Ruby Parker: Musical Star

“And? Almost all the actors in it are to be kids aged between twelve and sixteen. And guess who’s auditioning for the lead role?”

“Um…” For one horrible moment I had visions of my Hollywood nemesis Adrienne Charles coming all this way across the Atlantic just to harass me.

“Jade Caruso, you idiot,” Anne Marie told me, flinging her arms in the air. “Her daddy couldn’t buy her any talent so he gave her a TV musical instead!”

“Jade can’t be the lead in a musical,” I said. “She’s an even worse singer than me!”

“I know,” Anne-Marie exclaimed. “And that’s saying something.”

“Well, to be fair to Jade,” Nydia interrupted, making Anne-Marie roll her eyes, “Mr Caruso is holding open auditions and Jade says she has to go through them like everyone else. She’s told her dad she doesn’t want any special treatment.”

“Really?” I asked, looking at Anne-Marie in disbelief.

“You know that you should be at those auditions, don’t you?” Anne-Marie asked me. “You and Sean should both be there.”

When she said that I felt something go off in my tummy, like a spark – a little flicker of how I used to feel about acting. Chances like the one Jade was getting should be earned and not bought, and was she really going to earn it? Then it hit me – who was I to talk? I got offered a film part and a TV role all because at the age of six I was picked at random to be in a soap opera. I hadn’t earned any of my chances and as soon as my talent had truly been tested, it had failed miserably.

“But Sean’s not going, right?” I asked her.

Anne-Marie sighed and flopped down on my bed.

“No, he’s not. But that shouldn’t stop you!”

“The last thing I want is to ever go to another audition,” I assured her. “I’m with Sean on this one.”

“Anyway,” Nydia said, looking at me sideways, “even if Jade does get through the open auditions, the final decision is going to be made by a public vote on a live televised final. There’s no way they can rig that result.”

“Oh, you are so naïve,” Anne-Marie said, rolling her eyes again. “They do it all the time! She’s bound to get the lead.”

“Only if you two don’t go in for it,” I told both of my friends. “I hope you are.”

“Course we are,” Anne-Mare said. “Sylvia Lighthouse didn’t give us a choice, but we would have anyway. The whole school is, apart from Sean. You should see Danny – one rubbish hit record and he thinks he’s Justin Timberlake. He’s sure he’ll get a male lead and I wouldn’t be surprised if he does because Jade’s still got her eye on him even though he’s going with Smelody Melody…oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t care,” I lied. Mum had told me I’d get over Danny before I knew it, but so far no luck. Not even a lovely kiss with the gorgeous Hunter Blake had worked. I kept my feelings to myself though, because the last thing I needed on top of all the other humiliation I had suffered was to be the girl that Danny Harvey didn’t fancy any more.

“And there is no way we can get you to audition?” Nydia asked me. “What if we brought you cakes? Double chocolate cookies?”

I laughed and flopped back on to my bed. “No, I’m not going to audition,” I said firmly, feeling surprisingly happy about saying those words out loud. I ticked the reasons off on my fingers. “Number one, because I’ve given up show business, or hasn’t anyone noticed? Number two, because I can’t sing. And number three, can you imagine the look on Jade’s face if I turned up? Smug-a-rama!”

“She would be hideously smug, that’s true,” Anne-Marie conceded.

“We’d never hear the end of it,” Nydia added sighing. “But Ruby, just think – if you auditioned and went through to the live televised final and then got a lead role and then was brilliant and then all the critics loved you, then how smug would Jade be? Hey? Not very, that’s how.”

“Look, Nyds, thanks for still believing in me and all that – but this is it. This is me now, OK?”

“OK,” Nydia said, deflating. “If you say so.” Anne-Marie picked up the DVD she’d brought. “So when are we going to watch this then?” She asked me, changing the subject.

Just then the doorbell sounded.

“That’ll be Dakshima,” I told her. “Put the DVD in while I go and get her. And be nice to her, she’s the nearest thing I’ve got to a friend at Highgate and it’s a big deal that she’s come over tonight. Don’t freak her out!”

