Star Power (25 page)

mac

M
ac stood in front of Staples Center on Monday afternoon, watching the cars whiz by. She looked very together in her J Brand jeans, Michael Stars tee, and a purple boho-chic scarf, but inside she was a wreck. They were shooting on location today at the famous stadium in downtown Los Angeles, and there was
still
no sign of Emily. Mac had carefully planned today out, and she wanted everything to go off without a hitch. She knew Emily was mad at her . . . and that she might never want to work with Mac again. But for Emily's sake, Mac hoped she wouldn't throw her own future out the window out of anger.

Mac was about to do something drastic when one of the union vans caught her eye. To her great relief, Emily leapt out.

Mac thought she might cry tears of joy as she watched Emily dart out of the van and follow the neon green arrows pointing the way to the shoot. She wanted to run over and tell her the latest news: Miley wasn't going to make it, and the producers had decided to use a hotter, fresher musician. But she knew she was the last person Emily wanted to see. Besides, the young starlet was already racing off to the set. Mac quietly followed behind, hoping that her top-secret plan might be salvaged after all.

Inside the Staples Center, it looked like everything was set up for a giant rock concert: There was a giant black stage in the middle with tons of lights hanging down. The seats were filled with teenagers. The only difference was that every single person in the seats was an extra, getting paid to be there. Mac felt jittery. If her plan didn't work, she'd be costing many people a lot of money.

She took her place in the VIP lounge behind the stage and the cameras, and watched the production assistants scanning the crowd, checking for overly tanned faces or Lakers logos. The scene was supposed to take place on the East Coast and anyone who looked “too L.A.” was moved to the back rows, out of the camera range. Before she could worry about it another second, Mac spotted a young PA escorting Cardammon.

“Over here!” Mac yelled, waving her arms excitedly.

Spotting Mac, Cardammon sashayed over in a strapless dress and black suede heels that zigzagged up her skinny ankles. She slowly removed her oversize Chloé sunglasses. “Mackenzie, darling, please tell me why I'm here,” she purred.

“It's a surprise, Cardammon,” Mac smiled brightly. “But I promise it's a good one.”

Becks arrived next, taking baby steps over to Mac. It was quite a peace offering for Becks to actually show up, since they hadn't talked since Becks blew off her party. (Or rather, since Mac blew off her photo shoot.)

“How've you been?” Becks smiled calmly at Mac. Her hands stayed put in the front pockets of her baby blue sweatshirt and she wouldn't make eye contact. She kept staring at the Staples Center floor.

Mac was so happy to see Becks that she hoped she didn't scare her away with affection.
“
Look, B, I'm so sorry about everything,” Mac said in a rush, eyeing her friend hopefully. “I got a little—make that
very
—carried away. Please don't be mad at me.”

“It's okay.” Becks shrugged. “I'm not
mad
at you.” She shifted her weight so she was standing on just her right leg. “I've just been . . . bummed.”

Mac fidgeted with the ends of her silk Hermès scarf. “I stretched myself too thin.” It was hard to admit that she'd screwed up, but it was the truth. “And I got too controlling. And, let's face it, I tried to be your agent the best I could, but maybe I just don't know enough about surfing.”

Becks laughed, and tapped Mac on the shoulder affectionately. “Mac Little-A! I don't need you to know about that stuff.” She tucked her strawberry blond hair behind her ears. “I just like knowing that you're there on the sand cheering for me. It's been kinda lonely without you.”

Mac's heart soared. So her friend did miss her, after all. “I'm sorry. I'm still figuring out this whole being-an-agent thing, but I
have
figured out that my first priority is being a friend.”

Becks turned red and each girl knew the other was truly sorry. Mac wrapped her arms around Becks, and Becks hugged her back.

Just then, Shane Reed stepped onto the stage clutching a loudspeaker. Turning to the thousands of extras, he boomed in a cheerful voice. “Please welcome Ryan Seacrest!” Mac had been so caught up in her reunion with Becks that she hadn't realized they were moments away from shooting the final scene. She crossed her fingers, and hoped for the best.

