This, is Touri Cowell.

Playback

Touri's POV

I squirmed in my seat, would the plane just land already? I wanted to get off of this thing, call my boys, and see my Uncle Simon. I was just lucky enough to sit by a fan who blubbered the whole. Entire. Plane ride. When ever I would doze off she would shake me awake and beg more questions out of me. The moment the pilot's voice came on the speaker I pushed past her to get to the isle and stumbled out for the gate. I searched for Tau, one of our other body guards, he was going to take me to the car that Uncle Simon let me use. I hid behind Tau as the paparazzis and TMZ cameramen shot questions at me I I just smiled and shook my head, ignoring their questions. Tau took me to the parking lot where a gorgeous, white Challenger waited for me. I shimmied into the seat as the paparazzis flashed photo's at me. I loved it, being famous reminded me of the accomplishments that I had made. It reminded me of the thousands of people that said I couldn't, I spit in those people's face when our album made platinum. I waited for the police car that was escorting me to Uncle Simon's Malibu home, to pull onto the highway. I took a breath and backed out of the parking space, careful not to hit the paparazzis, I pulled on to the high way following a bar of red and blue lights. I sped forward and turned the radio up. When I got to the house I clicked up the concrete stairs and pounded on the door my bangles rattled on the door as Rita, his maid let me in. Mindlessly, I handed her the keys and wandered in. I pulled my white ray bands into my hair letting my nude heels click into the house. I came across a group of make up artists who tweaked my face with out asking. What was happening? My uncle emerged from a hall way and made his way over to me with his arms out,

“Uncle Simon, what's happening?” I asked, pulling away from his hug.

He raised an eyebrow, “Lindsey didn't tell you? We're doing judge's house and we want you to judge with me and I wanted you to give a demonstration.”

I was taken back a little, “Oh, alright.”

That little shit head. I was done, she was done. That's it that bitch was fired. I smiled slightly and went with him to the living room where quite a few people sat in groups singing to themselves. I turned to Simon,

“Who are you mentoring?”

He smiled at me, “Groups.”

I smile graduated on my face as we approached a group of 5. They didn't see us at first so I had a moment to search each of their voices. The five looked up at me one with blonde hair that reminded me of Niall, one with a dark, dusty blonde, a brown-haired one with innocent blue eyes, a black haired one with dark eyes and one that seemed some-what Hispanic but resembled an American Zayn. Their eyes got huge and a smile slapped onto their face, the knew who I was. I stuck my hand out to each of them and said my greetings,

“Hello, I'm Touri Cowell, what do you boys call yourselves?”

The blond-haired one spoke first, “Uhmm... We're uhh... We're Playback.”

I nodded and smiled, ruffling his hair a bit, “Well you guys are great, I can't wait to hear all of your song, just work on harmonizing a bit and you all are a shoe-in for this show.” I winked at the Zayn look alike and clicked away to meet the other groups. After chatting with them all the crew called me outside where a silver bar stool stood with a microphone stand. I worked my way over to the stool as the contestants filed in front of me. I sat on the stool wishing it wan't a stool I had to cross my legs because I was wearing a pencil skirt and I didn't want to show them my underwear. Much less my thong. I cleared my throat and turned to the guitarist to start playing, I turned to the crowd as the first notes strung out of my mouth. They watched intently as I sang my song,

I am a poor,

Wayfaring stranger... Traveling through

this world of woe,

and there's no sickness,

Toil or danger, in the bright land... to which I go.

I proceeded through the song, hitting every note beautifully. After the cheers everyone went inside. I slid my glasses back on my face, I hated singing to people with glasses on, it was... just a thing that I had. I chatted aimlessly with Simon until a group came out, I leaned back in the white chair and put my judging ears on. It's a family thing, judging was in my blood and I've always been a really strict judger. When a group of 3 middle-aged women came on I almost laughed out loud. Simon hit me and then told them to go ahead but I stopped them with a mocking smile on my face,

“Are you all a bit old to be --” Simon interrupted me, telling them to go on. I tried focusing on their voices but I hated it. The mixture of their voices reminded me of angry wasps that had just inhaled helium. I hated it, it was annoying. As all the groups sang on I began to drift off in my seat, only being shaken awake by my aggravated uncle. I only opened my eyes only for Playback, their voices were beautiful together I loved it.