Ruby Parker: Musical Star
Rowan Coleman
Multii-talented teen starlet Ruby Parker makes her debut in the theatre – but how will she cope with the demands of being in a musical?Still reeling from her less-than-perfect Hollywood debut, Ruby Parker has left the Sylvia LIghthouse Academy and is looking forward to an ordinary life at an everyday school with no drama attached. Imagine her horror, then, when she discovers that she has to audition for the school choir - and gets chosen!Even worse, she discovers that the school choir is entering the national competition to appear as the chorus for a new musical to be broadcast on live TV. Not only that, but the musical was created by arch-rival Jade Caruso’s rock star dad, who is auditioning for the lead – alongside Ruby’s ex-boyfriend Danny Harvey!Ruby Parker may think she’s given up on showbiz , but one thing is certain – it hasn’t given up on her!
Ruby Parker Musical Star
Rowan Goleman
For Lily
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u693d4983-0875-5a31-b393-fe88f277ee2d)
Title Page (#u44eea1f8-e547-54e7-aa35-41c97a77a40e)
Dedication (#u0292c36f-63fc-53ef-af9d-fc97a473aa20)
HIYA! BYE-A! (#ud176679a-e76d-5788-8b14-ac7588ccabb0)
Chapter One (#u361088fa-d815-5a77-a93f-405af738b448)
Chapter Two (#u47f368e4-2e9b-5aa6-b589-6bdd0fad5a33)
Chapter Three (#uc60df63b-e481-5014-a25b-3ef13709bb6f)
Chapter Four (#ufe82203e-725b-5eea-9d67-702bc5eacdb5)
Chapter Five (#u7573ea86-b5b3-593f-a4f7-29509fba1f52)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by Rowan Coleman (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
HIYA! BYE-A! (#ulink_70473bb1-fe37-5dc1-83d6-4b2eeef45c1b)
SHHHH!
Confidential
SPRING FEVER
A GO-GO!
We hardly know where to put ourselves in the Hiya! Bye-a! office this week, so excited are we by all the news and gossip that’s been landing on our desks.
What could be more thrilling than the dramatic conclusion to Kensington Heights’ character Marcus Ridley’s rollercoaster of a storyline? Actor Danny Harvey must surely be hoping to cash in this award season after a spectacular climax involving an explosion, a train crash and a priceless Ming vase. We don’t give away secrets here in the Confidential column, so you’ll just have to watch the show to see what happens – but it’s pretty incredible. Is Danny leaving the show for good, we hear you cry? Not according to his people, who assure us the talented youngster is just taking a break to concentrate on his schoolwork and some other projects…
MICK CARUSO
After Danny’s hit single, is it possible that one of those projects could be the exciting one-off world premiere performance of a new musical by rock legend Mick Caruso?
Mick has been a global household name almost since before rock and roll was invented, and we all know and love classic tracks like Rock Me This Christmas and Rock Generation. Now Mick is putting together a new musical for young people to perform in, in schools and colleges across the land. Spotlight! The Musical. revolves around a hopeful young actress at a tough stage school and features some of the greatest hit songs of his career. Excited? We know we are – but wait there’s more…
The first ever performance of the musical will take place on primetime television in front of millions of viewers. And that’s not all! Televised open auditions for the lead roles and a special schools’ choir competition start around the country next week. If you are under sixteen and a star in the making, or you know anyone who is, then you can find out more about the auditions on
hiyabyea.com/spotlight…
HOLLYWOOD HIGH
HUNTER BLAKE
One fledgling star who’s taking UK TV by storm is the lead in the hit US imported show Hollywood High.Hunter Blake is rumoured to be visiting these isles again in the next few weeks to investigate the possibility of making a film about the young Robin Hood, along with Hollywood golden girl Imogene Grant. We’ll keep you posted on any more details that come to us at Confidential because we know that’s one movie we want to target!
Chapter One (#ulink_984770ed-84a9-5863-a360-9f6af85f0874)
I’m normal now. Ruby Parker, girl – that’s me. Not an audition in sight, not a line to learn or an interview to do, not a single mention in Hiya! Bye-a! for weeks. I haven’t even had any fan mail for over a month. I used to be Ruby Parker, soap star and then for a while I was Ruby Parker, film star. For the briefest moment I was Ruby Parker, Hollywood star – but now I’m none of those things. ’m just Ruby Parker, who goes to an ordinary school and hangs out with ordinary kids.
It did take a bit of getting used to.
When I got back from Hollywood I think I was in shock. I don’t really know what being in shock is, but if it means feeling numb from the inside out, exhausted and frightened all at once, then I was in it. My life had changed completely in the few weeks I was in America and I wasn’t really prepared for how it was going to make me feel. But I decided to leave Sylvia Lighthouse’s Academy for the Performing Arts and give up acting for good, and I meant it. It took a while to persuade mum and dad to support me, and Nydia and Anne-Marie still can’t believe that I decided to come to a new school and leave them behind, but I did it. I gave up my dream because being in Hollywood taught me two things.
First of all it taught me that having a dream isn’t enough to make it come true. Wanting fame and fortune so badly that you feel twisted up inside doesn’t mean you deserve to get it, because you only deserve your dream if you’ve got the talent to make it happen. And secondly it told me about as clearly as possible that I do not have any talent. At least, not nearly enough to deserve my dream.