Mac, Cardammon, and Becks stayed seated in the VIP area behind Shane, who was peering into a giant monitor hooked up to the cameras. Mac and Becks looked at each other excitedly as the
American Idol
host stepped forward, in a navy suit with his hair perfectly in place, like a Ken doll.

“Next up,” Ryan began in his trademark announcer-y voice, “we have the hottest new talent out of California. Please give it up for—”

A hush came over the crowd. Only the producers, Shane, and Mac knew who Ryan Seacrest was about to announce.

“—Coco Kingsley!”

The crowd applauded and the Inner Circle roared. Mac peered over at Cardammon, who was covering her mouth with her long French-manicured fingernails. She seemed too shocked to move.

Behind Cardammon, Mac spotted a scraggly figure whom she hadn't seen in days: Finn Grace. She'd invited him to come check out Coco, knowing that if she could make a believer out of
him
, she could make a believer out of anyone. Besides, she knew how dementedly obsessed Coco had been with getting his approval. But she hadn't expected him to show up. He caught her eye and coolly tilted his pageboy cap in a gesture of hello. Mac nodded back, just as coolly.

Coco strutted onstage, looking once again like her old self, in a Topshop minidress and Moschino ankle boots, and even a sequined vest. Mac knew Coco had realized there was a reason for sparkle onstage—it really popped. Coco smiled and waved happily to the stadium. If she was nervous, it didn't show. She seemed completely at ease in her slightly pop, very eclectic, very
Coco
getup.

Sitting on bleachers in the back, Kimmie Tachman's mouth dropped. Mac smiled proudly, knowing she and her live blog—not to mention Ruby Goldman—would see just how far Coco had come.

“Thank you, everyone. My name is Coco Kingsley,” she purred demurely into the microphone, Cardammon-style. “And this one's for my mother.”

Cardammon gasped and Mac beamed as her friend took the stage and tilted the mic toward her.

For the next five minutes, Coco sang a rocking acoustic version of Cardammon's hit single “Forever Blue.” She seemed just as relaxed and happy as she had that first day back at Karma. And the crowd was as calm and appreciative as the café crowd had been. They, too, were quiet from the first note to the last. When Coco finished her song, the stadium erupted in thunderous applause. Coco smiled to the group and curtsied daintily, her mother's signature sign-off.

Mac looked over at Cardammon. A tear trickled down Cardammon's Mystic-tanned face. She angled her head to face Mac and mouthed the words,
Thank you
. Mac simply nodded.

Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find Finn Grace, his pageboy cap in hand and his dark hair askew. He wore a red tee that said EMPIRE RECORDS. “Your friend was amazing up there. I mean, she just
owned
it,” he said, an excited gleam in his eye, like he was coming down from a music-induced high. “I just wanted to say thanks for inviting me. And, um”—Finn shuffled nervously from foot to foot—“I was wondering, do you think Coco would mind if I told her that? I kind of said some things the first time we met and I didn't know if she'd want to see me again. . . .” he trailed off.

Mac raised an eyebrow. She had seen boys in crush mode before, but it was always amusing to watch a hipster admit he actually cared about something. “I think she'd like that.”

Finn smiled gratefully, and his whole face lit up. He'd actually be kind of cute, Mac thought with an appraising eye, if you cleaned him up. Her mind shifted into makeover mode: definitely a haircut (Gianni?), a little bit of a tan (natural, not Mystic), and of course a full-on wardrobe overhaul (Xochi now styled men)—until she reminded herself that she had enough projects on her hands.

As Finn thanked her and made his way toward the stage, Mac smiled and twirled the Inner Circle ring she wore at the end of her long gold chain. As much as she wanted to be an amazingly talented agent, she had learned one thing in the past month: None of it mattered if you didn't have your friends. Sure, it was a big moment for Coco and Emily's careers, but it was an even bigger moment for them all as friends. Mac raised her iPhone and took a picture, so she could remember it forever.

emily