Talent

Ch. 3

{Chapter three: Singing Lessons}

"Alrighty, contestants, we have important info for you today!" A man said, over the loudspeaker in the hotel we were moved into for the show.

"Pick a song or theme or idea for your next performance, whatever your act may be, before you are called down to the practice room to improve your already amazing talents."

I had figured out what song to do next, the night before with Jordan, who was still with me as my 'chaperone' since I was too young to be there alone.

'All I wanted' by Paramore.

Of course I was nervous, but we had a week to prepare before our next taping of the show, so I was also slightly excited.

When we'd first been directed to our rooms, an employee kindly informed us that we'd be sharing our room with other contestants, which caused Jordan and I to exchange a look.

We opened the door, still a bit skeptical, to see two guys digging through a suitcase on one of the king-sized beds.

After some awkward introductions, they knew our names and we knew theirs. Jay and Mike.

The older, who wasn't on the show, was Mike, and he was Jay's brother. Jay was the younger, obviously.

Jay was bright blue eyed. The only trait he shared with his brother was his chestnut brown hair, which Jay wore medium length-ed and Mike wore in a short buzz cut.

Mike also had stubbly cheeks and green eyes, and strong, scarred arms.

The biggest difference between the two was their skin tone. Jay was light, and pale like me, and Mike was tan and dark.

Later, we all got ready for bed, and passed out. It honestly wasn't as awkward as we expected.

My dreams were cloudy that night, forgettable, and unremarkable.

That next morning, yawning and listening to the overly cheerful loudspeaker guy, I poked Jor in the arm.

"Shut up, I'm try'na sleep, you dumb walrus!" She mumbled in her sleep.

I laughed to myself, and rolled out of bed. Reaching into my suitcase I plucked out a grey tee, black yoga pants and the same Nikes from the day before.

Across the room, I walked into the bathroom to take a shower. I belted out bits and pieces of songs at the top of my lungs, and giggled when I heard my roommates groaning as I woke them up.

After, when I walked out of the bathroom, dressed and towel drying my hair, I had a few middle fingers waiting for me. Which, of course, I politely returned.

When my hair was mostly dry, I pulled it back into a messy bun, and wore some light makeup.

"Jay Christopher? Come to room 400 for your first practice session!" The loud speaker announced, calling someone down for about the fiftieth time that morning.

"I just woke up... Why me?!" Jay whined, causing the rest if us to laugh at him.

"It's not funny..." He continued, causing us to laugh harder.

Ten minutes later, Jay was sloppily dressed and running down the hall to make it to his rehearsal-thing on time.

I reclined on a sofa that sat beneath the window in our room, and noticed Mike rifling through a black gym bag. He pulled out a simple but high quality bike helmet, and missing-finger gloves. When he turned around, I caught his gaze a raised a brow.

"I'm a rider, a bike rider. It's my thing. Just like how my brothers thing is music. Dancing, Singing, all that." Mike said, guessing why I was confused.

"Oh," I replied intelligently.

"Yeah, anyway. I gotta bounce, see you later."

As he walked out of the room, I heard a tiny sigh. I spun around.

"What? He's yummy!" Jordan said, in response to the face I was making at her.

"Hallie Nichols? Please come to room 357 now, thank you." The loudspeaker guy interjected.

I waved to Jordan and headed out the door. The hallway was quiet, and had a cold, industrial sort of a feel to it. The floor was polished white, the walls a metallic grey, and the ceiling black with huge silver rimmed lights.

At the end of the hall, where the dark door numbered 357 stood, I reminded myself it was only rehearsal.

Inside, was the biggest stage I'd ever been in the presence of. I walked out onto the stage, and lights

buzzed on. I could now see at the judges stand, three people. Two women and one man.

"Hello, I am Kristana Wilkson, and these are my assistants, Gregory and Hannah." The tall, skinny, tan, woman said, gesturing at the short, skinny, tan, woman and man behind her.

"I will be your vocal and performance coach, helping you to not only not make a fool of yourself, but to shine like a star. Let me hear a bit of your voice, and then tell me what song you chose." Kristana had almost a Russian accent, but not so much that I couldn't understand her, and it wasn't harsh, just determined and pretty.

I sang the beginning of 'Hallelujah' by Rufus Wainright, sliding off the last note of the first verse, and I felt confident.

"Stand a little taller, shoulders back, breathe between beats, feet shoulder-width apart, chin up, and never cut a note short, always draw it out. Again!"

I sang all different parts of 'Hallelujah' repeatedly as Kristana made adjustments to my posture and technique, until she finally asked for the song I'd actually picked.

"All I wanted, Paramore."

"Paramore? Vocals are quite a bit higher, do you adjust the key?" She questioned.

"I do, I know my voice is low, I adjust quite frequently." I replied, trying to maintain a facade of coolness .

"Good, very good. Many people try to force themselves into songs that don't fit, I'm glad you know how to make it work. Sing some of the song."

"I would follow you to the beginning, just to relive the start. Maybe then we'd remember to slow down at all of our favorite parts. All I wanted was you!" I belted out the song, but made sure not to scream sing.

"I like the song, but keep working on your breathing, and possibly up the tempo. Alright, see you tomorrow." I nodded, curtsied, and dashed out of the room.

Smooth, right?