And that’s why I started at Highgate Comprehensive School three weeks ago, a school that doesn’t even have a drama society, let alone drama lessons. The nearest thing they have to anything theatrical is a choir and I hear even that is terrible. It’s a school where I can feel safe, which is funny really because on my very first day I discovered that someone here is really quite keen to beat me up.
It happened in the first minute of the first hour of my first day. I made mum drop me off round the corner, took a breath and marched the last few metres through the school gate on my own. I thought I was prepared.
I was prepared for the other kids to be a bit curious, to ask me questions about being on the telly and in a movie with famous actors like Imogene Grant or Sean Rivers. I was prepared for the fact that some kids would think I was posh and stuck up because I used to go to Sylvia Lighthouse’s Academy. But I wasn’t prepared for the threats of violence. Yes, that did throw me a bit.
“Are you Ruby Parker?” asked a tall girl, who appeared to be waiting for me.
This is nice, I thought. A welcoming committee. “I am,” I said with a smile, sticking out my hand. “Pleased to meet you!”
“I hate you,” the girl said. Well, more like growled.
I blinked at her. She had a sort of solid-looking body that would probably hurt you if you ran into it. As I was planning to run in the opposite direction, I hoped that wouldn’t be a problem.
“Really?” I asked her, with a grimace. “Was it the film? I know, I was terrible wasn’t I? That’s why I’ve given up acting, I just want to be normal now, like…”
The girl’s face didn’t move. “I just hate you,” she said, poking me in the shoulder with the tip of one long finger. “And I’m going to get you.” Then she turned on her heel, and stormed off.
I stood there staring after her, suddenly not sure that I could get my feet to go into Highgate Comprehensive School after all and wondering about the possibilities of home-schooling, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“That’s just Adele.” I jumped at the sound of a new voice and a saw another girl standing next to me. “You’re Ruby Parker. I’ve seen you on the telly,” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was friendly or not. “I’m Dakshima, I’m in your class. Adele tries to pick on everyone, but if you show her you’re not scared you’ll be fine. She doesn’t mean it really. It’s just her thing, being scary.”
I stood there stock still as Dakshima began to walk off again. After a few steps she paused and glanced back over her shoulder at me. She heaved a sigh and asked, “Do you want to come in with me?”
“If you don’t mind,” I said, sounding more than a bit pathetic.
“Come on then,” Dakshima said, turning and marching off ahead of me. “I haven’t got all day.”
I followed Dakshima, telling myself that I was doing the right thing, but I still felt sick with nerves and worried about making new friends. After all, I thought I’d made friends with Adrienne Charles at Beaumont High, my school in Hollywood, but she turned out to be my worst enemy and made my life a misery while I was there.
Dakshima doesn’t seem to mind me hanging out with her though. I have lunch with her and her friends, Talitha and Hannah, almost every day, and last week she even called me Rubes. It took a while for people to forget that I am Ruby Parker off the telly, but now I’m old news, like last month’s copy of Hiya! Bye-a!, and the more they forget who I used to be, the easier it is to fit in. Anyway, if you take away the whole fame thing then I really am a very average girl.
The teachers here are very different from the ones at the Academy, but they are mostly OK. I even like the schoolwork. Honestly I do, because when I’m immersed in biology or maths or something that would usually make me tear my hair out with boredom, then I’m not thinking about the past. I’m not thinking about Danny Harvey chucking me for new girl Melody. I’m not thinking about the horrible reviews I got in Hollywood, detailing just how bad an actor I am. And most importantly, I’m not thinking about my dream, or the fact that at almost fourteen-years-old, mine is already so over.
Come and audition for the school choir!
Lunchtime tomorrow in the main hall. Enthusiasm more important than talent. Find out that singing
CAN be fun!
Be there or Be square.
Mr G. Petrelli, Music Teacher.
NB: ATTENDANCE IS COMPULSORY
BY ORDER OF THE HEAD.
Chapter Two (#ulink_f6f6b9d0-e64a-546a-8bce-f6bb76977880)
“So you haven’t heard from Hunter once?” Anne-Marie asked me as I screwed up the handout that was in my school bag and dropped it into the paper bin. (I have two bins now, one for paper and one for rubbish I can’t recycle. Me and mum are saving the environment; it’s our new thing we do together since I ran away from Hollywood and nearly scared her to death.)
I shook my head, “Nope,” I said. “Not even a text.”
“But after you got back from Hollywood he came all the way to London just to kiss you at the Valentine’s disco!” Nydia exclaimed. “I thought he really liked you.”
“He didn’t come all this way just to kiss me,” I said, feeling a little blush as I remembered the moment. “He came over to do publicity for Hollywood High and he might not have even come to the dance at all if you two hadn’t got in touch with him. The whole kissing me thing was sort of an accident. It’s not as if it we were meant to be or anything.”
To be honest, I was more sad about not hearing from Hunter again after the Valentine disco than I let on. OK, I told him I didn’t want to be his girlfriend, but I had thought he might not take it quite so literally. We had become good friends while I was at Beaumont High and we’d been through a lot together in Hollywood. But I hadn’t even had an e-mail from him, even though I’d sent him one when I found out that The Lost Treasure of King Arthur was the biggest grossing foreign language film in Japanese history.
“It’s just as well anyway,” I said casually. “Going out with yet another international teen megastar would not have fitted into my new life at all. I have a lot of homework these days.”
