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THE AMERICAN DREAM |
Ryan's Rockin' Rap (Chapter 2) |
Okay, it won't be very cool to pass out. Just get through this. Oh, God, how did I let Seth get me into this?
Ryan had to remind himself to keep breathing as he made his way down the corridor. He'd been through worse than this. Sure, much worse. How many times had he been punched in the face since moving to Newport? That was worse, wasn't it? Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
He stopped cold at the edge of the room. The usher stared down at him, pointing out the obvious. "Right through here, please."
"Yeah, just give me a minute." Or an hour or two would be fine.
"Well, is he coming in or not?"
The very British sounding voice was tinged with barely restrained annoyance. Not a good idea to annoy the judges before he even started, he figured. Okay, he could do this.
With confidence he didn't feel, he bounded into the room with what he hoped passed for a smile. "Hi. Sorry about that. Just needed a second."
"That's all right." Simon no longer sounded peeved but he seemed to be scrutinizing him through slightly narrowed eyes. "Name, please."
"Ryan."
"And where are you from?"
"New...Chino." At the last second, he remembered Marissa's parting words. He still had no idea behind the reasoning but at this point, he'd take any advice he could get.
Simon looked over at Randy, who simply shrugged back. Apparently, neither judge had heard of the fictitious town. Simon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "Why are you here, Ryan?"
The question took him aback. "Um, a friend kind of dragged me into it."
"Dragged you into it? Do you not want to be here, then?"
"Yes...I mean, no!" Damn the British for their fondness of asking questions in the negative form. It was confusing him.
The testiness was creeping back into Simon's voice. "Well, which is it?"
"Yes, I want to be here."
"Good. So what are you going to sing for us?"
"Something a little different. 'Lose Yourself'.
Randy's eyebrows soared above his glasses. "Rap?" Sitting back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. "This should be interesting. Okay, go for it."
Closing his eyes briefly, Ryan stood with feet apart and arms at his sides. After a moment's pause, his chin lifted and one hand came up, gripping an imaginary microphone. With the attitude that he had nothing to lose, he threw himself into the moment, working his stage from left to right with a rockin' rhythm. He ended with a low bow, arms outstretched, panting from the exertion.
The sudden burst of applause caught him by surprise and as he slowly came upright, he saw Paula on her feet, clapping like mad. Unfortunately, the other two judges remained slumped in their seats, clearly unimpressed.
Paula sat back down. "What's the matter with you two? That was fantastic!"
"Hmmm," was Randy's only response. But after a brief shake of his head, he gave Ryan a friendly smile. "What's up, dog?"
Dog? Who did this guy think he was? Ryan had only seen the show a couple of times while flipping through the channels, but he then recalled Seth saying something about one of the judges calling everyone 'dog'. This must be the guy. "I'm okay."
"So how do you think you did?"
"Uh, I think I was pretty good. To be honest, I haven't practiced much. That was probably the best I've ever done."
"Well, kudos to you for giving this a shot. It was a brave choice. But I just wasn't feelin' it, dude. Just didn't do it for me." Randy turned to his left, where Paula was showing her even, white teeth. "But it looks like someone was diggin' it."
The female judge showered him with such a glittering smile, he couldn't help but return it. "I loved it, Ryan. You had great rhythm and so much energy. I have to admit, I had my doubts about your choice but you won me over. I'm a yes."
Whoa, did he actually have a shot at this? His gaze flickered to the final judge but the man was as easy to read as a rock. However, he wasn't left in suspense for very long.
Simon's words were clipped and terse. "I didn't like it."
"Why not?" Paula snapped.
"If you'd let me finish, I'll tell you." He leaned forward, placing elbows on the table and steepling his fingers together. "You've got the rhythm and the energy. I'll give you that much. What you haven't got is the 'it' factor."
"Are you crazy?" Paula cut in once again. "Just look at the boy. He's got plenty of 'it'."
"Not in my book. Besides, he looks too much like Seacrest."
Paula clucked her tongue in derision. "No he doesn't. A young Russell Crowe, maybe. But not Seacrest. What do you think, Randy?"
Ryan's bewildered gaze bounced between the judges as they dissected his looks. He felt like he'd already left the room.
"A young Russell Crowe," Randy repeated softly. "Yeah, I can see that."
Simon turned to them in apparent disbelief. "You really can't see it? He's the spitting image of him!"
Ryan slowly began backing out of the room. "So, I'll just be going, then."
"I'm so sorry, Ryan. Take care," Paula called after him.
With great relief, he emerged into the hum of the waiting room, no ticket in hand. Marissa gave him a brief hug and Seth clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, does anyone know who Seacrest is?" he asked.
Summer was the first to respond. "Yeah, he's the host of the show. Why?"
"Oh, no reason. You're up next, aren't you?"
She squared her shoulders bravely. "Yup. Wish me luck guys."
They all voiced their good wishes, including Seth. She turned to him and grabbed hold of his collar, practically yanking his head to her level. "Ow, Summer!" he protested, bending down at an awkward angle. "Are you trying to give me whiplash or something?"
"Or something, all right. I want a proper good luck kiss."
"Okay, okay, you don't have to get violent..." His words were smothered into a wet, prolonged kiss.
Ryan began to laugh as Summer ended the kiss and released her prey. Meeting Seth's kill look, he quickly covered up with a cough.
"Okay, I'm ready."
With that announcement, Summer marched through the open doors.
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