How I Became a Hollywood Girl

Chapter One

"Great job today, Amber."

"Thanks, Mr. Leonards." I said warmly to the thirty-something-year-old man sitting on the piano bench.

I gathered my things, and with one final grin at the man I started to walk out of the small classroom.

"See you next week!" My vocal coach called.

"See you next week." I echoed.

But the second I stepped out of the classroom, the broad smile I had slipped off my face. Mr. Leonards was sweet and supportive, but I felt as if his classes were worthless. All he did was smile and tell me what a great singer I was.
All the more reason you should want to get into North Hollywood High School for the Performing Arts. A little voice whispered in my mind.

I mentally told myself to shut up as I navigated easily down the wide, musty hallway. Ever since a few weeks ago when one of my best friends, Kylie Sermon and I sent video auditions thousands of miles to Hollywood, I couldn't seem to get the possibility of going to high school in Hollywood out of my mind.

After Kylie had found an ad on the internet advertising the high school, the two of us decided to send in audition tapes of us singing, dancing, and reciting monoulouges. I mean, we did it mostly as a joke, but we both still thought about the possibility of getting into the high school.

I shook the thoughts of the high school out of my mind as I rounded the corner and came to my favorite spot in all of The Foxborough Center for the Arts.

I had been taking classes at Foxborough Center since I was six, and I was pretty sure I spent more time there then at my own home. The first level of Foxborough Center housed a gigantic theatre and classrooms to teach aspiring actors and actresses ages 5-50 all about the art of acting. The second story was dedicated to dance, and was filled with wide, spacious rooms that you could dance your heart out in.

Then there was the third level.

The third level was my favorite, a musty, huge attic space that had so many windows, it sometimes felt like you were walking outside. This level was the instrumental and vocal level. When you walked up the winding staircase, you were first faced with a foyer filled with comfortable couches and chairs. Two hallways led out of the foyer, one the instrumental hallway and the other the vocal hallway.

And if you walked all the way down the instrumental hallway, filled with light from the skylights above and a ton of instruments playing at once behind closed doors, and made a slight right, you would stumble upon my favorite spot in the whole building.

A small alcove was located here, with windows almost floor to ceiling in length, and a wide skylight on the ceiling.

I had first found the alcove when I was seven and was trying to find the classroom my vocal lesson was located in. It had been my first time on the third story, and I had gone down the wrong hallway. I had found this little alcove, and after my voice lesson (it had taken me only fifteen minutes to find it, I am proud to say) I had asked the front desk if I could bring in a chair or something like that to put in the alcove, and they had told me that it would be perfectly fine if she did.

I went a little overboard, and now seven years later I was sitting on a pile of about six blankets, with so many pillows thrown everywhere that I could barely count them. It wasn't that messy, though, and all the pillows and blankets made it SUPER comftorble. I really felt that this place was special to me, since I was the first one (in my knowledge) to find it, and I had only told a few people about it, my two sisters and three best friends.

Sighing happily, I pulled a book out of my bag and made myself comfortable in the pillows. I had about 10 minutes until my younger sister, Alyssa -or Sasa, as most people called her- was done with her tap lesson and our mom would be here to pick us up. Wanting to make the most of the small amount of time I had here, I happily turned and looked out the window, loving the late May sunshine that was shining through the trees.

Briiinng. Briiinng.

Groaning, I fished through my bag, trying to find my phone. Was ten minutes of quiet, peaceful time too much to ask?

Finally enclosing my hand around my navy blue case, I drew my phone out of my bag and checked the name flashing on my screen . "Birthgiver" it read, with a picture of my mom and I at Disney World two years ago.

"Hey mom. What's up?" I said when I answered the phone.

"YOUDIDIT!!" My mother screeched so fast that I couldn't understand what she was saying.

"Mom, slow down." I said wearily. "What are you saying?"

The next wave of screeching was louder than the last, and I had to draw the phone about a foot away from myself to protect my ear drums.

"Okay mom, are you at the Foxborough Center?" I asked.

"Yes, and I have great news!!!" My mother cooed loudly.

"That I could understand." I mumbled to myself, gathering my things into my bag.

"I'll meet you downstairs." I hung up the phone and set off down the hallway.

"Just ten minutes of quiet." I muttered, but my anger at being interrupted wasn't nearly as great as my excitement to find out what the great news is.