“About that,” Anne-Marie said, opening my wardrobe and going through my things with her usual wrinkled nose. “Are you still sure about leaving the Academy? Hasn’t three weeks with the public been enough to convince you to come back?”
I shook my head and laughed. Anne-Marie called everyone who wasn’t an actor/singer/model “the public”. She couldn’t understand how anybody would be happy just being an anonymous person just living an ordinary life.
“I like my school,” I told her. “It turns out I’m quite good at biology and I had a careers talk last week. I think I’m going to be a vet.”
“A vet!” Nydia shrieked. “I’m sorry, Ruby, I just can’t see it. You faint at the sight of blood.”
“Being a vet is not all blood,” I said, annoyed that I hadn’t spotted the rather obvious flaw in my plan.
“No, there’s vomit and pus too, I believe,” Anne-Marie said, laughing. “Ruby Parker, vet. Yeah, right.”
“This is so wrong,” Nydia said quite crossly. “You are meant to act!”
Of my two best friends, Nydia was the one who understood least why I had left school. And I knew why. We started at the academy together when we were little girls and had been together almost every day since. We were like twins, except we’re not. We fall out like friends do and fight sometimes, but in the end we have always been there for each other. When my mum and dad split up it was Nydia who helped take my mind off it. And when she fainted and hurt herself because of a stupid diet she was on, it was me who helped her get back to normal and feel better about herself again. When I left, she thought I was leaving her too and, worse, that I was just giving up. An Academy pupil never gives up. It’s actually in the rules.
“It’s not wrong because I’m happy, Nyds,” I told her. “Nothing to worry about, no auditions or interviews. It’s great, just like Sean says.”
“Except Sean hasn’t given up forever ever; he’s taking a break while he learns his craft,” Anne-Marie reminded me as she held one of my tops up against her. I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure that was quite Sean’s view of things. Once Hollywood’s highest earning child star, Sean had given it all up at the age of fifteen to come and live in England with his long lost mum, go to school at the Academy and be Anne-Marie’s boyfriend. He loved acting and singing, but he hated celebrity, especially as his fame and money-mad father had worked him so hard that his life had been miserable. Just before I started at Highgate Comp, he told me he understood exactly why I was doing this.
“I think it’s pretty radical,” he’d said. “Giving up acting would be like giving up breathing for me, but it if makes you feel better then it’s got to be right.”
“Can you tell Anne-Marie that?” I’d laughed. “She thinks I’m crazy!”
“She thinks I’m crazy.” Sean grinned. “So it probably won’t make any difference.”
I was fairly sure that Sean thought he’d give up fame forever, but Anne-Marie didn’t really get that yet.
“The thing is, you’ve got proper talent,” Anne-Marie said, exasperated. “You deserve all the fame and the fortune because you’ve worked for it. Not like Jade Caruso – what’s she ever done, and she gets her very own musical on TV?”
“What are you on about?” I asked. One thing I definitely didn’t miss about the Academy was Jade, her catty sneer and her permanently arched eyebrows, always on red alert to make a mean remark.
“Haven’t you heard?” Nydia exclaimed. “Jade’s dad, Mick Caruso, has written a musical. At least, it’s based around all of his hit songs from the last million years or something. He’s calling it Spotlight and it’s set – wait for it – in a stage school.”
“He’s got together with this writer bloke and they made the songs into a story,” Anne-Marie added. “I think it’s supposed to be put on in schools and things all over the country, but to launch it he’s doing this one-off live TV performance on the BBC for charity.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a bit confused. “And?”
“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.
“Is that what we’re doing?” I asked her.
Adele frowned at the magazine and then at me. “What?”
“Is that why we have to sing for Mr Petrelli? So that he can get a choir together to enter this competition?”
“That’s right. I told you it was a schools competition,” Dakshima said, appearing at my shoulder. “Thanks for saving me a space in the queue, by the way.” She winked at the girls she had just pushed in front of, who grumbled but didn’t say anything because everyone liked Dakshima.
“I’m not going,” I said, picking up my bag.
“Hey, hang on,” Dakshima said. “You can’t just leave. Mr Petrelli’s doing a register for every year group. If you don’t sing with us now, he’ll only make you go back again and sing on your own. What’s your problem, anyway?”
“Nothing, there is no problem, but this is a waste of time. He won’t want me in his choir and I just…I don’t want to be involved with this. I’ve given it up. I left stage school, turned down film roles in Japan and everything. I don’t want to act any more or sing or do any kind of audition. I want to do biology and show an interest in fractions!”
Dakshima frowned at me and tutted, and I worried that I’d blown our fledgling friendship already.
“It’s only singing in the school hall, not The X Factor. If you’re no good, he’ll tap you on the shoulder and you can go, and no one will even care.”
“That’s my point!” I tried to explain. “I don’t want to get tapped on the shoulder any more. That’s why I left the Academy, because I couldn’t take getting tapped on shoulders any more.”
“What are you on about?” Dakshima asked me, but before I could answer, the hall doors burst open and Mr Petrelli appeared, armed with a clipboard and a determined look. It was too late to escape.
“Right, Year 9, it’s your turn now, and let’s hope you’ve got more to offer than Years 10 and 11. At this rate I’ll be entering a choir with only four members and we’ll never get our hands on the money.”
