disneymagics

“No, we agreed!” Christian said, arms crossed over his chest, a stubborn set to his jaw.

“Well, I’m changing my mind.  I’m allowed to do that,” Steve responded, taking an angry step closer to the other man.

Jared got ready to intercede if need be.  There were too many cameras pointed at them, and although the audience had thinned significantly, there were still people milling around.  A fight between winning and losing contestants would not be good PR for the newly formed band.

Christian’s eyes narrowed, giving him the look of a bull zeroing in on its target.  “Yeah well, you can’t force me to do it.  I won’t.”

Just when Jared thought he was going to have to step in before the first punch was thrown, Steve’s posture seemed to deflate, like the anger was being siphoned out of him.  He put a hand on Christian’s forearm.

“Look man, this is the opportunity of a lifetime.  You gotta take it.  I appreciate your loyalty, but don’t be a stupid ass.”

Christian looked down and away, no longer the crazed bull about to charge, more like a chagrined billy goat gruff who’d just been outmaneuvered.

Deciding that the danger was past, Jared moved away to give them the privacy they needed to work things out on their own.

“Jared!”

His sister’s shout came from the front edge of the stage, and Jared hurried to meet his family where they were being held off by a couple stern looking men in black security uniforms.

“It’s okay, they’re with me,” Jared told them.  He briefly wondered how the disapproving woman had gotten past them to collect Jensen, but his thoughts were interrupted as his sister launched herself into his arms and squealed loudly directly into his ear.

“Ow, that was my ear.”

With the way her head was pressed against his face, her good ear close to his mouth, he knew she’d be able to hear him.  As a child, Megan had severe ear infections, resulting in almost total hearing loss in her right ear and partial hearing loss in her left.

Unapologetic, she screamed, “You did it!  I can’t believe you actually did it!”

“Your faith in me is underwhelming,” he snarked back at her.

Megan grinned as she let him go so his mother could have a turn.  

Tears ran down his mom’s face.  “I always knew you could do it.  You don’t let anything stand in your way.  Never have.  Anything you put your mind to, you accomplish.”

He wrapped his arms around her.  “Thanks, mom.”

“I’m proud of you son,” his dad said, squeezing his neck.  His dad wasn’t really a hugger.

“Thanks, dad.”

Jeff and Veronique were next.  Jeff pulled him into a one-armed hug and Veronique gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Can I get our five new band members over here please?”

Jared looked around to see where the microphone-amplified voice was coming from and saw a handsome older man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, standing center stage.  There was movement from different parts of the stage as the other four contest winners disengaged from conversations they were having with - Jared assumed - the family and friends who had accompanied them.  He was interested to see that even Christian started walking over.

“Well, go on,” his brother said, giving him a push.

He gave his family a smile and strode over to where the group had gathered.

The speaker handed his microphone to a nearby PA and motioned the five of them into a close huddle, as though what he had to say was for them only.  “Let me congratulate all five of you!  You did an outstanding job today and each of you has earned your spot in the band!  My name is Jeffrey Dean Morgan, but you guys can call me Jeff.  I’m the CEO at Star Struck Records.”  He beamed at them, then continued.  “First things first, we have some paperwork to get out of the way.”  He waved over the PA and took a stack of legal-sized Manila folders from her.  “I have here your contracts and a form giving us permission to do background checks on you.  The contract you can take with you, read over it, have your lawyer read over it, but I’ll need a signed copy back within thirty days.  The background check form, on the other hand, I’ll need you to sign that one today, right now.”  He passed a folder to each of them.

The folder he handed to Jared had his name on the front in big, block letters.

“You see, things are about to move fast for you guys.  You’ll be a hot topic now, right after the live stream of the contest.  We have to capitalize on that.  I have interviews set up for you at a couple radio stations already.  We’ll start there and see where that takes us.  I’m hoping to get you on some daytime talk shows next.  Your trainers have been hired and will begin lessons at the house next week, which reminds me…”  He fished around in his pocket, pulling out a handful of keys, each attached to a Star Struck Records key fob.  “You each get a key to the house.”

Osric took his key, eyes wide.  “You’re giving us each a house?”