“Seriously, is that Anne-Marie for real?” Dakshima asked me as I walked out to her dad’s car with her a couple of hours later. “Nydia is cool, but the other chick is just weird. She’s all plastic fantastic. She’s a stage school Barbie.”

I tried not to laugh as I glanced up at my bedroom window where Anne-Marie was no doubt being just as rude about Dakshima. The first meeting between my old and new friend hadn’t gone as well as I had hoped. Nydia was just Nydia, all lovely and funny. Dakshima made it clear she wasn’t impressed that Nydia had been on TV quite a lot, but soon the two of them were hitting it off just like two girls the same age with a lot in common should do. Anne-Marie was completely different. She was like the old Anne-Marie, before Nydia and I had made friends with her – a girl who always seemed aloof, as if the rest of us weren’t good enough for her. She barely spoke to Dakshima and when she did it came out either rude or stuck up.

“The thing is,” I tried to explain to Dakshima, “she’s not really like that. I thought she was a total cow too for ages, and she thought I was one, but she’s just shy and when she meets people she doesn’t know she puts on a front. A lot of us actors…a lot of actors are really shy. I know it seems weird that they can jump about on stage in front of hundreds of people, but that’s because they are being someone else, when they have to be themselves it’s completely different. Once you’ve got to know her you’ll see. She’s a really great friend, plus she could take Adele any day of the week.”

Dakshima looked sceptical. “If you say so,” she said, opening the door of her dad’s car. “Cool DVD though. Do you really know that Hunter kid?”

For about one tenth of second I remembered Hunter kissing me. “Well, I’ve met him,” I said. “Not really the same thing as knowing him.”

“Well, tonight was a laugh. We should hang out more after school anyway,” Dakshima said.

“Great,” I said. “I’d like that.”

“So are you ready for the choir audition tomorrow?” Dakshima asked.

“What?” I exclaimed. “Oh, I’m not going to that.”

“Yeah, you are. Didn’t you read the letter? The head’s making the whole school audition so we can get a choir together for some competition, I’m not sure what it’s for, but it should be a laugh. Everyone has to go and sing for Mr Petrelli tomorrow lunchtime. I want to get into the choir, but don’t worry if you don’t. All you have to do is sing real bad and then you won’t get picked.”

“Singing badly isn’t a problem,” I said heavily.

I really didn’t want to go to any kind of audition ever again, not even one I wouldn’t get picked for. Because even though I knew I didn’t want to be in the choir and that I wasn’t good enough to be in it, the thought of not being picked made me feel sick inside. And it was wanting never to feel like that again that made me leave stage school.

But it seemed my old life kept on finding me, even if it was only trying out for the school choir. I’d just have to be as bad as I could possibly be. And I am good at that. It’s one of my best things.

Chapter Three (#ulink_c3aee84e-a677-58e7-add3-6a58a5b164de)

“You knew him, didn’t you?” Adele said, thrusting her copy of Hiya! Bye-a! under my nose as we queued up outside the hall. “Didn’t he chuck you?”

I took the magazine out of her hand and read the part about Danny Harvey and Mick Caruso.

“Yes,” I said. “I went out with Danny for a bit and then he dumped me for another girl.”

“Why did he chuck you?” Adele demanded.

I was learning that although Adele always talked as if she was about to punch you in the face, that in itself didn’t necessarily mean that she would. And while she hadn’t formally withdrawn her threat to “get me”, she hadn’t actually got me yet either. I was hoping that Dakshima was right and that she wasn’t nearly as scary as she seemed. One thing you couldn’t comfortably say to Adele, though, was mind your own business.

“Because he liked the other girl more than me, I suppose,” I said with a shrug.

“Prettier than you?” Adele demanded.

I nodded. “Probably.”

“Stupid cow,” Adele said, and I wasn’t sure if she was talking about me or Melody. I read further down the page, about the auditions that Anne-Marie and Nydia had mentioned. For a split second the thought of trying out for the show made me feel excited inside – and then I read the bit about the choir competition. My stomach dropped ten floors into my toes.

“That’s mine,” Adele said, snatching the magazine back out of my hands.