“Are you religious, sir?” Dakshima said as she walked past him into the hall.
“Why do you ask, Dakshima?
“Because you must be hoping for a miracle!” Dakshima said, making the others giggle.
I didn’t laugh because my stomach was in knots and I felt like butterflies had moved into my chest. I felt exactly the same as I had the time I auditioned for Oscar-winning director Art Dubrovnik and that day I threw up on my feet. This was only a school choir, a bad school choir at that, and I still felt the same. What I didn’t understand was why.
As Mr Petrelli called the register, I looked longingly at the door and wished I could escape.
“OK,” Mr Petrelli called from the stage. We all stood in haphazard lines in front of him, the boys messing around at the back and the girls chatting. Some things never change no matter what type of school you go to. “CAN I HAVE SOME QUIET, PLEASE?” he yelled.
The talking lowered to a murmur and Mr Petrelli switched on an overhead projector. A set of words flashed up on the screen at a slight angle. I recognised them.
“This is how it’s going to work,” said Mr Petrelli. “If I tap you on the shoulder, you have to go. If I don’t, you stay – and don’t sneak off because I will hunt you down and I will make you sing.” There was a collective groan. “Now, I thought I’d give you all a song you know so I’ve picked last year’s dreadful Christmas number one, You Take Me To (Kensington Heights).”
“Don’t make us sing that rubbish,” one of the boys called out.
“That’s Ruby Parker’s boyfriend’s song,” Adele told everyone at the top of her voice. “Except he chucked her!”
For a second, the whole of Year 9 looked at me. I dropped my chin on to my chest and prayed for a hole to appear in the floor, but God obviously wasn’t listening.
“Well then, Ruby, I expect you to be the best,” Mr Petrelli said. He pressed play on his CD player and the opening bars to Danny’s number one song filled the hall.
“Two, three, four!” Mr Petrelli yelled, waving a baton at us like somehow it was going to make us sing better.
“Before I met you, I was on a dark and dusty shelf.
Oh and I hated myself
Cos I was all alone…“
The whole of Year 9 sang more or less in unison.
“I can’t believe I actually have to do this,” I complained to Dakshima over the singing, as Mr Petrelli walked long the row in front of us, tapping shoulders as he went. “I thought I had been humiliated about as much as possible for a girl of my age – but apparently not.”
“Oh, chill,” Dakshima said. “It’s only a bit of singing, Ruby, not the end of the world.”
It was clear if I was going to be friends with Dakshima then I was going to have to tone down the drama queen thing. But that was one of the things I liked best about her. She made me be me, and not some acted out version of the me I thought I should be to impress other people. Dakshima winked at me and just as Mr Petrelli started to walk down our row and I joined in with the singing. After all, I decided, I might as well get it over with as quickly as I could.
“And now, your love lifts me,
So high and so easily.
And I know I’ll love you
With all of my might,
Because you
Take me to –
Kensington Heights!“
As I sang I watched Mr Petrelli approaching, tapping shoulder after shoulder as he went. Only two other people from our row were still standing by the time he got to me and Dakshima, and Adele wasn’t one of them.
“This is a fix,” she said angrily as she marched off.
It seemed like Mr Petrelli stood there for ages, torturing me as he listened to me trying to sing my ex-boyfriend’s number one single, and it felt like he was never going to tap me on the shoulder. When he nodded and moved on to Dakshima I realised why.
I, me – Ruby who can’t really sing, had somehow made it into the choir without even trying. It was a nightmare!
I stared at Dakshima as he nodded at her too and moved on.
She grinned at me still, singing along to the tune, but inserting her own words now.
“This is going to be so cool,” she sang. “We’ll get totally loads of time off of school rehearsing for the competition.“
“I don’t want to be in the choir,” I sang back. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.“
“Don’t sweat it, Ruby,” Dakshima replied tunefully, making me realise that she actually did have a very nice voice. “There’s no way Highgate Comp will ever get past the first round!“
As she finished on the last note of the song with a flourish, I looked around at the few people from our year group that remained. I couldn’t believe I was one of them.
“Right, children,” Mr Petrelli said, pushing the stop button on his CD player. “Thank you for joining the choir. Rehearsals are every lunchtime and after school starting tomorrow. You can bring a sandwich with you, OK? Now get to class.”
“Oh what?” Dakshima groaned. “What about all the time off, sir?
“This isn’t a game to get you out of your school work, Dakshima,” Mr Petrelli told her seriously. “This school is desperate for a new music and drama lab, and winning that prize money is the only way we can ever afford it.”
“Excuse me, sir,” I said stopping in front of him. “Thank you for picking me to be in the choir, but I don’t think you could have really heard my voice. I’m not a singer, sir.”
Mr Petrelli looked at me with round black eyes that made me feel a little bit like running away. “If I didn’t tap you on the shoulder, then you are a singer,” he said. “I am never wrong.”
“But at the Academy,” I pressed on. “That’s Sylvia Lighthouse’s Academy for the Performing Arts, I didn’t do any singing. I did acting, that was all, and I wasn’t even very good at that as it happens.”
“Look, Ruby,” Mr Petrelli sounded impatient. “Perhaps your last school was filled with budding tenors and sopranos, although not if that dreadful single your friend produced is anything to go by. But in this school your voice is in the top ten per cent. Yes, it needs some work, your tuning is off and you sing like a mouse – but you are the best of a bad lot and you are in the choir.”