That got a sharp bark of laughter from Jeff.  “No, that’s a key to the house you’ll all be living in for the foreseeable future.  It belongs to the company, but it has everything you’ll need while you’re in training and beyond: a dance studio, a gym, and a music room for vocal and instrumental work.  It even has a pool in the backyard.  Of course there’s a kitchen, a living area, and bedrooms as well.”

Jared eyed the key Jeff handed him.  He didn’t know what he had expected, but this news shocked him.  “So wait…we’re going to be living together…here in Austin?  All five of us?”

Jeff nodded.  “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, um, not a problem.  I guess, I just didn’t know what to expect.”  Suddenly, this was all becoming very real for him.  He was going to be living in a house with four strangers.  Sure, he’d done something similar the first year he’d lived in the Disney dorm and been assigned his three dorm mates, but he’d known what he was getting in to then, had time to mentally prepare himself to live in close quarters with people he’d never met before.  This seemed different.  Probably because he hadn’t thought he was going to win, and so hadn’t given the aftermath of winning much thought.  Surreptitiously, he looked around at the other guys and noticed that they were all doing the same thing.  At least, he wasn’t the only one feeling a little off kilter.

“Good, that’s good,” Jeff said.  “There’s a lot to do and not much time to do it.  Your managers are at the house waiting for you now.  I’m really happy we were able to secure these two managers for you.  I think you’re really going to like them,  They’re the best in the business, Samantha Ferris and Tahmoh Penikett.  They work together as a team and have many big name stars on their roster.  They’ll be able to answer any other questions you have far better than I can.  So, if you’ll all sign those background check forms, you can go over to the house and meet them.”

At his signal, the PA handed out pens with the Star Struck Records logo stamped on them.

Jared got the distinct impression that Jeff, having given his spiel, was ready to be done with the chore of greeting the new talent and wanted to send them on their way as quickly as possible.

Taboo backed up a step, as though getting ready to flee.  “Right now?  We have to sign it right now?  What happens if we don’t?”

Jeff’s eyebrows drew together in a way that suggested he’d never heard such foolishness.  “I’m afraid if you don’t sign the form, we’ll have to go with the runner up from today’s contest.  I hope it doesn’t come to that, Taboo.  I’d hate to have to say goodbye to you.”  Jeff’s no-nonsense tone had a ring of finality to it.

Taboo opened his folder like a snake might be coiled inside it, pulled out the form, and signed it, jaw clenched all the while.

Jared had not qualms about signing the background check waiver.  He’d been through something similar with Disney.  His life was an open book.  Star Struck Records wouldn’t find any dirt on him.  He did wonder, though, what Taboo was afraid they’d find out about him.

After scrawling his signature at the bottom of the form, he handed it back to the PA.  The four others did the same.

Aldis rubbed a hand over his lightly-stubbled jaw.  “What about our families?”  He gestured back behind Jared.  “Can they come see the house, too?”

Jared turned to where Aldis had pointed and saw a clump of people, including his parents, Megan, Jeff, and Veronique, mingling around.  He assumed the other people in the group were friends with or family to Aldis, Taboo, Osric, and Christian.  His new band mates.  He needed to start thinking about them that way instead of as just strangers.

“Not right away.  They’ll be invited over later, after you’ve had time to meet your managers.  I expect Samantha and Tahmoh will have a lot to go over with you.  Why don’t you tell your families that you’ll see them later and Julie here will take you to the bus.”  He pointed at the PA.  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you later, boys.  Welcome to Star Struck Records.”  He shook hands with each of them and left.

Not exactly the warmest man, Jared thought as he headed over to his family, but nice enough.  For an executive bigwig.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**

The gated community the bus entered half an hour later gave Jared pause to consider the change in his circumstances.  Gated communities were for people who needed additional privacy, people like young men in popular boy bands, people with overzealous fans.  The idea of teenage girls hiding out in the bushes just to catch a glimpse of him made him snicker.  Maybe he was getting ahead of himself.  Just a little.

The bus rolled up and came to a stop in front of a three story house, all white except for a few touches of black trim.  It didn’t stand out much among all the other similarly white houses in the neighborhood.  Perhaps it was a neighborhood association thing.  His parents neighborhood association wasn’t nearly so strict as to restrict the paint color choices of its residents, although, it did require that houses be pressure washed and lawns mowed on a regular basis.

