Big Time by Tom; Ryan Page B

think it would be really neat if we could pick songs with different musical styles, but that’s not totally necessary as long as they sound good. We should probably pick something that’s got good energy too, since we’ll hopefully be doing it for an audience.”
    â€œWhat kind of audience?” I ask.
    â€œI’m not sure yet.” She smiles at us. “I’ll figure something out. I know I don’t want to keep these beautiful voices all to myself. Speaking of beautiful voices, I need everyone to take one last shot at thinking of someone who can possibly step in as a bass for us. It would be great to have the low register covered. Come on, guys, one of you must know somebody who fits the bill.”
    I’m looking around at the blank faces in the room when I realize I do know somebody. The only problem is, I don’t know how to find him.

    Meg is only too eager to help me figure out how to contact Keith.
    â€œYou didn’t even get his last name?” she asks.
    â€œNo,” I tell her. “Except for the audition and a couple of minutes at the mall, I’ve barely even talked to the guy.”
    We’re in my room. Meg is on my laptop, trying to find him online. She does a quick Facebook search and comes up with a bunch of Keiths who go to local high schools. I stand behind her and peer over her shoulder as she scrolls through the list, but I don’t recognize any of them.
    â€œThis is probably pointless,” I say, sitting back down on my bed. “I tried to find him on Facebook too. He’s either not on it or he has pretty tight privacy settings.”
    â€œDon’t be so quick to give up,” she says. “We’re just getting started. Haven’t you seen CSI ? We just have to dig a little bit deeper.”
    â€œI don’t even know what to say if we find him,” I say.
    â€œI think you’re going to have to explain this to me one more time,” she says. “Why exactly are you looking for this guy?”
    â€œThe choral group needs a bass,” I say. “A deep male voice.”
    â€œHe’ll probably be all over that,” she says. “Guys love when girls ask them to join nerdy music clubs.”
    â€œMaybe you’re right,” I say. “Maybe he’ll think it’s stupid.”
    â€œRelax,” she says. “I’m just joking. Kind of. It’s a reason to get in touch with a cute guy, at least.”
    She closes her eyes and chews on her lip, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then she starts typing, quickly throwing different word combinations into the search box.
    â€œIs this him?” she asks after a few seconds. I come back over and look at the screen. Sure enough, it’s Keith’s face in a YouTube window.
    â€œThat’s him!” I say.
    â€œHe has his own channel,” she says, clicking through. Not only does he have his own channel, but he’s posted dozens of videos and has a ton of followers. Meg plays one video and we watch as Keith says hey to his audience, then picks up his guitar and begins to play and sing. It’s an old blues tune and it sounds really great. His guitar playing is excellent, and his voice is deep and smooth. I know he could easily sing the bass parts for choral. When the song ends, we start another one, then another. He plays lots of blues and folk music, some of his own stuff and even a few newer songs that he’s put his own twist on.
    â€œHe’s good, hey?” I ask.
    â€œYeah,” she says. “Now we just have to leave him a comment and tell him to get in touch with you.”
    â€œDo you think that’s a good idea? Maybe he’ll be embarrassed that I found him this way.”
    â€œHe has his own online fan base, Gerri. Something tells me he isn’t a shy daisy.” She scrolls down to the comments section of his most recent video and is about to type something, but I stop her.
    â€œLet me