“The thing is,” I tried to explain, “I’ve given up show business, so thanks for the offer but…”
“Ruby,” Mr Petrelli said firmly, “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. At this school a lot of kids would do anything to have a tenth of what you’ve just thrown away. And as preposterous as it seems right now, this choir is the nearest thing we’ve got to making that happen. As long as you can carry a tune, you are in it. Understood?”
“Understood, sir,” I said, in a small voice. For a music teacher Mr Petrelli could be quite scary, although no where near Sylvia Lighthouse levels.
“Good. Get along to class then,” Mr Petrelli told me. “You’ll be late for biology.”
Adele was waiting for me when I came out of the hall. The corridors were empty except for her. She was standing there, her arms crossed, her brow pulled together in the middle.
“Hi,” I said hesitantly.
“You got picked for the choir,” she said accusingly.
“Yes…”
“I didn’t get picked,” she growled. I bit my lip. At the very least, Adele and I were now going to be several minutes late for biology and I would be getting detained after school. On the bright side, I wouldn’t be able to do detention because Adele would have broken my legs for getting in the school choir I didn’t want to be in and I would be in A&E.
Funny, I thought to myself, life as a normal kid isn’t nearly as uncomplicated asIhoped.
“I wanted to be in the choir.” Adele took two or three menacing steps towards me. I found myself thinking about the letters girls used to write to me when I was in Kensington Heights, telling me about being bullied at school and how awful it was and how every single night they went to bed feeling sick with dread and would find whatever reason they could not to go to school. But although Adele had threatened to get me on my very first day, I hadn’t been nearly as scared of her as I was of Adrienne Charles at Beaumont High in Hollywood. Until now, that is.
“Look,” I said, holding up my hands, “I don’t want to be in the choir, Adele. I’ll get out of it…I’ll fake a sore throat or something – I’m quite good at acting, so I think I can pull it off. Then maybe you’ll get my place.”
“I won’t,” Adele said, her face get redder and redder. “I never get anything. Always last to be picked in netball, I never have a lab partner in biology and now this. I…I’m…gonna…”
I squeezed my bag tightly to my chest and closed my eyes, certain that I was about to find out exactly how much it hurt to be punched.
After a second or two minus any pain, I realised that instead of hitting me, Adele was making a snuffly, gurgling sort of noise. I opened one eye and, unable to believe what I was seeing, I opened the other just to double-check.
Adele was crying.
“Er…” I had no idea how to deal with this. It was like seeing my mum with artificially inflated fish lips in Hollywood – so bizarre I couldn’t quite believe it was real. “Oh dear. Um…don’t cry, Adele, it’s not that bad. I mean, if I’m in the choir then we don’t stand a chance of winning anyway, so you’re not really missing out on anything. Dakshima says we won’t get past the first round.”
“It’s not that,” Adele said, wiping her sleeve under her nose and sniffing.
“Isn’t it?” I asked her.
“I’m never included in anything,” Adele said. “And I actually can sing pretty well – not like those people on The X Factor who think they can sing but can’t. I’m in the choir at church. But when I got in the hall with everybody there I couldn’t do it. I thought if everybody saw me trying they’d think I was even more stupid than they already do and I got all scared and my voice came out all squeaky and off key.”
“You know what a key is?” I asked her, taking a step closer to her. “Cos I don’t.”
“Yes,” Adele said. “But no one at at school knows anything about me really, not even the teachers.”
“Adele, you should ask Mr Petrelli for another audition, just you on your own. Then you wouldn’t have to be so nervous. Trust me, I know what that’s like. Once I threw up on my shoes during an audition.”
“Serious?” Adele asked me. “That’s rank.”
“I know! Look, if you wanted…maybe I could help you? At the Academy we used to do breathing techniques and stuff for when you’re nervous.”
“You’d help me?” Adele asked me. “You, the famous rich kid?”
“I’m not a…” I paused. The fact of the matter was that I had been on TV for years and years, and in one film that a lot of people went to see, even though it was voted one of the top three worst films of the year. And even though I didn’t see a penny of it, apart from my pocket money, the chances were that I did have quite a lot of money in the bank. Compared to a lot of other Highgate comp kids, I was rich.
“Look, I’ve been famous, but I was rubbish at it. And I don’t want to be famous any more. People say things about you and they don’t care how it might make you feel. They think they know what you are like without really knowing you at all.”
“Sounds a lot like school,” Adele said.
“Maybe it is,” I said thoughtfully. “Look, maybe, what with you threatening to get me and everything, I did judge you a little bit. But if you are saying that you are not, after all, a homicidal maniac, then I would be very glad to help you.”
“I wouldn’t have actually ever got you,” Adele said. “I don’t even know why I said it. I was coming over to say hello, but then I thought there’s no way that famous rich kid is ever going to be friends with me and before I knew it I was saying what I said. That’s how everyone expects me to be.”
I smiled tentatively at her and she returned my smile.
“We should get to class,” I said. “We’re definitely going to get killed by Mrs Moreton.”
“No we won’t,” Adele said. “I’ll say I had to take you to the loos because you felt sick, but you’re better now.”
“OK,” I said, looking at Adele’s tear streaked face. “Or we could say you were sick and I was helping you?”
“That would never work,” Adele said, putting her arm heavily around me in preparation for our roles. “No one would ever believe it.”
