Chapter Text
It was barely 2:00 in the afternoon, and Blake Shelton was already sweating under the glare of the studio lights. His revolving chair faced the audience, to whom he occasionally sent a wink or a smile. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the crew running around, trying desperately to stay on schedule; the latest season of The Voice was into it’s 5th day of filming, and every day brought a new set of challenges. The talent pool was decent enough, but after four seasons and three consecutive wins, Blake was starting to grow a bit listless during the audience stages. There were only so many times you could hear a poor-man’s Adele and still stay positive. Hell, if it wasn’t for the other coaches, he might have called it quits ages ago.
“Reality show star” was never a career path Blake had seen himself getting into, but it had allowed him a unique opportunity to break into a world of people who didn’t keep up with the country music scene. While his music had remained decidedly untouched, the response from the public to both his personality and talent had been overwhelming. Never, in all the years Blake had been performing, had he felt so accepted by a community of people. He had actually become something of a “fan favorite” on the show, surprising considering he shared the stage with music royalty, a Rock/R&B superstar, and a genuine musical heartthrob. Gwen Stefani and Pharrell were thick as thieves, had been even before they had signed on as coaches. They got to sit in the two middle chairs and talk about ideas for performances and remixes, or whatever the hell they liked to talk about. Gwen was like a sister to Blake – cute, tough as nails, and usually infuriatingly right. Pharrell was like the cooler older cousin who knew the most obscure things and would spend the better part of two hours telling you about them. They were all family, but it had been the fourth coach who Blake had really bonded with since they had started this whole thing. He envied the fact that Gwen and Pharrell got to sit together in the middle, while he felt separated from his buddy (though it didn’t stop them from making trouble during tapings). Blake just couldn’t believe it; who would have guessed that he’d ever become best friends with a Canadian crooner called Michael Bublé?
The audience laughed as Blake gave Michael an enthusiastic wave. It was no secret on set that their relationship was one of the reasons the show was a such a hit. Fans loved them together, and while the term bromance was thrown around in the media, Blake didn’t mind kissing him and hugging him like he did all his friends. Bublé gave as much as he got and took it all in the spirit of good fun. They occasionally got wind of what fans were saying online (comments ranged from light-hearted awws to...decidedly more x-rated awws), but they didn’t care much as long as everyone was having fun with the show. Michael was married, and Blake kept his personal life close to his chest every since his last, very public breakup. They both knew that anything made up by their fans was mostly for the fun of it, so it was worth it to throw a little wink to the audience and make sure at least one or two kisses made it on camera.
“Penny for your thoughts, Shelton.”
Blake looked up and realized Michael had made his way over to his side of the stage. He grinned and said, “Wouldn’t want to overcharge you buddy.”
“I thought you were gonna fall asleep a minute ago and me and Carson would have to drag your ass backstage.” Michael laughed. “I think we’re almost finished now anyway. I heard Mark say there were only one or two people left to see.”
“Thank Christ for that,” Blake groaned, stretching his arms over his head with a deep yawn.
Michael eyed him. “What, long night?”
“Nah,” Blake replied. “Nothing to do but sleep in that house. Just bored by L.A.”
“Hold on till the end of the week and we’ll change that,” Michael said. “We’re all due for a night out, especially you. I just hope you can keep up.”
Blake laughed, “Hey, I may be old but I can still drink your ass under the table!”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, Shelton.”
A signal from one of the AD’s sent Michael scrambling back to his seat and a series of directions followed for the talent and audience alike. Blake slapped himself awake, earning him another bout of laughter from the audience as the lights began to dim. As the AD called for quiet, Blake tried to focus. He shot the other judges a look as they tried to determine who might be walking out on stage. It was oddly quiet, though Blake could see some members in the audience strain their necks for a better look.
Then the music started.
It was familiar, in a way Blake knew way too well. It was only when the verse started that he realized it was one of his own songs – Honey Bee – transformed from a country song to something much more pop-rock, made only better by the person singing it.
This might come out a little crazy
A little sideways, yeah maybe
I don't know how long it'll take me but I'll do my best
It was a guy, for sure; the pitch was brought up to feature the falsetto in his voice, but from time to time Blake could hear him dip into his lower register, and it hit him square in the chest. He glanced at the other coaches again; he could tell they all thought the same thing – this guy was the real deal.
Michael hit the button first. He got it in just as the guy reached the third line, followed soon after by Pharrell and Gwen. Blake knew he should follow suit, but he was too caught up in listening to his song, the song he had written and crafted, being sung by another person in such a different light. It was good, in a way that made him forget about the heat of the lights and about just how tired he was, and allowed him to focus on the music.
He wanted this guy.
As his chair turned, the lit up sign proclaiming "I Want You" suddenly seemed incredibly appropriate. Whatever Blake had been expecting the person to look like, it didn’t nearly match up with the result – the guy was probably in his late twenties or early thirties, incredibly handsome with tattoos snaking down his arms, but Blake loved it. As the song closed out, the audience erupted while Blake got to his feet. He stared the guy down, as if to say, “Let’s do this.” Blake knew there was still only a 25% chance of getting what he wanted, but he had to make it happen.
As everyone calmed down, Gwen was the first to speak up. “Wow! Okay, what’s your name?”
“Adam Levine, I’m from here in L.A.” Another cheer went through the audience as Adam raised his arms in triumph. Already winning them over, Blake thought.
“Look, maybe we’d better let Blake speak first since he looks ready to jump you,” Michael smirked and Blake would kill him later, but right now he didn’t care.
“Listen,” Blake started. The entire studio was silent. “I’ve never heard one of my songs done like that before. It was…look, it was just awesome, dude.”
“Thanks man,” Adam said, sincerely, while the crowd clapped. “I just,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, either overwhelmed or unsure of what to say or both. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I’m more ready than I’ve ever been to get started.”
Blake smiled, “Oh we’re gonna get along great.”
“All due respect,” Adam smirked, clearly joking, “But who said I was going to pick you?” As everyone laughed, Blake couldn’t hide his own grin, whilst thinking What an asshole.
“Well, I mean you clearly love my music, why wouldn’t you pick me?”
Adam shrugged, still smiling, “How come you were the last one to push your button?”
“What a good point the man makes!” Michael yelled to applause.
“I’m an LA girl,” Gwen said, making her case. “I love your whole deal, your voice is AWESOME. I’d really love to work with you given the chance. I just can’t get over you doing a country song, what a great idea, right?” She turned to Pharrell.
“Absolutely,” he nodded in reply. “Your voice seems really versatile, but I’m getting a rock and R&B vibe from you. What made you choose a country song for today?”
Adam glanced at Blake, and said, “To me, music is music. I don’t get caught up in genres really, I like what I like and I make it work for me. It’s all about – “
“Growth.”
Blake and Adam locked eyes, and that was it; it was a done deal.
“So who are you going to pick?” Gwen asked.
“I know it was a big risk to sing your song, Blake,” Adam said. “But I think you understood why I wanted to do it, and I think we’re gonna get along great. I love you all, but I choose Blake!”
While the other coaches rolled their eyes and laughed, Blake stood, victorious, grinning from ear to ear. When Adam passed by, he opted for a handshake instead of a hug, but as Adam leaned in, Blake could just make out the words “Thank you.” Blake smiled at him, and said, “We’re gonna win this thing.”
Blake chose not to read too much into the goose bumps that gathered on his skin, despite the heat of the studio, nor could he stop thinking about the guy for the rest of the day. There was something about Adam Levine that Blake couldn’t put his finger on it.
It was going to be a long season.