The former idea was good, but as with
every other band that came before or after, everybody had their
differences and went their separate ways.
This band ends up no different, but
they still deserve to have their story recounted.
-------------------------
"Okay, so get this. They're a
group of teenagers that are aiming to become a professional rock and
roll group." One of the men started. He was dressed rather
casual for the meeting he was attending, among the men in suits and
ties, and his hair was still damp, as he ran a little late. "School;
maybe they attend. But the main focus is that they want to be a rock
group."
"Wouldn't they need a guardian if
they're so young?" A fat, balding man spoke up. "Surely you
aren't trying to pitch a show with young kids with no guardian."
The man cursed himself in his head for
not thinking of that, then snapped. A brilliant idea! "One of
the kids is a little older than the others. Say... 18, 19 years old?
They have parents too, of course, but they're somewhere else."
"Why don't they live with their
parents?" An Asian woman asked.
"Different reasons. Maybe one kids
a drop-out, another was sent to boarding school, one was supposedly
sent off to a relative, and another is the older kid's pal, or
sibling or something."
"What do they do beside try to be
a rock group?"
"Whatever it is that teens do, I
don't know. Try to find odd-jobs for money, fall in 'love', go to
school. It'll probably get better as we go along and get it started."
"How many kids do you need?"
"About... ten or fifteen, I think.
The kids for the band would be ideally four or five, Maybe a friend
or two, and extras and so on."
The group of suits mulled it over, in a
bit of a huddle, then came to an agreement.
The Asian woman stood up. "Mr.
Schneider, we'll do it. You can hold auditions for a group of kids
here next week, but you'll have to get fliers out yourself."
Mr. Schneider, who we'll know from now
on in this story as John, tried very hard to suppress a grin
as he shook the hand of the woman who approved of the idea. "Thank
you, Mrs. Yamada, you won't regret it. I promise!"
John purchased an ad for auditions in a
magazine, put fliers up around town, and even sent an invitation to a
random few kids that probably wouldn't have expected it in the least
bit.
The unofficial leader of the band
happened to be one of those who least expect it; and one wonders to
this day how they ended up finding someone in a small town in Ohio.
----------------------
Early on a Saturday afternoon, we see a
sandy-haired teenage boy in the kitchen; dark, sleepy eyes fixed on
the bowl of cereal he was eating. A woman came into the room from
outside, holding a small pile of mail that she was sifting through,
until noticing one of them had her son's name printed on the front,
along with their address.
“Chester, there's something here in
the mail that looks like something you'd be interested in.” The
woman said.
“What is it, mom?” Chester asked,
looking up from his bowl.
“Here.” She said, handing him the
envelope.
He hastily opened it and read the
invitation. “Audition for the next greatest show about a singing
group. Ages 14 to 21. Pre-Auditions held at the Union Township Civic
Center in Eastgate, Ohio. Those chosen will be taken to Los Angeles
for screen-testing and the second auditions, August 5th-21st.
Huh.” Chester read, then looked at his mother. She smiled.
“So does it look like something you'd
want to do?” She asked.
Chester shrugged. “I guess I could
go... I dunno if I'd end up goin' anywhere, though."
His mother hugged him around his neck,
and kissed him on the top of his head. "You'll do fine, hon."
---------------------------
Chester's eyes darted around the small
white waiting room, which him and a few other kids were crammed into.
It was decorated very plainly, as all offices are; A fake green plant
was perched in either corner, and there were a few uncomfortably
cushy seats sat in a row by the door that led to the office, where
the auditions were taking place.
He couldn't stand it anymore. A minute
longer in that room and he would have suffocated.
"Chester Harris, will you come on
back?" A woman with graying hair asked the clearly nervous
Chester. "We're ready for you."
Chester took a deep breath and exhaled.
"You'll be okay, Chessy. Don't you
worry." Mrs. Harris gave him a reassuring pat on the back and
Chester went off into the room as the last kid came out.
"Are you Chester Harris?" A
man sitting behind a table asked.
"Yes, sir..."
"Do you think you can read a few
lines?" The man asked, giving him a sheet of paper.
"Uh... sure, sure." He said,
taking it and glancing it over. "Dan, what on earth are
you doing on the floor?" He started.
"What does it look like? I'm
sulking, obviously."
Chester cocked his head to the side,
rolling his eyes. "Haha, funny man. Really, though. Why're ya
sulkin'?"
"It's that whole deal with
Vanessa! She's a really cool girl, but now she's failing her studies,
I feel kinda responsible for it."
"...Oh. I see. Well, jeez. It's
not your fault she got distracted, it's hers. Not like you talked her
into failing." He took a pause. "You didn't, did you?"
