Grace Unplugged: A Novel (13 page)

However, it wasn’t long before she discovered that recording was hard work. In some ways it reminded her of rehearsing with the worship team—at first. But if she thought Dad was a stickler for detail, he was a teddy bear compared to Bryant Stockwell. Bryant was a Perfectionist with a capital P. By the end of the session, Grace wondered if Bryant suffered from OCD. Nothing—not a single thing—slipped past this man. They did so many takes of the song that she actually felt somewhat sick by the time they ended. Her ears were ringing and her head was throbbing.

“I think we got it,” Bryant was telling Mossy when she went back to the engineering booth.

“That was harder than I expected,” she confessed to them.

“It always is the first time.” Bryant punched something into his computer. “But, don’t worry, kid, you did fine. This is going to be a great single. Just wait and see.”

“You’re going to blow your dad’s old song right out of the water,” Mossy assured her.

On Wednesday morning Kendra Burroughs and another woman, loaded down with bags, showed up at Grace’s apartment at ten. “This is my assistant Phoebe,” Kendra explained. “And we need to do some measurements for wardrobe as well as get you ready for a photo shoot at two.” She turned to Phoebe. “Wasn’t I right? Isn’t she gorgeous?”

With her finger on her chin, Phoebe nodded. “We could do so much with her.”

“First things first. Get her measurements,” Kendra told Phoebe.

As Phoebe measured and made notes, Kendra strolled around the little apartment, trying to decide which room had the best light. But Grace could tell by her expression that Kendra was unimpressed with Grace’s new digs.

“You won’t be living in the slums for long, Gracie.” Kendra set what looked like a cosmetic case on the tiny dining table next to the window. “Not if you’re as good as Mossy claims you are.”

Before long Grace was seated at the table, and Kendra and Phoebe were applying makeup and commenting as if Grace wasn’t even in the room.

“Should we have exfoliated her first?” Phoebe asked.

“No, her skin is flawless. Lucky girl.”

“Are we going to change her hair color at all?”

“Larry said leave it blonde. It gives her wholesome appeal, which means that even parents will like her. Broadens the target market.”

“We could always add some temporary streaks for concerts,” Phoebe suggested. “Some hot pink or magenta would be fun.”

“Sure, for concerts—that’s when we want her to look like a hot little rocker chick. But not for the photo shoot.”

“How ’bout this color for her lips?” Phoebe held up a tube of lipstick that looked slightly purplish. Not a shade Grace ever would’ve naturally been drawn to wear.

“Let’s go for something more subtle.” Kendra dug through the tray. “Like this.” She handed Phoebe a lip liner in a pinkish shade. “Do a firm outline and then blend it,” she told her. “With a layer of gloss on top. Larry said he wants her flirty—not trashy.”

They both laughed as Phoebe worked on Grace’s lips.

“How’s that?” Phoebe said as she stepped back to look.

“Perfect.” Kendra made a thumbs-up.

Phoebe nodded. “Yeah. It gives her a sense of innocence . . . but still enticing.”

“Now for eyeliner.” Kendra held up another tube. “You’ve got the steady hand, Phoebs, go for it.” Kendra folded her arms, watching as Phoebe pulled out a thin brush.

“Close your eyes, doll,” Phoebe told her.

Grace felt very much a like a doll as she closed her eyes, sitting still as something cool slid across her upper lids. Then Phoebe was blowing on them, and Grace had to hold her breath because Phoebe’s breath was not the freshest.

“There,” she said. “Open.”

Kendra leaned down to peer at Grace and then firmly shook her head. “No, Phoebe, that’s way too much. She looks too seductive.”

“But I thought you said they wanted every red-blooded boy to love her. And every teenage girl to want to be like her?”

Kendra laughed. “But we want their mothers to love her too. We know she can look hot, but to start with we want
daddy’s little girl
with an edge.”

Grace cringed at that last comment but tried not to show it as Phoebe pulled a makeup remover wipe from the pack and started all over on her eyes. This time, not only did she apply more liner and eye shadow, but she curled Grace’s eyelashes and put on what felt like a dozen layers of mascara.

“It’s nice we don’t need to use false eyelashes,” she said as she put on the last coat. “How’s that?”

“That’ll work. Lashy but not trashy.”

Again they laughed. And Grace attempted to join in, but somehow she was just not feeling it. She remembered how she used to protest about being Dad’s puppet. What was she now? Still, she was determined not to go there. She knew this was just part of the deal—if you want to be a star, you have to look like a star. Get over it!

“When do I get to see?” Grace asked curiously.

“Not until we’re done,” Kendra said as she brushed something on her cheek.

When the makeup was finished, they pulled out the hair tools. Curling iron, flattening iron, and gels and sprays. Grace wanted to ask them what was wrong with a more natural look, but knew she needed to trust their judgment on this. After all, they were the pros.

“So for the photo shoot, we’ve brought some clothes,” Kendra explained. “We know they won’t fit exactly right, but we can adjust them with clothespins and stuff. We’ll make it look right. When you do your showcase on Friday, we’ll have real clothes that will fit perfectly.”

“Cool.” Grace smiled hopefully at Kendra. “Can I see it yet?”

“Sure.” Kendra nodded. “Go take a peek, and we’ll start figuring out what you’ll wear for the shoot.”

Grace went into the bathroom and turned on the light and then stared at her image in the mirror. Blinking, she looked again. This did not look like her. Not at all. What were they thinking? Was this some kind of joke? Feeling close to tears, she went back out to where they were laying out clothes and discussing which ones were right.

“Uh . . . I . . .” She held up her hands helplessly.

“What?” Kendra looked up from where she was playing with a denim jacket. “Something wrong?”

“My face,” Grace said in a trembling voice. “It doesn’t look like me.”

