so focused on not thinking about the music video that I didn’t stop to think about what would happen once we got here.
The gate begins to open, and I can see the mansion through the trees.
We drive up the long, winding driveway and finally come to a stop near the front doors.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
Mia stands up and stretches her arms out over her head.
“Come on, guys.”
She grabs her bag from the overhead compartment and heads for the door.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand up, swaying slightly as the bus rocks back and forth under me.
I grab my bag from the overhead compartment and pull it down, slinging it over my shoulder as I make my way toward the front of the bus.
I step off the bus and into the bright sunlight.
My eyes close against the sudden glare, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
Behind me, I can hear the rest of the band getting off the bus, their voices filled with excitement and nerves.
I hear the sound of someone clearing their throat beside me, and I open my eyes to find Lucas Greene standing there, looking down at me with a smirk on his face.
“Come on, Em,” he says, holding out his hand for me to take.
I smile up at him and take his hand in mine, letting him lead me off the bus and toward the mansion.
The last thing I need right now is more attention, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
Lucas is as much of a spotlight whore as he is an ass.
He loves the attention, and he doesn’t care who knows it.
He’s also the lead singer of our band—and my not-so-secret love interest—so he gets more attention than anyone else whether he wants it or not.
“Thanks,” I say to him once we’re standing on solid ground again.
“You’re such a gentleman.”
He grins down at me and winks.
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
I shake my head at him and pull my hand away from his.
“Don’t call me that.”
He chuckles and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he falls into step beside me.
“Sorry, baby.”
I stop and turn to glare at him, but he just grins and keeps walking.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I follow him toward the mansion.
“Love you too,” he calls back over his shoulder without breaking stride.
“I’m not wasting my time with him,” I say with a grin.
“I’m not wasting my time with him,” I say with a grin.
“What do you think?”
“Good,” she replies with a grin of her own.
We both know that’s not what I meant, but I decide to let it go for now.
She asks as she steps down off the bus beside me and falls into step with me again.
No need to get all mushy and sentimental when we’re about to get down to business.
“It’s huge,” I say as we walk together toward the mansion.
It’s way bigger than anything we’ve ever played before.”
“Let’s go find Lucas and the rest of the guys,” Mia says, giving my shoulder one last squeeze as we start walking again.
Mia laughs and shoves her hands into the pockets of her skinny jeans as she walks beside me.
I don’t look back, but I can feel the weight of the mansion on my shoulders as we make our way through the house and out the back door to the pool where the rest of the band is waiting for us.
“We’ll be playing stadiums before you know it.”
The director—a guy named Garret—meets us there and fills us in on the plan for the day.
We’ll start by filming everyone in different rooms in the mansion and then move outside for some shots in the rose garden and pool area.
“I hope so,” she says with a grin.
I’m counting on it.”
But the big finale is supposed to be filmed in the ballroom, and I can hardly wait.
The ballroom is so beautiful that I’m almost afraid to go inside of it.
I stop walking and stare up at the mansion as we approach it again.
It’s absolutely massive, with columns lining the front walkway and a giant fountain out front that’s flanked by two more columns that are topped with statues of naked women holding large urns over their heads.
The walls are painted the palest shade of pink, and there are huge crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
The floor is covered in shiny white marble tiles that make me feel like I’m skating across a frozen pond when I walk across them.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be singing in there,” I say, my voice filled with awe and wonder.
And there’s a grand piano in the center of the room.
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time,” Mia reminds me as she places her hand on my shoulder and gives me a little shake.
I can’t think of a more perfect place to sing a song I wrote.
“Don’t worry, kiddo—you’ve got this.”
I smile up at her and take a deep breath, willing myself to believe her even if I’m not really sure that I do.
And then after we’re done with this first video shoot, I’ll keep writing more songs and I’ll write them with Lucas.
And instead of just playing my music for anyone who will listen to me, I’ll be able to perform my music on stages all over the world in front of thousands of screaming fans.
She gives me a little shake of her own, as if she knows what I’m thinking and expects me to snap out of it any second now.
“Come on, Em,” she says as she starts walking again, her hand still on my shoulder.
I glance around to see if anyone else is as nervous as I am about getting started, but no one is.
“Let’s go meet the director and get started.”
In fact, Lucas is standing right beside me without a care in the world.
He looks like he always does—tall with tousled black hair and a perfect set of cheekbones that could cut glass.
“Now or never, right?”
She asks as we make our way down the front walkway together.
He’s wearing his customary all-black ensemble today too, and it makes me want to laugh because it’s so predictable.
But his clothes are a stark contrast to his attitude because he looks completely at ease out here on the back patio surrounded by cameras and crew members.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
She asks, her voice filled with so much confidence that I almost—almost—believe her.
His dark eyes are crinkled around the edges as he grins and talks animatedly with his bandmates.
“I could fall on my face,” I tell her as we step through the front doors of the mansion and into the cool darkness of the foyer.
Or forget the words.Or throw up all over the place.” I shake my head and stare at the ground so I don’t have to meet her eyes again when I say this last part.
“I could fail.”
Mia stops walking and tugs on my arm until I turn to face her.
Her hands are still on my shoulder, and she’s looking down at me with a soft smile on her face that makes my heart swell in my chest.
“That’s not going to happen,” she says firmly, as if that’s enough to make it true.
“You’ve worked too hard for that to happen.”