Confessions of a Backup Dancer (2 page)

the way he was staring at me, boring into my eyes, was almost freaky and it made me believe him for a second. I go, ok yes. I believe it!

without taking his eyes off of mine or even blinking, he goes, ok, I think we're ready.

I was like, ready for what?

he goes, “Kelly, that t-shirt I brought you is special. it's for your audition tomorrow.” then he reached into his cargo pocket, pulled out a flyer, and handed it to me. “You're going to be famous. Stop one on the fame train is tomorrow.”

I looked down at the flyer. on one side was a silhouette of a girl who was like jamming in front of a bunch of bright stage lights. her hair was flying, and she looked like she was going THERE, too.

I flipped it over.

How
REAL
are you?

Wanted: FUTURE POP STARS!

We're looking for the fiercest, flyest, REALEST females, ages 15-20, for all-new all-girt pop group. Must be able to dance, sing, and totally work it onstage. Be willing to show your belly. (Pierced belly buttons preferred but not required.)

Do YOU have what it takes? Be at SvenGali Studio, Santa Monica Blvd., Third Floor.

Friday May 24, 10 am. Ask for Don Dezer.

Have one dance routine and one song ready. Be prepared to stay all day. Bring the realness.

DON'T SHOW IF YOU CAN'T REPRESENT!

Out loud, I was like yeah RIGHT. we get these flyers in the dance studio all the time! but you never hear about anyone ever actually going to one. forget it tito. these things are bogus. but on the inside, I was like omigod could you imagine?

Tito was still staring at me. he was like no, I'm serious, how do you know it's bogus unless you go? besides I'll go with you.

“no way that sounds like the dumbest thing ever,” I told him. but inside I was instantly tripping, hard.

DON'T SHOW IF YOU CAN'T REPRESENT!

I mean, hello!! I could represent! I mean, picture me at the audition … i would soooo be representing. so good (so REAL) they'd totally cancel plans for whatever random all-girl group and make me a solo act.

Kelly Kimball, Pop Star!

I could picture the whole thing. me onstage at some huge massive concert, like MTV Spring Break only bigger, and everyone totally chanting for me “Kel-LY! KelLY!” And get this—it's an all-star crowd. I could see
Nelly chanting for me. Britney Spears is there with Beyonce. I could see Pink. I could see Christina Aguilera (or is it Xtina now?). I could see Pashmina, the so-called Anti-Darcy, I could see Jesse Nixon with Justin Timberlake. (anyone feel like a sandwich?!) I could even see Darcy Barnes, the Darcy Barnes, shouting my name. I closed my eyes so I could hear them better. on that stage I was a universe away from my real life, my poor-ass self, evan, my delinquent brother, my crazy mother, my evil stepfather and his grotesque twin daughters. I was Kelly Kimball, pop star, and that's all I could see.

the studio phone rang somewhere in the background but I ignored it. I mean, this is a pretty good daydream here. In fact I have it a lot. I mean ALL THE TIME. even more than the one about the Jesse/Justin sandwich.

But that daydream is a fantasy. I go, Tito, we can't go. i have school tomorrow and so do you. it's not happening.

he goes, We're going.

I go, be serious, Tito. I don't even have a routine, are you crazy?

he goes, what do you call what you just did in there? I am telling you now that you were flawless.

you know, tito, I said, if we lived in LA we could go to auditions like this all the time, but we live in San Diego, which is too far away from SvenGali studios. thanks for the ego boost, though. I forced a smile.

Then Tito goes, I don't know what you're talking about.

we're going. I already arranged it. I'll pick you up at 6 AM. Our bus leaves at 6:15. I realized he was waving bus tickets in my face. I go, are you KIDDING?

he goes, I am so NOT kidding. then he stopped spinning, he goes, Kelly, this is your time. your dream could happen. but you have to let it happen.

I didn't say anything even though my mind was racing. I can't go. I can't go. why can't I go? what if I go, what could happen? I opened my mouth to talk a couple of times but couldn't come up with anything.

tito goes, Besides, think of the money. the money.

it was then that I realized we really were going to LA to SvenGali Studios on the 6:15 bus. Tomorrow. I think I'll bring the Beatz laptop so I can write.

I need an altoid.

FRIDAY MAY 24

SVENGALI STUDIOS

LOS ANGELES, 11:15
AM

Outfit:
orange cargo shorts (at the knee, not capris), Tito's cowboy t-shirt. sports bra, which is currently digging into my armpit, note: ass looks great in these shorts.

Hair:
pulled underneath into my old Astros baseball cap.

Mood:
need caffeine

Fortune:
Eat a good breakfast.

omigod I think I've lost it. I'm crazy. am I crazy? I've definitely lost it.

no I haven't.

yes I have.

we're really here. I'm about to audition.

the bus trip was totally uneventful. tito and I split my headphones and listened to Dido. Tito was asleep for half the trip.

once we got there, my nerves calmed down. even though there was already a line of about a hundred girls up alongside this big warehouse, it looked at first glance like there was no competition.