Jared hopped off the bus behind Christian.  Osric, Taboo, and Aldis followed closely on his heals, everyone seemingly anxious/excited to see where they would be living.

The front door opened as they were walking up the stone path that led from the street to the cement porch.  A lady, probably in her late forties if Jared had to guess, stood in the doorway, a welcoming smile lighting her face.  She had dark hair that went past her shoulders, and she gave off a motherly vibe just by her demeanor alone.

“There you are, our newest idols.  Let me get a look at you.”  She came down the porch stairs, one hand resting lightly on the black wrought-iron railing.  “Oh yes, I can see what the judges saw in you.  You all have that super star glow.”

Jared thought he saw a teasing glint in her eyes, but it was hard to tell since he didn’t know her yet.

“I’m Samantha Ferris.  You can call me Sam.  I’m one of your new managers.”  She held up a hand to forestall them from replying with their own names.  “Before you introduce yourselves, why don’t you come in and meet Tahmoh, that way you only have to introduce yourselves once.”

Immediately upon entering the house, there was a regal staircase, curving up to the second floor.

“The practice rooms are here on the first floor.  We’ll give you the grand tour later.  For now, we’ll go upstairs to the living quarters.”  

She led them up the staircase into an open floor plan area twice as big as Jared’s whole apartment back in Orlando.  A living room setup dominated the space, a large flatscreen TV on one wall and several comfy looking chairs and a sectional sofa in the middle, facing the TV.  A picture window, overlooking a patio and pool, took up the majority of another wall.  The floor was hardwood, and there were pastel colored rugs of various designs placed in strategic locations around the room.  A kitchen and dining area were visible on the far side of the space. Everything looked crisp and brand new.

Seated on the sectional was a man wearing taupe pants with a drawstring in the front paired with a long, loose-fitting linen shirt of many colors.  Oh, and he was barefoot.  Very bohemian.

As they came up the stairs, the man stood.  “Ah, the conquering hero’s have arrived.  It’s good to meet you, I’m Tahmoh.”

Jared waited for one of the other boys to introduce themselves first, not wanting to step on anyones toes, but when no one spoke up, and the silence stretched into awkward territory, he said, “Hi, I’m Jared.”  He waved at Tahmoh and to Samantha.  “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Good Jared, you have leadership potential.  It’s important to find out those kinds of things early on.  We’ll talk about that more in a little while.  Who’s next?”  

Christian spoke up next, then Aldis, Taboo, and Osric.

Jared thought the order symbolized something.  There was a reason Tahmoh had left it up to them, instead of asking them for their names individually or shaking their hands.  He then wondered if everything Tahmoh said and did was going to be a test of one kind or another.

“Have a seat guys, and let’s talk.  We have a lot to discuss.”  Tahmoh took up his original space on the sectional, legs crossed.  Sam sat next to him.  Aldis and Osric sat on either side of them, while Jared, Christian and Taboo took the chairs.  

“It’s been a big day for you guys so far.  I bet you’re feeling somewhat overwhelmed.”  Sam’s smile was understanding.

“You got that right,” Aldis agreed, then tacked on, “Ma’am.”

Sam laughed.  “There are no Ma’ams or Sirs here, Aldis.  We’re just here to help guide you.  We’ve been in this business for a long time and it’s our job to show you the ropes, act as mentors, and occasionally as councilors.  Whatever you need, you can come to us.”

Tahmoh clapped his hands once.  “Okay, let’s get started.  We’re going to go around the room.  I want you each to tell us a little bit about yourself.  What are your strengths as a performer?  What do you need to work on or need help with?  Don’t be afraid to be honest.  You are a group now, no longer individuals, but part of a team.  You aren’t competing against each other anymore.  The success of the team relies on you helping each other, building each other up.  You each have a role to play within the group.  Together, we need to figure out what your roles are going to be.”  He pointed to his left.  “Osric, start us off.”

Fidgeting with his fingers, Osric said, “I’m eighteen.  Graduated high school a year early…I was in advanced placement.  For the last three years, I attended the New York Conservatory for the Arts, concentrating in ballet and piano.  Um, I’d say talking in front of people isn’t my strong suite.”  He snorted in a self-deprecating way.  “I’d rather let my performance speak for me.”

