Starring Me (2 page)
“We didn’t say that,” Mom said.
“But you think it, right?”
“Well.” Mom looked to Dad. “It’s only natural that you might be attracted to one another.”
“But even if you don’t date her,” Dad said, “she will influence you, and you her.”
Having spent the last two years adjusting to fame—not being able to hang out at the mall with friends or even walk into a restaurant without being accosted—the thought of having a friend to be with every day and a place where he could be himself was exciting.
Oh, God, I really want to do this show
.
Mom’s cell phone chimed Beethoven’s Fifth, interrupting their conversation.
“Hello . . . Flora? Slow down . . . You ran over a squirrel? Okay . . . okay . . . No, it’s fine . . . No, I don’t think you should call 911 . . .
No
, do not try to pick it up.” Mom stifled a laugh. “Flora, it happens to all of us. It’s fine, really . . . His tail is twitching?”
Dad grabbed the phone from his wife’s hand. “Get back in the car and run over it again . . . Of course you can. It’s going to die anyway. Flora, it’s no big deal. It’s a squirrel . . . No, I can’t come over there. We’re at a meeting downtown.” Dad rolled his eyes. “You’re where? . . . No, I don’t know anyone in Winter Park. What are you doing there? Are you sitting on the side of the road? . . . You’re in the middle of the road? . . . Get back in your car . . . Flora, get in the car. If you keep standing there, you’re going to get run over yourself. It’ll be fine.”
Dad pulled the phone away from his ear as Flora let out a scream that sounded like a bad opera singer’s high C. “Someone just ran over it? Well then, all’s well that ends well . . . I thought you said anytime is a good time for Shakespeare? . . . Yes, go get a smoothie. That’s a great idea. Bye.”
Chad looked at his father and laughed. “So Flora ran over a squirrel in Winter Park?”
“That she did.” Dad leaned back in the beanbag chair.
“And why did she go out to Winter Park?” Chad asked.
“Because a store there sells organic wheatgrass.”
“Of course.”
If the dictionary had pictures, Flora Lopez’s head shot would be right beside the word
eccentric
. With ever-changing hair and retro-hippy fashions, the funky fifty-year-old was a walking contradiction. She was a mature Christian with an unparalleled work ethic. She didn’t even need a planner. Flora’s photographic memory kept the entire Beacon family on time and on schedule. Her quirks kept them in stitches.
“Twenty years with us, and that woman can still surprise me.” Dad shook his head.
Chad laughed. “That’s why we love her.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Beacon, Chad.” Samuel Dillard stepped into the lobby. He looked like he had just eaten an entire lemon—peel and all. “You may come back in.”
Chad held a hand out, first to his mother, then to his father, as they fought their way out of the beanbag chairs. Mr. Dillard walked away.
“He didn’t look happy,” Chad whispered to his mother.
“That may bode well for us.” Mom smiled.
The threesome walked into the conference room, and Mr. Dillard returned to his seat at the head of the table.
No one is looking at us
. Every spoonful of Chad’s corn chowder from lunch inched its way up his esophagus.
Why aren’t they looking at us?
“Chad,” Mr. Dillard said, making a one-syllable name impossibly long. “Before we tell you our decision, we want to know what
you
really want. Not what your parents want.”
Chad looked from Mr. Dillard to the other executives. “Excuse me?”
“You’ll be eighteen in, what, six months?”
“November 25th, sir. That’s six months, twenty-one days.” Chad looked at his watch. “And seven hours. But who’s counting?”
Chad’s laughter echoed in the room. No one else joined in.
“We’re counting.” Mr. Dillard pressed his wide lips together. “When you’re eighteen, you will no longer be bound by the restrictions of your parents. You will be an adult. We are willing to wait until then to begin the show. We can start taping after the New Year and have a summer start date. How does that sound?”
Chad looked from the network executives to his parents. “It sounds like you don’t like what my parents had to say. Which I understand. I feel the same way sometimes.”
“I’m sure you do.” Mr. Dillard’s Joker smile made another appearance.
“I may be fairly new to the business, but I do know that, no matter what, someone is going to be around telling me what to do. Parents, agents, producers, sponsors.” Chad watched Dillard’s smile melt. “And everybody says they want what’s best for me. But only my parents have the track record to prove it.”
Samuel Dillard cleared his throat. “Chad, I certainly respect your parents. And I believe they believe they have your best interests at heart, but—”
“You believe we
believe
we have Chad’s best interests at heart? What is that supposed to mean?” Dad leaned forward in his seat.
“It means that we believe you think being overprotective is what’s best for him.”
“Overprotective?” Mom frowned at Mr. Dillard. “He’s just spent the last two years on television and in recording studios, mingling with all sorts of people.”
“With you right by his side.” Mr. Dillard folded his arms. “You homeschool him, right? You don’t let him out of your sight, don’t let him make his own decisions? ”
Chad had heard enough. He stood. “I’ll make my own decision right now. I’m out of here. You think you can belittle my parents—and me—and I’d still want to work with you? ”
The female executive next to Chad put her hand on his arm. “We’re on your side, Chad. We want you to grow as an artist. We want to give you wings. You are a good son. I applaud your loyalty. But you’ve got to do what’s right for you now.”
Chad glared at the group of executives. “And you think what’s right for me is waiting so you can pick my costar instead of my parents? So you can have the final say in what’s going on? How is that what’s right for me?”
Mr. Dillard motioned for Chad to sit. He glanced around the room. An unspoken message was sent from the other seven executives to Mr. Dillard. That man sat up, his hands emphasizing his words. “Fine. You win.”
The disappointment Chad had felt at Dillard’s behavior was replaced with excitement. He was really going to get to do this.