Dear Ruby
You are invited to Anne-Marie’s
fourteenth birthday party!
When? March 15th
Where? Chance Heights, Highgate, London
Wear? Anything fabulous.
Bring? Presents!
RSVP Anne-Marie
Chapter Four (#ulink_b1a2a0d1-a57f-5145-9b02-b43001ff6a56)
“So who’s coming?” I asked Anne-Marie. Her invitation had arrived in the post just before I was due to leave for school, even though I was going to see her that evening.
“Well, of course I posted the invitations,” she’d explained when I’d phoned her on her mobile to ask her why she hadn’t just given it to me. “It’s so much more glamorous – I didn’t want to hand then out at school like some little kid. This is the dress rehearsal for my sweet sixteen – it’s got to be perfect!”
“But you’ve got another birthday to go before then,” I’d reminded her as I headed for the corner where I was going to meet Dakshima. Today was our first choir rehearsal, one of a handful before the regional finals due to be held in only a few days. It didn’t exactly leave Mr Petrelli much time to hone us into a “well oiled singing machine” as he put it, but he was determined to give it a go.
I hadn’t told Anne-Marie and Nydia about the choir yet. I don’t know why. I suppose that compared to what they were doing, auditioning for the lead roles while I was toiling away in the back row of a third-rate choir, it seemed a bit…well, I’m ashamed to admit, I was embarrassed by it.
“I know I’ve got another birthday to go before then,” Anne-Marie said in my ear, probably while putting her lip gloss on because she sounded as if she was trying to talk without moving her mouth. “But this is the dress rehearsal for the dress rehearsal. Plus this is the first time Daddy has ever let me have a proper party with a DJ and everything. He said as he’s working in LA on my birthday and Mummy will be in Thailand, I could have what ever I wanted, I just had to tell Pilar. I want it to be the best party the Academy has ever seen. Jade might have a rock star father who’ll stage a musical for her to be in, but mine says I can have a Chinese buffet and that’s real class.”
“I’ve always thought so,” I said. “So who’s coming then? You make it sound like you’re inviting the whole school.”
“I am inviting the whole school,” Anne-Marie said. “Oh, and you, of course. I keep forgetting you’ve left. I still think you should come back here, me and Nydia both do. We miss you.”
“You’re even inviting Jade and Menakshi and that lot?” I asked her, ignoring the last bit.
“Yes, I’m especially inviting Jade and Menakshi and that lot,” Anne-Marie told me. “This isn’t about friendship, Ruby, this is about getting as many people as I can to my party. Jade and Menakshi and that lot will come because everybody else is, and everybody else will come because they are. It’s very complicated.”
“Sounds it,” I said, waving at Dakshima as I saw her turn the corner. She nodded at me and then waited, looking in the other direction as if she was keen to be going. “Can I bring Dakshima?” I asked.
“Do you have to?” Anne-Marie sighed heavily. “Only I wasn’t really planning on inviting the public.”
“Annie,” I said, using the nickname that normally only Sean Rivers was allowed to. “Dakshima is the coolest and most popular girl in my year and I want to be friends with her. Inviting her to your party will be a really big step in the right direction. Besides, you might go to a stage school and you might have modelled a bit for H&M, but you are still the public. You haven’t won one of the leads in Spotlight yet, you know, so don’t be such a snob.”
“But I am going to get this part,” Anne-Marie said. “I just know that I am – this is my year, Ruby. I can feel it!”
“OK,” I said. “But don’t the public vote for the ultimate winners?”
“Yes,” Anne-Marie said impatiently, as if the fact was incidental.
“So…” I grinned at Dakshima as I fell into step with her. “Don’t you think you should start being nice to them?”
“Oh,” Anne-Marie said. “Well, yes, you have a point. OK you can bring Dakshima, but tell her she has to wear a dress and she’s not allowed to be rude to anyone.”
“OK then.” I said, grinning. “I will tell her exactly that. See you later.”
“Ciao, Baby!” Anne-Marie said, and was gone.
“So?” Dakshima asked me.
“So,” I replied. “Want to go to a party?”
Dakshima, Adele and I stood outside the music room a good ten minutes before rehearsals were due to start. Mr Petrelli had given everyone a chance to get some food from the canteen, but we didn’t go. Now was Adele’s chance to sing for Mr Petrelli again. I’d told Dakshima all about how Adele wanted another chance to be in the choir and after laughing in my face because she simply didn’t believe me, Dakshima decided she wanted to come along and see if it was really true.
“You didn’t say she was coming,” Adele growled at me as Dakshima and I approached.
“She’s come to support you too,” I said, peering in through the glass door, where Mr Petrelli was scowling at some sheet music. “Now, remember what I told you?”
We had secretly being doing breathing exercises at her house after school for three nights in a row. It was funny, Adele’s family weren’t at all like I expected them to be (frightening) and when she was at home she was almost a completely different person. She laughed and didn’t look so angry all the time. I couldn’t get her to sing for me even though her granny said she had a voice like an angel. Every time I asked her to sing, Adele would blush and tell me she was saving herself for today. It did make me slightly worried that it meant she was like those people on The X Factor after all – the ones whose mums or grannies said they could sing, but then it turned out they’d been lying and a dead cat could carry a tune better. I didn’t say anything about my fears though. I liked smiling Adele; she was much more preferable to scary Adele.