“Of course, it looks like you,” Kendra assured her. “Doesn’t it, Phoebs?”

“Yeah. It’s you.” Phoebe nodded. “Only better.”

“But . . . I—”

“Look,” Kendra said gently, “we know this is all new to you. I guess we should’ve explained. Publicity shots have to look slick. Oh, they can Photoshop them up later, but we want to send you in there with just the right look.” She held out her hands. “And you got it, babe. Trust me, you got it.”

“Yeah, you look hot,” Phoebe said. “And yet not too hot. You know?”

“And photography is funny,” Kendra said. “It’s like you need to overemphasize some things. What you’re seeing in the bathroom, which I might add has really poor lighting, is nothing like what they’ll be seeing in the photography studio where the lighting is hot and bright. Trust me, you will be thanking us later, Gracie.”

“Oh,” she let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, if you say so.”

“We definitely say so.” Phoebe held a pale pink shirt up to Grace now.

“No,” Kendra said. “Too washed out. Try that darker one.”

Suddenly Grace felt like a paper doll as Kendra and Phoebe held various ensembles up in front of her, taking turns to comment and critique. But eventually, they had five different outfits, complete with jewelry and accessories all ready to go.

“I’ll start steaming and hanging these,” Kendra said. “You pack the rest of it up.” She pointed at Grace now. “You get yourself a little bite to eat. Not too much because it’s never good to shoot on a full stomach, but enough to keep your blood sugar up. And drink a bottle of water too.”

Grace went into the kitchen, feeling slightly like a child, but doing as she’d been told. She tried not to compare the way they were treating her to how she’d been treated at home, but it was impossible to ignore the similarities. Still, she told herself, this was what it took to get launched. The price all musicians must pay to succeed. Play along and, in time, the reward would come.

The photo shoot was similar to recording in that she had a professional crew telling her what to do and then having her do it again and again and again. The differences were, however, that she had to keep changing her clothes and hair—and although some shots included her guitar, she was not playing music. Still, she did her best to cooperate; and when they finally finished, everyone—including Mossy, who had watched the whole thing—seemed satisfied.

“You got some great shots,” he told her as he drove her home. “Larry is going to like them. That Kendra really knows her stuff.”

Grace tipped down the mirror behind the sun visor and peered at her strange-looking image. “You’re sure I don’t look overly made up?”

“Not at all. You have that fresh-faced, girl-next-door look.”

She frowned at the painted eyes and lips. Girl next door to what?

The next day was relatively calm and quiet compared to the first part of the week. And Grace tried to use the time to write a song. But unfortunately it was just not coming to her. She knew she had no good excuse this time. Dad wasn’t breathing down her neck. Mom wasn’t expecting her to help out in the house. Rachel wasn’t calling. The truth was, she wasn’t distracted by anything more than the ticking of the clock, neighbors coming and going, and the occasional noises down on the street. And yet she was stuck.

On Friday afternoon, as scheduled, Kendra and Phoebe showed up at her apartment again. “Tonight you get to be
rocker chick
,” Kendra said as she ceremoniously laid a black garment bag on the couch and set a pair of very cool-looking boots on the floor next to it. “Ready?”

Grace nodded, trying to exude more confidence than she felt. However those boots were pretty encouraging.

“Your throne,” Phoebe said as she pulled out a dining room chair.

“Our goal for tonight is to make her look like less of a teenager,” Kendra said to Phoebe. “For some reason teen singers make the night-club audience a little uncomfortable.”

“Keeps her from getting carded too,” Phoebe teased.

Grace sat quietly as the two went to work on her. It was similar to preparing for her photo shoot, although they seemed to be having more fun this time. And although she had no idea what she would look like when they finished, she knew there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it. Mossy had made that clear after the photo shoot. For the time being she belonged to Sapphire and Mossy. Go with the flow or just go.

“How about some magenta streaks,” Phoebe asked when they started on her hair.

“Sure,” Kendra agreed. “No more goody-good girl. We want her to be edgy tonight. Sell her to the twenty-to-thirty crowd.”

After they finished hair and makeup, they didn’t let her go look in the mirror. “Wait until you’re dressed,” Kendra insisted. “We want you to get the full effect.”

Now Phoebe was unzipping the garment bag and removing what looked like a motorcycle jacket, except that it was brown not black.

“At first I thought this was too cliché,” Kendra told Grace. “But on second thought, I think it’s perfect. We needed something to give you a rocker’s edge.”

“What do you think?” Phoebe asked Grace.

Grace fingered the soft leather then nodded. “I really like it.”

The women seemed relieved. And before long Grace was completely dressed in rocker style. The jacket felt great and she loved the boots.

“Go ahead and look now,” Kendra said.

Instead of going to the bathroom, Grace went into the bedroom where there was a full-length mirror on the closet door. When she saw her reflection, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Kendra asked as she came into the bedroom to see.

“Me.” Grace was laughing so hard she was doubled over.

“You are not funny,” Phoebe said from behind Kendra. “You are hot.”

“Stand up straight,” Kendra commanded. “Act like the rocker chick we know you are.”

“Here,” Phoebe handed Grace her guitar case. “Maybe you need a prop.”

So Grace got out her guitar and strapped it on and struck a rocker pose in front of the mirror. “Wow!” She blinked in surprised. “I do look like a rocker chick.”

They both laughed.

“Of course you do,” Kendra declared.

“That’s what we were going for,” Phoebe pointed out.

Grace didn’t want to think what her family and friends would say if they could see her like this. She knew that the church congregation would be scratching their heads too. But those were not the people who would be listening to her tonight. No, she told herself, this was a whole different world. And the sooner she got comfortable in this world, the sooner she would succeed in it.

Chapter 12