Choosing America's Next Superstar (3 page)

“You think so?” Jimmy asked. “Why would they want to know that?”

“I dunno. I just think it’s a touching story, how you almost missed your chance at an audition in order to be with your brother. Is he older than you?”

“He’s two years younger. We always been close, though.”

“Well, I’ll keep him in my thoughts,” Corey said, smiling sincerely.

“Thanks, man. You know what you’re gonna sing?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Corey said, “if I’m lucky enough to get an audition.”

“I’m singing Garth Brooks,” Jimmy said. “‘The Dance’.”

“Oh, I love that song. I like a lot of country, but I’m gonna go with a boy band song. ‘Shape of My Heart’ by the Backstreet Boys.”

Jimmy started singing the chorus to the song, smiling at Corey. “Lookin’ back on the things I’ve done….”

“I was tryin’ to be someone…,” Corey finished.

They both laughed. “Cool, so you know a variety of stuff?”

“I love all kinds of music,” Jimmy said. His chocolate-brown eyes seemed to light up as he smiled at Corey. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m the same way. I have this knack for remembering song lyrics. If I hear a song once, I’ve pretty much got it in my brain.”

“Me too… I thought I was the only one like that.”

“Do you know this one? ‘When superstars and cannonballs are runnin’ through your head’,” Corey started singing.

“‘Television freak show, cops and robbers everywhere’,” Jimmy continued.

Corey cracked up. “Dude, you have an awesome voice!”

“You too, man.”

“This is my best friend, Megan,” Corey said. He thumbed his fist in her direction, but she was busy talking to someone else and had her back turned.

“I came alone,” Jimmy said. “It was a five-hour drive.”

“That’s almost exactly how long our drive was, but we never left our state. Weird.”

“Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky and both make it through,” Jimmy said. “We can hang out together.”

“I’d like that,” Corey said.

“Are you number 748?” a voice said from the other side of him. Corey quickly turned to see an official-looking lady carrying a clipboard.

“Yes! That’s me,” he said, jumping up from his seat.

“Corey Dunham?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”

“I’m Renee, and I conduct the preaudition interviews.”

“I’m Corey’s best friend Megan.” Corey heard his companion introduce herself. “I’m the one who brought him here.”

Renee shook hands with both of them. Looking around, she located an empty chair and pulled it over in front of them. “Well, let’s just talk for a few minutes. Tell me about yourself, Corey, and why you want to be America’s Next Superstar.”

“Forgive me,” Megan blurted out before Corey could open her mouth. “Corey is a little bit shy when it comes to talking about himself, but he has the most amazing story.”

“Oh?”

“Corey has a brother—two years younger than him—his name is Jimmy, and he has a heart condition.” Corey’s mouth dropped open in shocked disbelief. Megan must have been eavesdropping on his conversation. “Jimmy and Corey are very close, and Jimmy just had to have a life-saving surgery. Corey wasn’t even going to come to the audition, but Jimmy insisted. He told Corey to go and win his way to New York. Corey’s doing this for him, his dying brother.”

“Wow,” Renee said. “Has he been ill for a long time?”

“It was a condition he was born with, and they didn’t expect him to even live this long. Jimmy prays every day he will be able to hang on long enough to see his brother crowned America’s Next Superstar.”

“Amazing, that’s truly a touching story,” Renee said. “You know….” Her voice was beginning to choke up. “You know, I think we’re going to just go ahead and put you through to the auditions. Corey, why don’t you come with me?” She stood up and grabbed Corey by the arm.

“But….” Corey turned and looked at his new friend Jimmy, who was just sitting there with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Go ahead!” Megan urged him. “Corey… go!” Megan stood up and grabbed Corey’s other arm.

“You come with us,” Renee said. “They’ll need to film Corey’s supporters. Are you with him too?” she said as she turned to Jimmy.

“Uh… no. I have
nothing
to do with him,” Jimmy said, quickly turning away.

Corey felt his face redden. Suddenly he was being escorted across the huge auditorium floor toward an area that had been cordoned off with large collapsible walls. They were like huge cubicles. Corey assumed that this was where they did the actual filming.

“Wait here,” Renee said. “I’ll be right back.”