"No, no! Why would I wanna do
that?"
Chester gave a shrug of the shoulder.
"I dunno. But what do you want to do about it?"
"I want to help her!"
"Well, how are you gonna do that?
Sneak into her class and whisper the answers in her ear?"
The man looked confused for a moment,
and he looked down at the script;. That line was not in it.
"Alright, Mr. Harris. we'll contact you after the auditions are
done, if you got the part. Sound good?"
Chester nodded. "Yes, sir.
Goodbye." He said quickly, then went out the door.
"So? How did you do?" Mrs.
Harris asked.
Chester shrugged. "They'll let me
know tomorrow."
Mrs. Harris smiled. "That's
wonderful!"
---------------------------
So Chester went about his usual
business as he did every day, running errands for his grandmother and
mother.
"God, I can't believe I drove all
the way to fucking Harrison and back for nothing." He grumbled
as he tossed his keys on the counter.
The phone rang, and Chester quickly
went to pick it up. "Hello, who is this?" He asked.
"Yes, this is Martin Greig. From
Jones talent agency. This is concerning your audition yesterday?"
Chester's eyes widened and his
heartbeat seemed to quicken. "Y-yeah, what about it?"
"Chester, you've been chosen to go
on to the next audition in Los Angeles."
"Really? No joke? Please don't be
messing with me, you almost gave me a heart-attack."
"No, it's not a joke. You will be
flown out to L.A. in a couple days. Have a good day!" The man
said, then hung up.
Chester stood there with his mouth hung
open for a moment and the receiver pressed to his ear, before he let
it drop to go look for his mom. "MA! MOM! I got the job!"
----------------------------
“Enrique, can I see you for a
moment?” An older man called to a curly-haired boy down the long
hallway of the Colorado high school.
“Hmm?" The boy whipped his head
around to see the teacher, dark brown curls bouncing as he did so.
The man made a gesture for him to come
closer.
"Alright..." The boy replied,
walking toward him. “What is it, sir?” He asked.
“You enjoy acting, right?” The
older man asked.
Enrique nodded “Yes, I do. Why?” He
asked.
“Well, a friend of mine is holding
auditions for a show that's filming in California.” The man
explained.
Enrique's eyes lit up. “Really?” He
asked.
“Yes. It's tomorrow in our very own
school's auditorium and I think you should audition.” The older man
replied. "They're auditioning everyone in twos, so bring someone
along to audition with."
“I'll do it, Mr. Vega! Thank you!”
Enrique said, beaming, then scurrying to class.
---------------------------
Enrique was watching the other
auditions in the large, dark auditorium, waiting for his and his
partner's own turn to come up, which seemed to be an hour's wait.
“Jillian Jones and Matthew Rockford,
Up on stage." A silver haired woman called, then pursing her
lips and appraising the couple that ran on stage, from her chair.
From where Enrique and his friend Tori
were sitting behind her, the woman looked like any ordinary older
woman, though Enrique knew better than to think she was. She was one
of the suited women from our earlier meeting with Mr. Schneider; and
given the fact that he had her flown specially out to Colorado to do
the audition meant that she was of great importance. Neither Enrique
or Tori knew of this, but Enrique was still horrified of messing up
in front of her nonetheless.
"Ricky, you alright?" Tori
asked the boy.
"I think I'm going to be sick..."
Enrique said, tilting his head back and taking deep breaths.
Tori rolled her eyes. "Come on
man, keep it together. She's not that scary."
"James Knight and Logan Pena!"
The woman shouted, seemingly irate with the last performance.
Enrique covered his face with his hands
and moaned a little.
"Oooookay, maybe she is a little,
but it'll be over before ya know it!"
"What if I mess up?" Enrique
asked pathetically.
"Yeah right, like I'll let that
happen to you." Tori answered, punching Enrique's arm.
"Heh..." He rubbed his arm
where it was punched.
"Honest. I'll make sure you don't
mess up. Alright?" Tori asked, giving Enrique a smile now that
he had his hands off his face.
He gave a small smile back. "Yeah,
alright..."
"Good kid."
"Carlos Diamond and Kendall
Henderson." The woman called, tone softened considerably, as if
pleased.
"Wait, what routine are we doing
again?" Enrique asked, suddenly hit with a flurry of worries.
"Uh--"
"Please tell me I--" Enrique
felt around his pockets and found a note, which he hoped was the note
he had written earlier for himself, but he doubted it was. "Oh,
thank god."
"What?"
"I remember now. It's okay, it's
alright. Is it hot in here?" He asked, mopping his brow.
"Ugh, Rick, quit squirreling out.
