And what I'd done, in front of the judges and on camera no less, was nothing short of unforgiveable in my father's eyes- he was going to kill me. Now here I sat in the participants' greenroom, waiting on pins and needles for my verdict, my hat firmly pushed back over my head. How bad would my punishment be tonight? If I made it, I was desperately hoping it would soften the blow, but if I didn't...
A violent shudder rippled through me at the thought. Please, please, please let me make it. Please don't let me have to go back to him without making it to the Judges Homes.
I dropped into a padded chair in the corner of the room, curling up with my feet beneath me as we waited. After a few seconds, my nervous energy was too much and I sprung up and resumed my pacing.
Maybe, just maybe, it would be fine. If I made it- and there was a huge if- but if I made it, and if just by chance Dad never found out about my meltdown on stage, and they somehow never aired it, I would be safe.
A knock sounded at the door, and immediately, fifteen heads turned at once. It would've been funny if I wasn't one of them.
The handle turned, and Mario stuck his head in through the gap. "Hey, everyone decent?"
"Naw man, come back later," one of the boys joked back. He was eighteen years old, and I remembered that his first name was Aaron but not much else.
"We were just getting to the good part," Layla, the Arab girl who'd sung first, added, trailing a hand seductively up Aaron's man.
They both laughed when Mario barged into the room. "Okay, okay, we got little kids in here!" He gestured at the few thirteen and fourteen year olds. "Let's keep it PG."
"No worries."
"So," Mario started, standing at the front of the room, "I think you'll all be pleased to know that we've come to a decision. Follow me please, guys."
I bit my lip as people trailed after him. I let the entire room out before leaving, not wanting to be in the middle of a crowd. I was skittish to begin with, and then add sturdy, well-built eighteen-year-old boys? No thank you. My father's torment had forever left a mark upon my psyche, a lasting impression that men were bad, that they wanted to hurt you and make you suffer. Especially men who were bigger than you.
This is it, I thought as we stepped onto the stage and took our places in a line across the length of it. The judges arrived just as we did, solemn and grim with the weight of the knowledge of our futures- and what it meant to us.
"Ahem," LA cleared his throat. "Thank you all for coming. You're all great singers in your own right."
Simon nodded, his eyes travelling over the line. He seemed to linger over me for slightly longer than the others... but maybe I was just imagining it? "I'm going to read the list of names. If I call your name, please step forward... Matthias Green. Pedro Hernandez. Isabella Lee." Three teenagers hesitantly took a step forward, their body language closed off and afraid. Simon pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, you didn't make it to the Top 24."
The reaction was immense. All three broke down right there on stage, their hands flying to scrub at their face. After several minutes of encouraging words from the judges, they tearfully walked off stage.
I was shivering.
Britney scanned her list. "Aaron Marley, Sergio Vargas, Brielle Richardson, please step forward." Aaron, Sergio and Brielle took a step towards the judges, their eyes trained pleadingly on them. Britney broke into a wide smile before she even said the words: "Congratulations, you're in the Top 24."
Brielle and Sergio fell into each other's hugs, and Aaron whooped, ran to the judges table to give them all high-fives, and then practically sprinted back to take his position in the corner.
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That word is love (Demi Lovato fanfic)
FanfictionDemi Lovato is a contestant on the X Factor, and on the surface her life seems amazing. Perfect house, perfect voice, perfect father. Except she's being abused, and no-one knows.