“I remember the exercises,” Adele said, putting her hands flat on her tummy and breathing in and out deeply.
“Go on then,” I said, glancing at my watch. “The others will be here really soon. It’s now or never.”
Adele stared at the door handle that led into the music room as if it might be red hot. “Never,” she said flatly, turning on her heel.
“Told you,” Dakshima said, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Like she can sing.”
“She can!” I said. “Probably.” I reached out and grabbed Adele’s arm quite firmly. Dakshima’s jaw dropped.
“Adele,” I said, keeping my voice steady and calm. “Just go in and give it a go. You know how much you want to be in the choir, but you’ll never be in it if you don’t try.” I glanced at Dakshima. “We’ll come in with you if you like.”
Adele scowled at Dakshima. “You can,” she said, nodding at me. “Not her.”
“Fine by me,” Dakshima said, raising a brow.
“Let’s go then,” I said, still holding her arm. “Now – before you change your mind again.”
Mr Petrelli glanced up at us as we entered. “You’re early, Ruby,” he said, looking back down at the sheet music. “While I commend your eagerness, I’d prefer it if you waited outside until I call you in.” He squinted at Adele over the top of his glasses. “And why are you here, Adele?”
“Whatever,” Adel mumbled. “I’m going.”
“The thing is,” I said, putting my hand on Adele’s shoulder, “Adele would really, really like to be in the choir. She didn’t do very well in the hall because she was nervous, but she sings in a gospel choir every Sunday so she can’t be that bad. We wondered, would you give her another chance, Mr Petrelli, please? Just let her sing a little bit, before the others get here. After all, we need all the singers we can get, right?”
Mr Petrelli looked at me. “This won’t get you off the hook, Ruby,” he told me. “Even if she turns out to be the next Charlotte Church, you still have to be in the choir.”
“I know,” I said. “I’ve come to terms with it, but please give Adele a chance. We’ve practised breathing and everything.” I thought Mr Petrelli almost smiled, but before his twitching mouth could turn upwards, he turned all stern again.
“Well then,” he stood up straight, as if bracing himself. “Go ahead, Adele. Let’s hear it.”
I let go of Adele’s arm and stood back, glancing at Dakshima’s face peering in through the window of the door. “Remember to breathe,” I whispered.
Adele opened her mouth and began to sing Amazing Grace, and I watched as Mr Petrelli’s expression changed from stern to pure delight. Adele really could sing, and about a million times better than anyone ever on X Factor.
“Adele Adebayor,” Mr Petrelli said, smiling for the first time since I’d known him. “You have been hiding you light under a bushel.”
“A what under a what?” I asked happily.
“It’s from the bible,” Adele told me. “It means I’ve been keeping my singing a secret.”
“You totally have,” I told her. “You totally have been really hiding it under a bushel thingy.” I looked at Mr Petrelli. “Well?” I asked him. “Is Adele in?”
Mr Petrelli smiled at me. “Adele is in,” he said. “And you know what else?” Adele and I shook our heads. “When I discover a voice like Adele’s right under my nose, it makes me realise something rather amazing.”
“What, sir?” Dakshima asked, pushing open the door.
“It turns out, Dakshima, that miracles do happen after all.”
“Spotlight!“
Words and Music by Mick Caruso
First all there is darkness, a silent empty space.
And suddenly you feel it touching your face!
It feels so very good, as warm as the sun,
And when you’re in it you know you’ve become
A star.
Spotlight, spotlight
Come and find me.
Spotlight, spotlight
You can’t blind me.
If anyone was ever meant to be
bathed in your golden light – it’s me!
If anyone was ever meant to be.
This is where my dreams are, captured in the light.
This is where they come true, right here tonight.
In the golden spotlight I am at home.
No need to run the race any more, because
I’ve already won it.
Spotlight, spotlight
Come and find me.
Spotlight, spotlight
You can’t blind me.
If anyone was ever meant to be
bathed in your golden light – it’s me!
If anyone was ever meant to be.
Listen to that applause, it is all for me.
I’m standing in the spotlight, being all that I can be.
This is the beginning, a beginning without end,
When you’ve got the spotlight, you don’t need
another friend
So…
Spotlight, spotlight
Come and find me.
Spotlight, spotlight
You can’t blind me.
If anyone was ever meant to be
bathed in your golden light – it’s me!
If anyone was ever meant to be.
“Right now, this time let’s try it with some feeling,” Mr Petrelli said. “Come on, people, we’ve only got twenty minutes left. This is it our chance to be in the spotlight – excuse the pun.” The choir groaned as one.
“This,” Mr Petrelli went on, “is the central song of the musical, this is what – if you win a place in the chorus – you’ll be singing on TV in front of millions of people and you can’t tell me you don’t like the sound of that!”
The choir blinked at him, somehow Mr Petrelli wasn’t quite selling the being on TV bit to them…us, I mean. Only I’d been live on TV in front of millions and millions of people before and it never seemed to work out so well. Last time had been on the Carl Vine Show in America, when I’d accidentally blown Sean’s UK location to the world’s media, lumbering him with a paparazzi army on his doorstep the very next morning.
“Look,” Mr Petrelli tried again. “You’ve picked up the tune pretty quickly, and amazingly the harmonies actually don’t sound too awful. But what I need from you, from all of you, is oomph. Some razzle dazzle, some…” Mr Petrelli trailed off as he looked at all of us, the best singers Highgate Comp had to offer, staring blankly at him.