“Thank you for that, Osric.  How about you, Christian?”

“Hey, you’re making me feel old over here, kiddo,” Christian said to Osric.  “I’m twenty-four.  Guess I’m probably the oldest one here.  I’m a singer, guitar player, song writer, mostly.  My best friend and me…well, we’ve toured around a bit, put out an album.  Nothing you’ve most likely heard tell of.”  He grinned, leaned back in his recliner, and stretched his legs out in front of himself.  “Dancing’s gotta be my biggest weakness.  I can two-step with the best of’em, but I don’t have any formal dance training.”

“Good, Christian.  Taboo, will you go next?”

“Taboo’s not my real name.  It’s my stage name, but I prefer it over my real name.”  Taboo left that hanging there for a moment before continuing.  “Anyway, singing’s my passion, rap music mostly.  I’ve taken some modern dance lessons and there’s this club in LA where I perform sometimes.  Oh, and everyone else said how old they were, so I’m twenty-one.”

“Very nice, Taboo.  Jared, you’re up.”

Jared gave one of his dimple-popping grins and said, “Cool, I’d say my strength is showmanship.  Every good band has to have great showmanship.  I mean, look at Queen.  Not only did Freddy Mercury have an amazing voice and range, but he was the best showman around.  He knew how to work a crowd.  I think I can bring some of that energy to our performances.  And for weaknesses…” he looked up at the ceiling.  “I’d say I could use some help coordinating my dance moves to go with my singing.  I’m really kind of freestyle, just do whatever comes to me in the moment.  And I have no fashion sense,” he added, remembering Jensen’s help applying kohl.

“Your age?” Taboo stage-whispered.

“Right, I just turned twenty-two.”

“Thank you, Jared.  Last, but not least, Aldis.”

“Yo,” Aldis drawled.  “I’m also twenty-two.”

Christian blew out a breath.  “I knew it.  I am oldest.”

“Yeah, old man, you got me beat by two years.”  Aldis smirked at Christian’s pout.  “Anyhoo, strength’s my dancing.  I can break dance, pop-n-lock, hip-hop, house dance, and new style.  There ain’t a dance style created that I can’t learn.  I grew up in Philly, my parents weren’t around much, so I learned to take care of myself, ya know?  Weakness had gotta be singing.  I can carry a tune, but there ain’t much call for singing while break dancing.”

“Thanks for sharing with us, Aldis.”  Tahmoh steepled his fingers.  “We’ve learned a lot about each of you in a short time.  In the weeks, months, and hopefully years to come, you’ll learn a lot more.  Hopefully, while you were listening to each other, you were thinking about how you could help each other become stronger overall performers.  You may have noticed that your strength was another members weakness.  That was purposeful.  You are very different people, but together you will become a force with which to reckon. Balance you strength with another’s weakness and watch the cohesive unit you build.”   

News traveled fast in the entertainment world, and within two hours of Star Struck label’s musician casting call hitting social media, every boy band wannabe from LA to NYC was making plans to travel to Austin for the audition.

Choosing the right talent for the band was a crucial first step, and the Star Struck executives had a blueprint they planned to follow to the letter.  

1)The band must consist of five members; not four, not six, but precisely five.  This allowed for diversity among the members without becoming logistically too difficult to manage.

2)The boys must all be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four.

3)They must each be talented enough that they could be shaped and formed into a singing and dancing powerhouse without being so talented that their egos would become problematic.

4)They must also have the following characteristics:  a. charisma b. personality c. be objectively handsome (at least on some level) d. be wholesome and e. be sexy enough to make a fourteen-year-old girl lose her ever-living mind, but not in a dangerous way that would be off-putting to the fourteen-year-old girl’s parents (see d. above).

5)And finally, they should come from very different backgrounds, giving the band as a whole a wider range of appeal.

A score card would be filled out on each contestant, ranking their abilities and merits in categories based on the blueprint.  These highly confidential score cards - the contestants would never know on what they were being judged - could then be used to rank them and chose the ten finalists.