It'll be fine, okay? Let me see the note." Tori asked.
"Tori Burke and Enrique Suarez--”
The woman called out as the previous boys trudged offstage.
"COMING!" Enrique shouted,
cutting her off, then taking Tori by the wrist and running up
on-stage.
The woman gave a sigh and look of
exasperation at squirrely Enrique's antic, then wrote something on
her clipboard. "Proceed."
Enrique cleared his throat and tried to
remember his line, looking at Tori.“Rosie, I can’t let you go
through with this.” He said.
“But why not? It’s not like I have
anything to lose!” Tori asked, crossing her arms and turning away
from him.
“What do you mean you have ‘nothing
to lose’! You could lose yourself and you know it.” Enrique
retorted, wagging a finger at her.
“So what if I do? It’s not like I’m
anything special!” She turned back to him, uncrossing her arms and
gesturing around the room. “And this is my chance to leave my mark
on the world and make myself special.”
“But you don’t need to do it like
this, Rose.” He said, and went over to her and took her hand. “Why
can’t you see that you’re already special? To me--”
"That's enough." The woman
said, holding up her hand. "We'll contact you both in a couple
of days."
Enrique let out a sigh, feeling as if
it were a bad sign. "O-oh... alright..." He said.
----------------------------
Enrique came home after a particularly
long day of school and pulled a dried spitball out of his curls.
"Ew..." He groaned as he laid down on the ugly, but
comfortable couch.
"Ricky! There's a woman on the
phone for you!" Ricky's mother called from the kitchen.
Enrique groaned and pulled himself up
from the comfort of the couch and dragged himself to the kitchen,
placing the receiver to his ear as his mother offered it to him.
"Hello, who is this?" He asked, rubbing at one eye.
"This is Dolores Epstein. I'm one
of the representatives of Mr. Schneider."
His eyes widened a little at the
answer. "Oh! Well... what's the news about the audition?"
He asked, tugging at a curl nervously.
"You've made it through along with
seven other boys."
His eyes widened further. "Really?
And what about Tori?" He asked.
There was a long pause, and just before
he was about to ask 'Hello' and make sure she hadn't hung up, he
received an answer. "She made it through as well."
A smile spread across his face at the
answer. "Oh wow! Great! When, uh... when are we being--"
"You'll be flown out to California
in a couple days. Have a good day."
"Y-you too!" He said, waited
for the woman to hang up, then hung up himself, and looked at his
mother with his jaw dropped.
"You got the call-back?" She
asked excitedly.
"I did! Oh my god!" He
answered, hugging the slender woman and quickly let go. "I need
to get packed now! I'll finish my homework after I'm done, okay?"
He asked over his shoulder as he ran to his room.
----------------------
“Gregg-o, somethin' came in the mail
for ya.” A 20-something year old man called out to the Brown-haired
boy he was charged with watching over, coming in with a heap of mail,
and holding aloft one letter for his brother.
“What is it?” He asked, hopping on
the counter and opening the envelope.
“Not sure, read it.” The older boy
said.
“Okay then... Mr. Gregory Swift,
we are pleased to inform you that out of the hundreds of kids who
auditioned at the Mahaffey Theater last week, you are one of the
fifteen who is going through to Hollywood. You, along with the
fifteen kids and one family member, will be flown out to California
for interviews and screen-testing and the second auditions. Oh my
god!” Greg read.
”Dude, no way! Who're you gonna
take?” The older boy asked.
“You, obviously. I mean... you took
me there, anyway."
-----------------------------
"I'm gonna go get a snack."
Greg's brother, Dave whispered, from his seat behind Greg.
"'Kay..." Greg whispered
back. He was sat back in a chair, arms crossed behind his head and
feet up on the seat in front of him, looking particularly bored with
the whole scene of girls and boys being chased off the stage, some
crying, some very red-faced with embarrassment at flubbing up lines
and getting yelled at for it.
"Aren't you nervous at all?"
Asked the freckled boy with the neatly-parted blond hair sitting
beside Greg.
"Huh?" Greg responded,
looking over at him.
"You nervous?" The boy asked
again, slightly rephrasing.
"Oh... uh, no. Not really."
Greg replied.
"Pfft... You should be..."
The olive-skinned boy on the other side of Greg scoffed, combing
through the mass of curls on his head.
Greg rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and
why's that?" He asked, turning a smirk on him. "'Cause I'm
not a walking stereotype?"
The other boy scowled.
"Need some Aloe Vera, Denny?"
The blonde asked.
"Shut the hell up, Kyle." The
other boy said, crossing his arms and sinking in his seat.
The blond shrugged, then addressed
Greg. "Hey, sorry about that, man. Denny's kind of a grouch."
