Fan Fiction

Every road and bus leading to Izod Center in East Rutherford, NJ, was completely mobbed. There were no subways from Manhattan, where Rachel and her Dad’s were staying at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. The day before, they took the bus to the Center to get Rachel registered and get her a wristband. That night, they saw Grease and walked past all the marquis in front of the theaters. Rachel was in her glory! She felt so at home on the Great White Way!

While walking around, her Dad’s got SO lucky! They they scored center orchestra seats for Wicked, but it meant they wouldn’t go to the first day of try-outs with Rachel.

Her Dads were so apologetic –Rachel told them not to worry – they should go to the show. She never would have thought twice in their shoes. Besides, they had tickets to see Wicked the next night, so it wasn’t like she, herself, would have to miss it! Rachel was delighted to plug in her ear buds and let her mind wander as she looked dreamily out the windows of the bus. Her dreams were coming true. She was staying in the theater district and trying out for American Idol! Well, Idol wasn’t all that exciting except that it would help her achieve her true dream – getting to Broadway.

Her bus from Port Authority for what should have been a short hop to East Rutherford was caught up in immense traffic – again. Tens of thousands of American Idol fans were descending upon East Rutherford, NJ!

When Rachel arrived, she headed to registration. There were twelve tables, each with two producers behind them. The tables were separated by small black curtains. At last, the auditions began. Rachel watched and waited as each section was called. The contestants approached the audition tables in groups of four. Each person auditioning sang for between 10-15 seconds then they were sent back in line. The producers would talk and then call the four people forward. Rachel notice that more often than not, the contestant were sent to attendants who were ready to cut off their wristbands and throw them in the trash. It was harsh! But Rachel sat up straight and pushed her chest out. Each one who was sent home was one less obstacle in her path to Broadway.

While waiting for her turn to be called down, the producers of American Idol would prompt the contests to yell “Welcome to New Jersey” and “AMERICAN IDOL” and other bits that Rachel knew would be cut into the show when it aired.

At one point, one of the producers honed in on Rachel and told her what he wanted her to say. Rachel watched for hand, and when the finger pointed at her, she looked dead square in the camera, smiled that big beautiful smile and said, “I AM THE NEXT AMERICAN IDOL!”

Rachel was in the third to last section to audition, probably in the last 500 hundred of 10,000 people. She was anxious. That damned late bus had made her so late for registration!  Finally it was her turn to walk down from the balcony to the stadium floor.

Rachel’s group of four walked up to the judges, and of course, Rachel volunteered to go first. She told them her name and what she was going to sing.

Rachel belted out “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina.” The producers all stared at her. No one stopped her. They didn’t look at each other… none of them spoke, none of them moved until Rachel finished.

She opened her eyes when she finished the last note. She saw 4 blank faces staring back at her. There was dead silence.

How could she be this wrong? They hated her! The smile started to melt off Rachel’s face, and she was gulping a big breath of air, preparing to defend herself and ask for a second chance.

“That was god damned AMAZING!” judge 2 slammed the table with his open hand. “I’m talking flat out god damned OUT OF THIS WORLD.”

The noise began. Dead silence turned into huge noise. The judges were so animated, each talking over the other, each talking to each other, spinning in their chairs, looking back to Rachel then each other.

The rest of her group was a blur. She didn’t even remember the others singings.

The judges called Rachel’s group to their booth. They said to us all…”Guys, this is American Idol 10. That 10 on this paper means a lot to me. It means that we’re out to find an eighth superstar. We need to find someone who can make people forget all about American Idols 1-9. Ultimately, we need someone who could be selling records off the shelves next week and be singing duets with Carrie Underwood. At this point, we are only asking one of you to move on towards to that dream. Rachel, congratulations. The rest of you – work on your voices and consider trying out again next year.”

For the first time, Rachel turned and looked at the other contestants. Their dreams were destroyed. Some had tears; all had slumped shoulders. One started begging. Eventually, they all slowly walked away.

Rachel took her ticket, and thanked the judges, who were gushing compliment at her. Rachel snapped back to it and got back in STAR mode. She smiled big, told them she’ll make them proud – and that she’d gladly have Carrie Underwood sing back up for HER. The judges laughed, and Rachel was on her way.

To be continued…