Thus, in Spring of 2022, with the blueprint firmly ingrained in their minds, the forty-six judges hand picked by Star Struck Records CEO, Jeffery Dean Morgan himself, descended on the high school where auditions would be held.  Forty-six judges seemed like a lot, but if they were to get through all the auditions in the three days allowed by the high school, they would need every single one.  And that didn’t include all the PAs and other faculty required to shepherd the contestants from one audition station to the next.

The high school was perfect for their purpose, a sprawling complex of buildings that could be sectioned off and used to house all four parts of the audition; the interview, the dance routine, the a cappella vocal portion, and the instrumental-accompanied vocal portion.  An entire wing was even designated as the contestant’s waiting area.

A grand total of three thousand and fifty-two hopefuls registered on-line.  Even though they all had pre-assigned numbers written on the name tags emailed to them in advance along with the audition schedule and instructions, a good number decided to camp out at the school over night such that pre-dawn on the first day found the school grounds veritably crawling with excited young men.

The name tag of one of these young men read: Jake Abel #63.  Jake considered himself an actor/singer and even had a few television commercial roles under his belt to substantiate his claim.  His musical ability was all self-taught, and his dancing ability was non-existent.  That wasn’t going to stop him though.  Head shot and resume in hand, Jake strolled casually beside the PA who was taking him to the interview room, his longer legs easily keeping up with her much shorter ones.  He figured the interview would be a piece of cake.  Although he had no idea what questions would be asked or on what he would be judged, he could pour on the charm when needed and knew his classic good looks would serve him well.  They usually did.  He was confident in his singing ability, so that part of the audition shouldn’t pose a problem.  That just left the dance portion.  Well, dancing wasn’t that difficult, he thought.  He could wing it.  And besides, no one could be good at everything.  Looks were probably the biggest factor being judged here anyway.  Glancing around, he smirked to himself.  He was much better looking than most of the other guys here.   He was a shoe in.

Osric Chau #801 originally hailed from Canada.  A child prodigy, at the age of four he had been versatile in a range of instruments, including piano, violin, and flute.  By the time he turned eight, his parents had him enrolled in vocal and ballet lessons.  They moved to New York in time for him to start high school and attend the NY Conservatory of Music.  Osric lived to perform, never happier than when he was on stage in one capacity or another, be it singing or dancing or playing an instrument, he didn’t care.  He loved it all.  Talking to people, on the other hand, was the bane of his existence.  Words never seemed to come out right, and interviews always made him feel awkward and self-conscious.  Give him the stage any day of the week and twice on weekends.  On the stage he could lose himself completely in the performance, devoting himself entirely to the way his body moved in time with the music, the way his hands held the violin bow, or the way his fingers felt against the piano keys.  The audience gave him energy, fueled his mind and body, whereas, speaking in front of people always seemed to suck the life out of him.  The interview was conducted in a classroom.  A chalkboard took up one wall, a row of windows overlooking the football field took up another wall, and a large periodic chart took up a third wall.  Chemistry then.  Four judges -three women and one man - sat in chairs facing an empty fifth chair.  Osric sat when the PA chaperoning him motioned to the empty chair with a small smile and a hurried, “Good luck,” as she dashed out the door, most likely to find auditionee #802.  He handed over his head shot and resume when prompted by a lady judge who had short, dark hair and glasses that reminded him a lot of his mom’s.  Steeling his nerves for the first question, he reminded himself that once the interview was over it was on to the fun stuff, and hoped that thoughts of performing would get him through the interview portion of the audition without coming off as an idiot who couldn’t string a coherent sentence together.

Country/Rock musicians Steve Carlson #1333 and Christian Kane #1334 bumped their fists together in quiet celebration as they left the interview room, happy with their responses to the questions and the rapport they felt they’d developed with their interviewers.  Although the judges had urged them to interview separately, they insisted on going through the audition process as a team.  Either both of them got selected or neither.  They would have it no other way.  It had been Steve’s idea to try out for the boy band just like it had been his idea to take their two man show on the road and his idea to record their first album, all of which had gone reasonably well so far.  Their tour bookings usually consisted of good ‘ole honky tonk bars and county fairs, and the album had only been downloaded a modest number of times.  Still, it was something to build on, and this could be their big break.  They both felt the highlight of the interview was the story Christian told about their latest gig at the Oklahoma State Fair.  The part about the goat that somehow escaped from its 4-H pen and wandered on stage while they were performing brought all four judges to tears, laughing so hard that the dude had almost fallen off his plastic chair ass-first onto the floor.  When the next PA came to show them to the a cappella vocal audition room, they were leaning against the white cinderblock wall, rehashing the interview highlights and chuckling over the wink one of the lady judges had thrown them on their way out of the room.