Greg raised a brow. "Yeah, I
noticed. ... No big deal, I guess. What's your name?" He asked.
"Kyle Stromberg!" The blond
said, offering a hand to shake.
"Ah..." Greg shook his hand.
"Greg Swift."
"Nice to meet you, Greg! Good
luck!"
"... You too." He said.
-----------------------------
“Are you excited, Xavier? This is
such a big day for you. I'm so proud for getting this far. Oh, your
grandmother would have been so thrilled to see you...” A
fair-haired Irish woman said as she stroked the head of her little
red-haired son.
The boy didn't take notice and kept
scribbling lyrics down in his notebook, strapped into the passenger
seat of the rental car they had to take half way across the country,
as the production company couldn't get a flight from Ireland to Los
Angeles.
“Xavier.” She repeated, trying to
get his attention. Xavier didn't look up, and continued his
scribbling.
"Xavier. Can yeh hear me?” She
asked again, snapping her fingers in front of him.
Xavier, flushed in embarrassment of not
having heard his mother several times, looked up. “Huh? Oh, I'm
sorry mum... I was busy writin', what was it?” He asked.
“Are you excited?” She asked again.
“Oh, yeh... and a little nervous.”
Xavier replied.
“Why?” His mother asked.
He squirmed a little in his seat,
adjusting himself so he sat up a little, and sighed. “Well, I
mean... what if they don't like me? We paid so much money for the
rental and gas, and came so far. I'm probably nowhere near as good as
the other kids who auditioned, they might have jus' felt bad for me
because the other kids there were pickin' on me...” He replied,
looking back down at his notebook.
“Don't worry, Xavier. You have such
an amazing talent for actin'. They wouldn't just turn you away.
They'd have to be insane to do that, you're such a wonderful boy.”
His mother reassured him.
Xavier smiled a little at his mother
and blushed modestly. “Thank you, mum...” He said, and went back
to his writing.
-------------------------
Xavier had been sitting up against one
of the blank walls of the decently-sized room, waiting for his turn
to read some lines from the script he was given upon entering.
Everybody participating would be paired
together at random to perform, and it seemed to Xavier that everybody
else in the choir room was talking to each other in there own little
gaggle, save for Xavier who was sitting alone.
“Oi, you.” An angry looking boy
much larger than Xavier growled, kicking him in the thigh.
“Ow! What was that for?!” Xavier
whined, rubbing the tender spot where he was kicked.
“For you to get up, I was
sittin’ there, shortbread.” The boy replied.
"What do you mean? I didn't see
you here at all before." Xavier countered, squinting up at the
larger boy.
"I had to go to the bathroom!"
The boy shouted.
"Well, tough crap for you then..."
Xavier mumbled, and the larger boy picked him up by the collar.
"What did you say to me?" The
boy asked through grit teeth, dark brows furrowed together.
"I said... tough crap...for you?"
Xavier said, confused as to what he said wrong.
"Get out of here, shrimp."
The larger boy said, dropping him and pushed him over. "You
don't belong here, especially if you're this stupid."
Xavier picked himself up, and frowned.
"I have just as much right to be here as you do!" He
shouted indignantly.
"Hah. And who put that idea in
your head, eh? Yer mum?" The larger boy laughed.
"N-no..." Xavier mumbled.
"And she wouldn't have, either! I
bet you're nothing but a mistake to 'er."
Xavier gave a pout, lip quivering.
"N-no I'm not! I'm not!"
"Oh, are you gonna go cryin' to
her, then?" He gave a fake gasp. "You're gonna go tell on
me, ain't yeh!"
"SHUT UP!" Xavier shouted,
eyes threatening to start tearing up.
"Shannon O'Hara and Xavier
O'Toole, up on stage, please!" A young woman called out to the
room.
Xavier quickly dashed over to the stage
to meet the girl who he'd be performing with and said a quick hello.
He took a couple deep, slow breaths
before he started reading. "Lizzie, please tell me the truth
about all this. No more lies."
"You wouldn't understand it,
Jack."
"Why is it you think I wouldn't?"
"Well, you had this whole big life
that you left behind when you came to live with the guys. A big house
and a happy family and anything you could've ever wanted. I didn't
have any of that. I was on my own."
"So that's it? You think
because I had more in my life that I wouldn't understand?"
"Yeah, basically!"
"I thought you trusted me! Why
would I have acted any different?"
"I felt if you found out I came
from poverty that you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore."
"I don't care about money.
I became friends with you when I first came here. Not
mone--"
The woman in charge of the audition put
a hand up to signal they should stop. "That's enough. We'll
call you tomorrow."
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