Corey turned to Megan. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Did what?” Megan said, as she grabbed Corey and spun him around. Suddenly he was staring directly at a television camera. “You mean that I told the touching story of your dying brother? Corey, you shouldn’t be shy or embarrassed by how close you are to Jimmy. He’s
so
proud of you.”

Corey looked up into the camera and gulped, suddenly unable to speak.

Megan wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “Don’t you worry. I have so much faith in you, Corey Dunham… and so does Jimmy.”

The next thing Corey knew, someone had stepped up beside him. Corey’s jaw just about came unhinged when he turned to see it was Dylan Seagraves, the host of
Choosing America’s Next Superstar
.

“Corey, I’ve heard your story… our producer just chatted with me. It’s very moving. Can you tell us what you’re feeling right now?”

“Um… I’m a little nervous….”

“I can understand that. It must feel like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders right now. If you don’t do well and make it through the audition, you’re going to feel as if you let your brother down. This may be your very last chance to make this dream a reality for him….”

“Uh… yeah.”

“He gets very emotional about this,” Megan said. “Surely you understand….”

“Oh, of course,” Dylan said, nodding emphatically.

Just then Renee stepped up behind them. “Okay, Corey, do you happen to have a photo of your brother?”

“Uh… no.”

“We’ve got lots of pictures we can bring you,” Megan volunteered. “I might even have one in my purse. It’s locked in my trunk….”

“Good,” Renee said. “Regardless of what happens with the audition, we’ll want those photos. We can get them later, though. This show won’t be aired until several months from now. Corey, I see your song choice is ‘Shape of My Heart’. Does this have any significance to your brother?”

“It’s his favorite group,” Megan said. “Corey sang him this song just before he went into surgery.”

“Mmm, very good,” Renee said, jotting down notes on her clipboard. “Okay, Corey… usually you’d sing in front of one of our voice coaches before going on camera, but we’ve decided to go with this… whether you can sing or not.”

“He can sing—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Renee interrupted. “He has the look, he has the story… that’s all that matters.”

“But…,” Corey began to protest.

“They’re ready!” Dylan said. “Time to go in.” He grabbed Corey by the shoulders and spun him around, pushing him toward the door.

“But what do I…?”

“Just march right in there. They’ll tell you what to do.”

Renee grabbed Corey by the arm and led him through the door and down a long hallway. When they reached the end, she stopped. “Here,” she said, handing him the papers from her clipboard. “Give these to the gentleman right over there.” She pointed to a man who was wearing a headset. “He’ll give your paperwork to the judges, and they’ll call you when they’re ready.”

Corey took a deep breath and grabbed the papers. He stepped forward, into the next room. When he got up to the man Renee had pointed to, he held out the papers. The man turned and placed his finger over his lips to indicate silence. He glanced at the papers and nodded, then pointed to a bench, indicating Corey was to sit.

He could hear the activity in the next room. It was an audition, and the contestant was embarrassingly flat. It was a male singer, and he had a serious pitch problem. Corey couldn’t tell exactly what the judges were saying, but there were shouts followed by laughter. After a few moments, the contestant stormed off the stage into the room where Corey was waiting. He was dark haired and skinny, and at this point he was obviously crying. He didn’t stop to say anything to either Corey or the man with the headset. He just marched right on by.

“Okay,” the man said, turning to him. “You’re next. Wait here till I come back.”

The man disappeared, stepping out of the room onto the stage. About thirty seconds later he was back. He waved his hand, motioning for Corey to stand. “When the green light comes on, they’re ready for you.” He pointed to a light on the opposite side of the stage. “Sometimes the judges take breaks in between contestants. Sometimes not. You just have to wait here.”

Corey nodded. “There’s a problem with….”

“You’re on!” the man said, shoving him out toward the stage.

He stumbled at first, then righted himself. Taking a deep breath, Corey willed himself to place one foot in front of the other. When he looked up, he was center stage, standing directly in front of the four judges he’d seen thousands of times on TV.

“Hey there,” Raymond said. He was the heavy-set rap singer whose trademark was his dark sunglasses and excessive bling. “Who do we have here?”

Corey swallowed hard, and then forced a smile. “Corey… uh… Corey Dunham.”