Rap artist Kim Rhodes, aka Taboo #1439 tugged her ballcap in place over her short-cropped hair as she took her place on the stage in front of the a cappella vocal judges.  Sure, she knew this was an audition for a boy band, but fuck that.  How many really successful girl bands were there?  Not many.  How many really successful girl rap artists were there?  Again, not many.  So, if she had to strap her boobs down and pretend to be a boy, then that’s just what she would goddamn do, and screw anyone who tried to stop her.  Her parents thought she was just going through some strange phase, that eventually she would snap out of it and follow her sisters examples by marrying a fucking boring asshole, popping out a couple brats, and living some fucking sweet life of PTA meetings and country club luncheons.  Yeah, right.  They would never understand how passionate she was about her music.  To them, it just sounded like noise.  To her, music was the answer to every question ever asked.  It brought both the light of dawn and the darkness of an all-encompassing night.  It was everything.  At the judges prompt to begin whenever she was ready, she centered herself, opened her mouth, and sang like her very soul depended on it.  She belted out her rendition of Industry Baby pitch perfect.  At the conclusion, she dropped her head, eyes closed, and simply breathed.  She’d fucking nailed it. Interview and a cappella down, instrument assisted singing and dancing yet to go.  She was halfway there.

A woman in a navy blue pantsuit stopped pacing in front of her son, Jensen Ackles #2022, straightening the collar on the white button down shirt she’d picked out for him while giving his hairstyle another critical assessment.  It was the second day of the auditions and she couldn’t help but worry over the number of other boys here.  There were just so many.  Not everything was riding on this, but it would be quite a feather in her cap if her son was a member of the next big boy band.  And she was certain that if her son was a member, they would be big.  No scratch that, they would be huge!  Her son had the voice of an angel and the face to go with it.  Heck, she’d started getting him modeling gigs as soon as he was out of diapers.  Jensen’s father had left her before he’d even been born and she hadn’t seen the point in dating anyone else, much less getting married after that.  She had devoted herself fully to her only child, managing his modeling career, and all that devotion could come to fruition if he was selected for this band.  A rumbling noise caught her attention as her son looked away, an embarrassed expression on his face.  Ah yes, he was hungry.  They’d rehearsed all morning in the spare classroom she’d found, and subsequently missed lunch.  But that was okay, they could eat once he was done auditioning.  A little hunger was an easy sacrifice for her to make.  The PA came to collect them, leading them to one of the instrument accompanied vocal audition rooms.  She tried to enter the room with him, but was told - just like she was told when she tried to enter the interview and a cappella rooms - that she was not allowed to be in there with him while he auditioned which was bullshit, but whatever.  Her son clutched his guitar to his chest, gave her a stilted nod, and entered the room, determination shining in his eyes.  His determination gave her a boost of confidence.  He could do this.  His age might be an issue; he was younger than the required eighteen years stipulated in the paperwork she’d filled out, but the judges would be fools not to select her son, regardless of their silly rules.

Just a small town boy from Tennessee, Colin Ford #2376 was nervous.  He’d never done anything like this before.  Singing and dancing came naturally to him and even performing in front of people was no big deal, but auditioning for something as big as this…nope, this was new territory.  His salt-of-the-earth parents had given him quizzical looks when he’d told them he was flying to Austin, Texas to audition for a part in a boy band.  A boy band for fuck’s sake!  He couldn’t blame them for their skepticism.  He wondered himself what the hell he was doing here.  A zombie apocalypse seemed more likely than him getting selected for a boy band.  And yet, when his buddies from the musical theatre group he belonged to said they were going to audition, he’d agreed to come along…for moral support.  Somehow, he’d ended up with a name tag and a number for himself and here he was, handing the sheet music for the song he’d selected to the pianist who was going to accompany his vocal audition.  The room appeared to be the schools’s chorus room.  Music stands of various heights haphazardly lined the walls, obviously pushed out of the way for the three judges seated off to the left of a piano that had seen better days.  The introductory notes from his musical choice sounded through the room, and Colin took in a deep breath straight down to his diaphragm as his vocal instructors always preached.  The familiar action calmed his nerves somewhat.  When the right time came, he opened his mouth and let the stirring lyrics of Music of the Night from the Phantom of the Opera carry him away.

