Choosing America's Next Superstar (14 page)

The secret Tristan had confided in him was horrifying, and Jimmy didn’t know what to do about it. There was a part of Jimmy—that visceral, protective side of him—that wanted to go track Reuben Jameson down and beat his face in. At the very least, he had to report it, but he didn’t know to whom. And he’d sworn to Tristan that he’d keep the secret. He’d promised not to tell another living soul.

He knew Tristan was gone for the night. He couldn’t even go find the boy and check on him to make sure he was all right. He was already over at the other hotel, in Reuben’s suite, doing God only knew what.

Jimmy wondered how people like Reuben could get away with this sort of thing. Tristan was just a kid. Granted, he was seventeen, which was probably the age of consent, but he was so innocent. He was naïve and timid to begin with, so unsure of himself. Reuben had to realize that a boy like this was a prime target. He was powerless.

And to make matters worse, Jimmy had hurt the one person he cared about most. By denying his relationship with Corey to Teri, he’d made his roommate feel rejected. Of course Corey would feel as if Jimmy was ashamed of him. Why had he said such a stupid thing? Why had he answered the question at all? He should have just changed the subject, or better yet, told her it was not her business.

It was too early to know exactly where things would end up for Corey and him, but it seemed to Jimmy as if he’d completely blown it. He destroyed the chance they had. When he couldn’t take it anymore, Jimmy finally rolled over, staring at Corey, who was curled in a ball, facing the opposite wall.

“Corey,” he whispered. Corey didn’t respond, didn’t so much as stir. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I was wrong. I’ll tell her the truth… I’ll tell everyone if you want. The whole world. I really like you, and I don’t want to lose you….”

Corey rolled over to face him. Though the room was dark, Jimmy could see the silhouette of Corey’s face, a tear streaming down his cheek. Jimmy slipped out of his bed and dropped to his knees beside Corey.

“I’m sorry,” Corey said, choking back a sob. “It’s my fault. What were you supposed to say? Of course you couldn’t tell her….”

“No, I should have thought about how it’d make you feel. I’m such a jerk-off sometimes.”

“Jimmy…?”

“Yes?”

“Shut the fuck up and get in bed.”

Jimmy scurried to his feet and slid under the covers beside his unofficial boyfriend. They wrapped their arms around each other as Jimmy’s lips found Corey’s.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jimmy promised. “No matter what happens in the contest, we’ll find a way to make it work. We’ll make
us
work.”

“Promise?” Corey asked.

“I swear to God,” Jimmy whispered before kissing him, more passionately than ever.

Chapter Seven

“
W
HERE
the hell is Tristan?” Corey whispered. They were in the theater, sitting in the auditorium, and their group was scheduled to perform within the hour.

“I’ll try calling him again,” Jimmy said. He slipped out of his seat and headed down the aisle toward the lobby. Maybe he should go back to the hotel and check Tristan’s room again, but he’d tried that twice already. The kid either wasn’t in the room, or just wasn’t answering the phone.

Just as Jimmy pressed the call button on his phone, the entrance doors opened, and Tristan stepped through. “Dude, where have you been?” Jimmy said. “I’ve been worried….”

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said, out of breath. “Am I too late?”

“No, you’re not too late, but what happened?”

Tristan stared at him, his eyes wide and teary, and shook his head. “Nothing. I can’t talk about it.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jimmy stepped over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, are you sure?” The boy looked into Jimmy’s face and nodded. Jimmy pulled him into an embrace. “We’ve gotta talk about this. We gotta do something about that guy….”

“No,” he whispered. “Jimmy, please. You promised. Let’s just get through the performance.”

“Can you even perform? Tristan, you’re emotional….”

Jimmy felt the boy cling to him, pressing himself tightly against Jimmy’s body as his own began to tremble. Tristan buried his face in Jimmy’s shoulder and wept, his entire body shaking violently. Jimmy just clung to him, holding him as he cried.

“We need to cancel the performance,” Jimmy said.

“No!” Tristan exclaimed. “Jimmy, you can’t do that. We can’t quit… it will ruin all of us.”

Tristan was right. If they didn’t sing, they’d be automatically eliminated, but how could they expect Tristan to perform in this state? “Come on,” Jimmy said, “let’s go to the bathroom. You need to wash up, and you can tell me what’s going on.” He led the boy down the hall to the washroom.

When they emerged ten minutes later, Jimmy had his arm around Tristan’s shoulder. “Okay, we can do this,” he said. “You know your part, and we’re all ready.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” he said.

As they stepped into the auditorium, Corey and Teri were turned in their seats, looking at them. They both hopped up and headed down the aisle to meet them. “Come on,” Corey said, “they just called our group.” The foursome then made its way down the aisle and headed backstage.

“Tristan, where were you?” Corey said in a stage whisper. He was obviously pissed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I overslept.”

“You overslept?
Today?
” Corey clearly couldn’t believe the ridiculous excuse. He glared at Tristan, then looked over to Jimmy.

“It’s okay,” Jimmy said. “We’re all here now. No matter what you’re feeling, get over it. We can deal with all that afterward. Right now… sing!”

Corey nodded, as did Teri. What Jimmy was saying was true. The group had to stay focused. They couldn’t allow their emotions to interfere with the performance. It was just too important. In group round, the pool of contestants would be whittled down again, this time by half. By the end of the day, only a hundred people would remain in the competition. Although the overall presentation by each group would factor into the judges’ decisions, every individual singer would be judged. Before they left the stage, they would know their fate—if they had made it through or if they were being cut.

It seemed like only seconds later that they were ushered to their positions just offstage, behind the curtain. They were next. Jimmy peered out onto the stage where the previous group was standing. They’d just finished their song and the judges were rendering their decisions. Three of the four contestants did not make it. They were cut, and only one singer made it through.