“But the costar has to be talented. This is a sketch comedy show, and this young woman will be one of the two main stars. She has to be able to play different roles, speak in different accents. Sing. She needs to have had some experience. I’m not going to allow you to bring some little choir girl in here. We’re investing too much in this show for that.”
“I never said we wanted a choir girl,” Dad said. “But we do want a Christian girl.”
Mr. Dillard sighed. “All right, how about this? We have our casting agency hold auditions and narrow the pool down to ten. We’re not concerned with what religion those ten are, just that they’re talented enough to star in this show.”
“All right.” His father nodded.
“Those ten come down here to Orlando for a few weeks of intense auditions.” Dillard made air quotes on the words
intense auditions
.
“And . . . ?” Mom asked.
“And you guys watch those auditions. You can watch the tapes of their screen tests, see which ones you like.”
“Why can’t we just talk to them personally?” Dad asked.
“We don’t want anyone knowing Chad is starring in this show yet. He’s a hot commodity.” Dillard arched his eyebrows. “We don’t want this news to leak out. We want to make a huge announcement, get it to the big magazines and talk shows at the same time, right before we’re ready to launch the show.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Actually, Mom.” Chad touched her arm. “I like it.”
“Really? Why?”
“We get a chance to see the girls for who they really are. You know how some girls act when they know I’m around.”
Dad nodded. “Good point. If these girls know they’re not just competing for a role on a show, but a role costarring with you on a show, that’s going to be big news. They’ll be acting all the time, trying to get the part.”
“But how much can we really learn about the girls by watching their screen tests?” Mom asked.
Mr. Dillard scratched his head. “How about this: We tape the audition process. All of it—the screen tests, the girls sitting around together, getting to know each other, working on sketches of their own. You could see more of them and we could turn that into a TV show that could be aired in the weeks leading up to the first show.”
The woman next to Chad jumped in. “That’s a great idea. You could build up the suspense, give the girl a fan base before we even start.”
“And if we keep our October start date, we can get the shots of the auditions edited and ready to go in September. One show a week, leading up to the big reveal at the end. That, alongside the media blitz we have planned—” Dillard slapped his hand on the table, causing sheets of paper to fly upward. “I love it. This is brilliant. We’ll start out with an audience of millions.”
Dad lifted a hand to halt the merriment. “But I still don’t see how watching girls audition allows us to really get to know their characters.”
“Come on, work with me, Beacon,” Dillard growled.
“Flora.” Chad grinned.
The network executives and Chad’s parents all looked at him like he had grown a second head.
“Sorry,” Chad said. “Flora is our assistant. She’s like family. But she’s never been on TV with us.”
“Absolutely refuses to even have her picture taken,” Dad said.
“Exactly.” Chad’s voice rose as he continued. “None of the girls would know she’s connected with us. She could hang around and get to know them, and then she could give us her firsthand impressions.”
“That’s a great idea,” Mom said.
“How do you expect to explain her presence with the girls?” Mr. Dillard asked. “Just have some random woman walking around behind them? That won’t work.”
Mom leaned forward. “The girls will be in a house together, right? While they’re auditioning?”
“Yes, I suppose,” Mr. Dillard muttered.
“Then Flora could be the housemother. You’ll need an adult supervising them anyway. I can vouch for Flora. She’s been working for us for more than twenty years.”
Mr. Dillard looked around the table. “I guess that could work. But are you sure she’ll want to do it?”
Chad smiled. “Flora loves trying new things.”
“That she does.” Dad laughed.
“Well, all right. We’ll get the auditions under way. Give us a month or so to narrow down our top ten, then we’ll bring your Flora in.”
“Okay, Mr. Dillard.” Chad shook the executive’s large hand. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
S
eventeen-year-old Kara McKormick hung up the phone and screamed. And screamed. Her mother came in from the backyard, screaming.
“Kara.” She panted, slamming the back door as she rushed to her daughter. “What’s the matter? What happened? Are you all right?”
“Yes, I—” Kara screamed again, hugging her mother and dancing around the kitchen. “Ma, you’ll never believe this.” Kara started to scream again, and her mother placed a firm hand over her mouth.
“Kara, my ears are bleeding, you’re so loud. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s got you so excited.”
She removed her hand from Kara’s mouth with a warning look. Kara bit her tongue and jumped up and down. “Okay, Ma,” she said, still jumping. “I have been chosen to . . .” Kara stopped midsentence, her mouth frozen.
“Kara Elaine McKormick.” Hands on her hips, she stared at her daughter. “Do not scream. What are you, five? Just tell me. Quickly, before you explode.”
“I get to audition for a TV show that’s just for teens on a network that lets its stars help write the scripts and the songs and plan the publicity. And this show is going to be the first one, the big one, and they’re investing lots of money into it, so it’ll be huge and they want me to audition. Me, Ma.” Kara stopped to breathe—something she hadn’t done the entire time she had been explaining the phone call to her mother.
“You’re auditioning for a show?”
“Not just any show, Ma,” Kara said, still catching her breath. “A huge show. Major.”
“That’s great, sweetie.” Her mother opened the fridge and pulled out a can of soda. “So when are the auditions? ”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know.” Kara grabbed the countertop to keep herself steady. “I was so excited, I didn’t ask. Oh no. This is terrible. It’s all over. Why didn’t I ask?”
Ma opened the soda and handed it to Kara. “Think back to the phone call. Who called?”
“Okay, it was, um, it was a man . . .”
“All right, a man called and he said . . . ?”
“He saw me on
The Book of Love
and thought I had spunk.”
“He’s right about that.” Ma rubbed Kara’s back. “Then what did he say?”
“He asked if I was interested in auditioning. I said yes. He asked if I could come into the city for auditions. I said yes.”