Matt Cohen #2511 rubbed at his gritty eyes, hoping like hell they didn’t look as dry and red as they felt.  He’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep last night and barely made his flight from Miami to Austin this morning.  It was lucky he made it all, really.  The Carnival cruise ship to which he was contracted as a performer just happened to be scheduled for some downtime and pulled into dock the day before the last day of Star Struck Records boy band auditions.  Call it fate or karma or whatever you wanted, it seemed as though he was destined to be here.  If he believed in destiny, which he emphatically did, he would have to say there was a reason for the fortuitous timing of the ship’s scheduled downtime.  This idea of his future stardom destiny buoyed him.  As he collected his sheet music from the pianist, he remembered to thank her.  She had done a great job accompanying him for his vocal audition, and supporting cast members rarely got the thanks they deserved.  He should know.  He’d worked the cruise ship circuit as a chorus line member performing in various shows for the last eighteen months.  Although exciting at first, the tiny, windowless space he was allocated on the ship, the long rehearsals, next to no time off to visit the ports of call, and two shows every night had quickly lost their charm.  He needed a change of pace, and apparently fate agreed with him.

Street dancer Aldis Hodge #2845 was beyond pumped to have finally made it to the dance part of the audition.  Street dancing took a level of athleticism and strength that most people simply didn’t appreciate.  He had started off taking acrobatic lessons at the community center back home in Philly, when he was a kid.  From there, he had trained with some of the best street performers around, danced on some of the most famous streets in America.  Hell, his tick tock videos got thousands of views, and not only because he danced shirtless.  And why shouldn’t he?  He worked hard for his six pack abs, might as well share the eye candy.  He was generous that way.  The dance auditions were being held in the school’s auditorium which had been separated into four sections so multiple auditions could be going on at the same time.  It was chaotic.  Music from other candidates’ routines competed for dominance in the large space.  The acoustics were terrible.  Aldis was thrilled.  He thrived in chaotic environments like this, was used to performing with horns honking, people pushing past him, music blaring from passing cars.  Unlike his competition, who had probably only performed in quiet studios or on stage in front of hushed audiences, he was completely at home amongst the hectic atmosphere.  Flashing the judges a blinding white smile, he handed his CD to the PA and prepared to dance with everything he had, albeit fully clothed.

A moment was all Jared Padalecki #3049 needed to catch his breath after his dance routine before he was back to hamming it up in front of the judges, blowing kisses, making a giant heart symbol by putting the fingers of both hands on the top of his head, and shouting ‘Love you guys!’ as loudly as he could.  What could he say; he’d watched his fair share of BTS videos recently.  Only in preparation for the audition, obviously.  No, really.  He finished his shenanigans by throwing an over-the-top wink at the camera mounted on the wall behind the judges.  There had been cameras in all the audition rooms, in the halls, and around the school grounds.  There had even been a few photographers roaming around doing spontaneous, informal interviews throughout the audition process.  Now the waiver that all applicants had to sign before being given their name tag and number made sense.  Apparently, Star Struck Records wanted to use the footage as publicity to drum up hype on their new band.  Smart thinking on their part.  If he had learned only one thing from his two summers in the Disney College Program it was that big hype paid off.  Disney was all about hype and look at how successful that company was.  During his time with Disney, he had performed in many an after hours stage show, and they were always sold out, night, after night, after night.  He would happily continue working for the Mouse, except that he’d graduated last year and so was no longer eligible for the DCP.  He’d yet to find a job with his bachelor’s in communications that really appealed to him.  So, when he’d seen the instagram post about the boy band auditions, he’d thought why not give it a go.