Seeing it happen was very sobering. Jimmy knew his own group could face the same fate. They had to keep their head in the game. They had to deliver the performance that he knew they were capable of.

“Oh my gosh,” he said, “we’re next.”

When the stage manager motioned them forward, Jimmy reached down to squeeze Corey’s hand. “Break a leg,” he whispered.

The song began with Teri. Her solo was the first verse, and as she belted out her lyrics, the other three sang backup. They joined her in the chorus, and then Tristan stepped forward to sing his part. Jimmy was next, followed by Corey. Of the four parts, Corey’s was the most powerful, and he was the perfect candidate to deliver. As good as he’d been in rehearsal, it didn’t compare to the way he sang on stage, with the music behind him, the perfect acoustics of the theater, and the atmosphere created by the professional lighting. As the four singers joined Corey in delivering the final chorus, Jimmy knew they had nailed it. They’d each mastered their parts perfectly, and at the last note, when the houselights came up, Jimmy was thrilled to look out into the audience and see the entire crowd on their feet applauding. They’d earned a standing ovation from their peers. Even three of the judges were standing.

Of course Reuben was the only judge who was unresponsive. He sat there, arms crossed, waiting for the applause to die down. “Very impressive,” he said stoically. “Not the best song choice, but your delivery was above average.”

“Dawg! You hit it out of the park!” Raymond shouted into his mic. “All four of you—spot
on
! You nailed every line. I didn’t even hear any pitchiness. And, Teri, the way you led things off… Corey, the climactic moment… Jimmy, that deep baritone voice, and Tristan… what can I say? You were fantastic. You threw down the gauntlet! You’re in it to win it!”

The other two judges were equally complimentary. It was Krystal who delivered the judges’ verdict: “Guys, you’re all through to the next round.”

The four of them high-fived and hugged each other, jumping up and down ecstatically. Jimmy grabbed Tristan by the shoulders and looked right into his beaming face. “You did a great job, Tristan. I’m so proud of you.”

If Corey heard him, he didn’t appear to mind. Jimmy knew he should be showering Corey with such praise, but after what Tristan had been through the night before, it was a miracle the kid was even here to sing at all. Before leaving the stage, Jimmy turned to look at the judges. He made eye contact with Reuben, staring at him intently. After a couple seconds, Reuben looked away. Jimmy hated the man, and it was all he could do to hold himself back from storming off that stage and strangling him.

This wasn’t a time for anger, though. It was a day of celebration. All four of the contestants rushed outside and immediately pulled out their cell phones to call home with their good news. They’d be going on in the competition. They all made it into the Top One Hundred and were at the halfway point. They just had two more solo performances to deliver, and God willing, they’d be in the Top Twenty-four with a ticket to Hollywood.

T
HE
foursome spent their afternoon together, celebrating their victory, but they each were aware that their euphoria would be short-lived. That evening they’d be meeting with voice coaches, starting to prepare for their final performance before the last major elimination. The upcoming round would be far more formal than what they’d been through previously. They would go through all of the preparation any artist performing on television would normally endure. Hair. Makeup. Wardrobe. They’d have full musical accompaniment and a stage backdrop that was customized to their song. The one hundred remaining contestants would plan their performances this evening and then have only one day to rehearse.

So after a late lunch and some window-shopping, the group of four headed back to the hotel conference room. There were fifteen voice coaches, each assigned roughly seven contestants to advise. Corey discovered that his coach was none other than the notorious Stella Burbank.
America’s Next Superstar
often ran segments where she was featured, and it was obvious that she was brutal and demanding. Corey held the handout in his hand and turned to Jimmy.

“Oh my God, I’ve got Stella,” he moaned.

“She’s supposed to be the best,” Jimmy said. “You’re lucky.”

“I’ve seen her on TV, and she seems so mean….”

“Who you calling mean, boy?” Corey spun around to face the voice behind him. His mouth dropped open when he realized it was Stella herself.

“Uh… uh….”

“Well, I see my reputation precedes me,” she said, laughing. “And which one of America’s Next Superstars might you be, young man?”

Corey gulped nervously. “Eh, I’m Corey Dunham, ma’am. I’m… uh… sorry about what I said. I meant no disrespect.”

“Don’t ever apologize for speaking the truth. What you said was true. I am
supposed
to be mean. That’s what they say about me, anyway, but that’s because they don’t know me. They don’t know what it is that makes me tick.

“I believe my job is to create winners. Sometimes it’s pretty damn easy. In fact, when you get to this stage of the game, most of the contestants I work with are very talented. It’s not difficult to produce results when you have raw talent to work with. The challenge comes in because all these other coaches are also blessed with talented pupils. Baby, the competition is fierce.

“My job is to push you, to help you achieve your maximum potential. If some folks wanna call that ‘mean’, that’s their business. In my opinion, I’m just doing my job.”

Corey stared at her, afraid to speak for fear she was not quite done with her lecture. “Yes, ma’am,” he squeaked.

“So, Mr. Corey Dunham, tell me about you. What makes Corey Dunham so damned special?”

Corey was about to open his mouth and tell Stella about how he’d always dreamed of being a singer, how he’d known from an early age that singing was his passion, but then he remembered the advice that Jeremy had given him back in Detroit. That was everyone’s story. Every single person in the competition had the same dream and the same passion.

“I’m special because I’m destined to do more with my life than clean toilets or bag groceries in a supermarket. Nothing wrong with those jobs, but I’ve been blessed with an amazing talent, and I’m determined not to waste it! I’m special because I know that music is more to me than just a hobby. It’s more than a passion. It’s the center of my being. It’s what I live for….”