“Nice to meet you, Corey,” Krystal said. She was smiling broadly.

“Thank you,” Corey said, looking at each judge. It was all so surreal. He felt as if he were dreaming. There they were, all four of them. Reuben, Krystal, Tyler, and Raymond. He knew all about them—or he thought he did. He’d watched them on the show since he was a little kid.

“And where are you from?” Reuben said with his thick Australian accent.

“Here in Michigan, sir. I’m from a small town in the northern part of the state.”

“So lots of snow,” Tyler said. “Do you ski?”

Corey tried to look cheerful, smiling again. “Yeah… a little bit.”

“And why are you here?” Raymond asked. “You’re gonna be America’s Next Superstar?”

“Uh… yes. Yes, definitely!”

“Very good,” Reuben said. “I like your confidence. But let’s see if you can put your money where your mouth is. What are you singing today?”

“‘Shape of My Heart’ by Backstreet Boys,” Corey said.

Reuben rolled his eyes and Krystal smiled sweetly at him. “Very well, go ahead,” Reuben said. He crossed his arms obstinately, waiting for Corey to start.

Corey was very relieved they didn’t ask him about the story of his nonexistent, fatally ill brother. He took a quick breath, straightened his posture, and began to sing. As he belted out the notes, his entire body was infused with confidence. Right from the first bar, he knew he’d nailed it, and the melody flowed out of him with intense emotion.

All four judges sat there, staring at him. Corey made it all the way through the first verse and chorus before Tyler raised his hand and indicated for him to stop. “Holy fuck!” the aging rock star exclaimed. “Boy, you can
sing
!”

Corey smiled, proud yet a little self-conscious. “Thank you, sir,” he said meekly.

“You gave me goosies!” Krystal squealed, holding her arms out to show her goose pimples.

Reuben nodded, a very serious expression on his face. “Very well, shall we vote? I say yes.”

“Yes,” Raymond quickly added.

“Definitely yes,” Tyler said.

“Corey, you’re going to New York!” Krystal exclaimed. She held out a sheet of orange-colored paper. “Here’s your golden ticket.”

“Yes!” Corey shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Oh… oh… oh! I can’t believe it!” He stepped down from the stage to take the paper from Krystal. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”

As he turned, he saw the man with the headset waving frantically, motioning for him to exit through a different door. Apparently winners had to go out the opposite side of the room than the losers did. He thought it would be like on television, that he’d be dashing outside to wave around his ticket to Dylan and Meg, but instead he was led down the hallway to an office area.

“Congratulations,” a slender middle-aged female said as she greeted him. “Have a seat.” She introduced herself as Ms. Warren. After sitting behind a desk herself, she pointed to one of the empty chairs, which Corey slid into as per her instruction.

Ms. Warren then proceeded to ask him a series of questions including his name, address, and phone numbers, and if he had any health issues. She explained that he would be mailed an airline ticket to New York, be provided transportation and hotel accommodations, and a return flight in the unfortunate event that he was voted off during the competition. This was all for the pretaping. The elimination process would all be conducted during the first two weeks of September. They would begin with approximately four hundred contestants, but only about forty of them would make it through all the elimination rounds. If he did happen to be one of those lucky forty, he’d then have to fly to Hollywood in January and would stay there for the duration of the live broadcasts.

Had he been under the age of eighteen, he would have been allowed the accompaniment of one parent or guardian. Being that he was eighteen, this did not apply. He would be completely on his own.

“Do you have any questions for me?” she asked.

“Uh… yes, ma’am,” he said.

She smiled sweetly. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Well, it’s not really a question. It’s more like a confession….”

“Oh?” she said, leaning forward in her chair.

“My friend who’s with me—Megan—she told the producer some things about me that weren’t true.”

“What kind of things?” she asked, still smiling.

“She gave them a sob story, saying my brother was dying. I don’t even have a brother, though.”

Ms. Warren started laughing. “Aren’t you the sweetest little thing? Honey, don’t worry. Everyone has a sob story. It’s all part of the game. You should thank your friend for her creativity. Did you look out there and see the tens of thousands of kids all tryin’ to get on this show? If they didn’t have some kind of story to tell, they’d never make it.”