Everyone having sex is at least 18. This is a work of fiction. I made this all up, you can check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is, a story. The TV talent contest is fictional, although it's modeled after one of the real shows. Special thanks to goducks111 for his help.
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Chapter 4 -- Auditions
Because I sent in a video of me singing, my first audition will be on TV in front of a huge live audience and four judges. All four sisters, mom, Grandma, Uncle Vito, Max, and Uncle Bennie, all show up. Only Sophia and Uncle Vito are allowed with me. Everyone else is in a chair somewhere. My uncles are packing, and that causes an issue with security. They have the proper papers, and the Police Department behind them, so it's ok.
I had to be there at 7:00 AM, while the show starts at 8:00 AM. They have enormous rooms for us to sit in and talk to others. I met some very nice ladies from Canada. Sophia was sweet; she never said a word. It's amazing at how long the auditions go on for. Slowly, the people are filtering out, so that only a few of us are left.
It's also amazing how few acts get through. On TV, you don't see many fails, at the auditions, most of them are fails. At last, I'm standing by the doors, there is nobody left to call other than me. The lady smiles when I'm standing at the door.
She asks with a smile, "Marco?"
I reply with my own smile, "Yes, ma'am."
The lady says, "Follow me. This is the Ready Room. Do all your last-minute prep work, sing scales, whatever. You're up soon. I will come to get you when you're next. GOOD LUCK!"
I'm nervous, I do a few scales to calm down. My hands are shaking. Sophia stands in front of me, I stop. What does she want?
She hugs me hard, and then says with tears in her eyes, "I'm so proud of you no matter what happens. I know you'll impress them, but either way, you're ok in my book, kid."
That sounds like a famous movie line.
The door opens, and the lady grabs my hand, then my arm, and we weave through a lot of production equipment. We end up on the edge of the stage as four loud horns go off. I can hear the judges just ripping his performance apart. The guy comes off the stage with his head hung low. He cries right into his mother's arms.
A mic is placed in my hands, the woman kisses me on the cheek, smiles, and then she says, "Good luck, kid."
The theatre is impressive to look at. It's dark, but some lower lights reveal the gold and bright red painted architecture that makes the building special. Even the carpeting seems very expensive. I'm breathing too fast, so I try to calm down. It's a long walk to the center star in the stage, and there are a million bright, hot lights shining down on me. I'm way overdressed for this.
Once at the star I get the standard questions, name, where I'm from, how old I am, and what will I be singing. I answer each question with truthful answers.
Just as my music ques up, one of the lights above crashes to the stage and breaks into a million pieces. That was ok, no big deal. However, the lightbulb made a loud pop, and that sounded way too close to a gunshot. I freak out. I mean, I lost it completely. There is no logical thinking, survival instincts take over, and I run to the edge of the stage. Once there, I wrap a curtain around me, and place my hands over my head, in a defensive position.
There is some screaming, and I hear a guy near me say, I guess into a radio, "No, he's here, in the curtains, balled up in a defensive position, crying. What do I do?"
I hear Sophia shouting, "Let me go, I can help him!"
Both female judges shoot up out of their seats and run to me. Why would they do that? I didn't even think of it, but they have mics on. Everyone can hear our conversation. Oh yes, this is going to be embarrassing. At least at this point, I don't know it.
They both kneel on the floor and pull away the curtain.
I scream, "Don't hurt me!"
They both give me a big "Awwwwww."
The younger judge pulls me to her and presses her nice sized breasts into me.
The older lady asks very tenderly, like she cared, "Baby, tell me what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
I'm sniffing, the crying has almost stopped, "I'm sorry." I pause. "My father, three brothers and two uncles have been killed by handguns. When I heard the pop, it sounded like a gun, and ... oh geez, I freaked. I'm sorry. Those emotions hurt so much still. I miss my dad." I start to cry again.
The lady is all too willing to hold me and let me cry.
I tell her, "I guess I wasted my time. Sorry. It's ok, I'll try out next year. It's been a long day."
I hear a single voice of defiance shout out way above the other, "LET HIM SING!"
Then it quickly becomes a chant. I know the first voice was Grandma.
Together, the two ladies help me up, and then say, "I don't think any of us have a choice."
They run back to the judge's table, I rub my eyes on my sleeve, and then I walk back out onto the stage to a huge ovation.
Without them asking, "I'm Marco Scallini, I grew up here in New York, and I'm eighteen.
The younger woman says to me, "The stage is yours."
I take a deep breath to relax and then wink at the sound guy. I sing a very good rendition of Ave Maria that would have made my singing coach proud. However, one minute in, and one of the male judges puts up his hand, and they stop my music. Holy shit, I'm terrible, they hate me, my career is over.
The guy asks me, "You have a playlist here of eight songs, and only one is opera. Do you like singing that style?"
I have to be careful, "My grandmother loves the opera, we're an Italian family, what can I say? My singing coach suggested it, saying it shows off my voice."
He smiles at me, "Soundman, play track #4 for us, please. I think this will work better."
I nod my head, yes. The guitar sounds start for Eric Clapton's "Tears in Heaven."