the first few girls just looked like cheerleaders, some
looked like kind of pseudo-hip-hop-wannabe chicks. I noticed a couple of drama clubbers and at least one obvious beauty queen. a lot of the girls were trying to pretend they weren't there with their stage mothers. this one girl had this total poser goth thing going on—probably courtesy of the “goth” section at contempo casuals at her local mall. I overheard one girl talking to this other girl, telling her how she was from argentina. (Maybe that's why her boobs were so big. yeah, maybe.) anyway “lucky star” by Madonna came on and the argentinian girl started singing and dancing around, all hoochie-like but it sounded so funny cause she kept moaning like a porn star and going “ju mus' be mai lockey essstar.” then the girl she was talking to started writhing around too. hello freak dancing. And then, omigod. they started moving toward each other and their heads ducked into each other and I was thinking no they aren't about to kiss but before I could even gasp or say omigod to tito, they totally kissed. I'm talking tongue and everything! I mean, it was sloppy. like a full-on TATU kiss. Spittle everywhere. Then they broke and went right back into their little dance like they'd choreographed it or something. Tito was like ok, Madonna and Britney. This is NOT the MTV awards. I was like oh man I hope for her sake they're not going to broadcast this back in Argentina.

anyway everyone was like stretching out and drinking vitamin water and chatting about shows they'd “done.” (note: everyone on the audition circuit has “done” west side story or grease at least once.) there was a lot of lipgloss
being passed around and plenty of scales being sung. I put my headphones on to drown out the noise. Not to mention the illness.

tito eyed me with this look that said “you're a shoo-in” and I was feeling pretty confident.

halfway down the line we started noticing that there were, in fact, some pretty good dancers around. The ones that didn't feel like they had to arrive at the crack of dawn to make a good impression. these two girls halfway back through the line had on these really dope black bodysuits. they were stretching out and doing spins and looking really loose. there was this one macy-gray-looking chick who was singing along to this jill scott song that tito's always playing. her voice was incredible, like Alicia Keys meets mary j. blige. there was one girl who was there with like three adults … these two women in power suits and this guy in faded lucky jeans and a black t-shirt. all three of them were on cell phones. tito figured that was her management team or whatever. he called her “the pro.” I started getting pretty intimidated.

when we settled into the back of the line, I took off my baseball cap to readjust my ponytail. tito gasped. Girl why didn't we color your hair last night? Your roots!

I glared at him. Thanks, Tito, I said. That makes me feel great. there's not much I can do about it now.

sorry! he goes. I'm just saying. Put your cap on.

just then, we noticed, about thirty people up the line, this man in a cheesy polo shirt and this woman in Lee Relaxed Fit Jeans and a fanny pack—walking down the line, pointing at certain people, tapping them on the shoulder, and saying “You” to them. they were only tapping, like, every third person or something. they kept coming closer, and tito and I looked at each other like oh SHIT they're typing people out—just sending them home if they don't have the right look. what if I don't get tapped?

That was the first time I really felt it. I wanted it, and I wanted it bad. and not only that, I had a feeling I could get it.

we held our breath as the polo shirt man and the fanny-pack woman got closer to us. my body stiffened up and my eyes glazed over. I stared into the distance, trying to avoid making eye contact with them. would they tap me? I felt my stomach tighten like a drum as they breezed up to me … and passed me right by.

they totally ignored me. no one pointed at me and said “You.” I looked at tito, whose eyes were darting around the line trying to make sense of the scene.

luckily, we were close to the end of the line, so when polo and fanny got to the end of the line polo turned back to us and yells as loud as he could, “If we tapped your shoulder, please form another line over to the right, behind that blue door. if we didn't tap your shoulder, thank you very much and we hope to see you again.”

I looked at tito. he looked at me. we both knew no one tapped my shoulder.

I took a step to leave when tito grabbed me around the waist and led me to the new line. I was like um, tito what are you doing? They didn't tap me. So Tito tapped my shoulder. “There, you're tapped. Get in the line.”

I love tito.

anyway, everyone in the new line (there were about 30 of us now, including the girls in the black bodysuits, macy gray, the pro, and the argentinian) filed through the blue door into a huge room. it was like 5 times the size of beatz. we all sat on the floor when this guy got up to talk to us. his name was Don Dezer and I could smell his cologne from across the room and it wasn't good. he gave us this big speech about the group they were forming, Nice 'n Easy, they said they need attitude, energy, and realness. tito winked at me when he said that. See? he whispered. Realness. Realness. You got that.

after the speech they said that our “people” had to go. he meant the stage mothers, the managers, everyone. “the pro,” who was sitting right behind us, gasped, loud. her handlers flitted around her, chirping it's ok, it's ok.

I turned to tito, who was laughing. he goes, I guess I'm your “people.” I was like, you can't leave me. He smiled and said, “I'm here with you even if i'm not here with you. the t-shirt will bring you good luck, ok? I'll be at CaliBurger across the street. Remember, realness.”

that was a half hour ago. Don Dezer just announced that vocal tests were about to begin and I just realized I've never been so nervous in my whole entire life.

it is taking every muscle in my body to keep me from racing out of here to join tito in the safety of the CaliBurger.

FRIDAY MAY 24

BUS STATION

LOS ANGELES, 5:22
PM

Hair:
sensitive area, I'd rather not discuss, thanks to Tito.

Mood:
don't ask

so here's how it played. No one seemed to notice that I was typed out. Which was awesome, but it meant I had to work extra hard to keep it that way. they had us do some really easy vocal tests in little groups, mostly just reading music, matching notes, stuff like that. it was really pretty simple stuff. I mean it's not like they were looking for a champion vocalist or anything. but even still, I was nervous and screwed up the first few bars. I asked to start again, took a deep breath, reminded myself that I've sung in front of 2,000 people before (at that a cappella competition in 10th grade … I came in 2nd), and more importantly, that worst-case scenario, I'd never see these people again, and gave it another shot. I sounded pretty good.