When I first met Mr Petrelli I’d thought he was a bit like Sylvia Lighthouse, passionate about his subject and a bit scary. But if he were anything like Ms Lighthouse then he could have frightened us all into performing. But once you got to know him you could tell that he just loved music and singing, and he couldn’t understand why everyone else didn’t feel the same way. It didn’t help that only two of the choir really wanted to be here. One of them was Dakshima, the other was Adele and even she still didn’t seem to be able to let herself sing as wonderfully again, a fact that Mr Petrelli was tactfully ignoring.
“We’ve got one shot at this, people,” Mr Petrelli told us. “One shot to get through the regional finals and get our chance to be on TV and win that prize. And maybe we aren’t the best choir, but I’ve heard all of you sing, and whether you believe me or not I know that you all have good voices. Some of them, when I get a chance to work with you, might be truly great. So, come on! I know you can do it!”
If there had been any tumbleweed in the music room it would have blown across the room just then. I think Mr Petrelli was hoping for some whoops, maybe a couple of excited jumps, but all he got back from his pep talk was silence.
“Plus,” I piped up from the third row, “if we win, we’re bound to meet a ton of celebrities.”
“Celebrities?” Gabe Martinez asked me. “Any footballers?”
“Yes, totally,” I said, twisting to look at him. “There are always a couple of WAGS and a footballer or two in any celebrity audience. They love the whole TV charity performance thing.”
“When I try and think of millions of people seeing us on TV, it doesn’t feel real,” Talitha Penny said thoughtfully. Talitha was in the year above me and one of Dakshima’s best friends. Her younger sister Hannah was in our year and also in the choir – obviously a talent for singing ran in her family. “I suppose it would be cool though. We’d be famous!”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound all casual. “Completely.”
“You’ve been on telly loads of times, Ruby,” Dakshima said. “I remember seeing you and that Sean Rivers at the soap awards last year. Before he went mental. You tripped up and fell flat on your face, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did,” I said, feeling my cheeks colour. I had been trying to chase Danny in a pair of shoes that were far too high for me, because I wanted to tell him that there was no truth in the rumour that Sean and I were dating. What a waste of time that had been. I embarrassed myself on national TV for nothing because Danny chucked me anyway while I was in Hollywood. “Live TV can be…unpredictable. It’s different from filming or taping because you know you’ve only got one shot to get it right…or get it wrong and fall flat on your face.” Everyone laughed and I smiled too because it was friendly laughter. “There are millions of people watching you so it does feel pretty weird, but in a good way – you know – exciting.”
“I’d like to be, like, famous,” Talitha said after a moment.
“And telly famous too,” Gabe said. “That’s properly famous that is.”
“Well, that’s good, I think,” Mr Petrelli said slowly. “That’s a reason to stop messing around and start giving it your all. Because if you people want to stand even the smallest chance of making it on TV as part of the chorus for Spotlight! you have to mean every single word you sing. You have to act it, feel it, be it, love it. God knows they are awful lyrics, but they’re what we’ve got to work with.”
“We’ve got her, Ruby Parker,” Hannah said, pointing at me. “She’s been in films. The judges will love that.” A few other people murmured in agreement.
“No, I mean, yes,” I said, flustered. “I mean, you have got me, but this isn’t about me, it’s about the school and all of us. In fact I’d really rather we played down what I used to do as much as possible because a chorus is like a team. We all have to work together. There can’t be any individual that stands out. We’re the glue that holds everything else together. If we do that, then we might, just might, be in with a shot of winning.”
“And there is one other thing,” Mr Petrelli added. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but as it seems fame and celebrity are what motivate you the most, I can tell you that Danny Harvey is going to be auditioning for the lead at the same time you are taking part in the competition. You might even be able to get some autographs.”
“Cool,” Hannah said.
“He’s the one that chucked Ruby,” Adele reminded everyone.
“Oh, right,” Hannah said, looking at me. “Never really liked him myself.”
My heart was sinking, but not because of Danny. If the choir competition and the auditions for the leads were going to be on the same day, I’d have to tell Nydia and Anne-Marie about joining the choir because I was bound to see them, not to mention Jade, Menakshi and the rest. And although I knew Anne-Marie and Nydia would be fine about it, even pleased for me, Jade and Menakshi would find the whole thing hilarious. Failed star, Ruby Parker, tagging along with some manky school choir when she told everyone she didn’t want to do anything to do with show business any more. They’d think I’d given up – not because I chose to, but because I wasn’t good enough.
And the worst thing, the deepest darkest worst thing was, that I had given up because I wasn’t good enough. But I didn’t want them or anyone else to know that.
I glanced around at the choir and decided to take my own advice. I couldn’t get out of this so now I was part of the team, part of what might one day be a chorus. I would do the only thing I could do, blend myself into the background and do my best to help make the choir as good as it could be.
“Right,” Mr Petrelli said, gesturing for silence. “Now we’ve got our motivation – let’s sing!”
Chapter Five (#ulink_165e5c26-e858-5333-b3df-6a24ced7ffff)
It took some persuading to get Dakshima to come to Anne-Marie’s party.
“I’m not sure this is really me,” Dakshima was still saying while we getting ready round at mine. “I mean, trainers and jeans are me, and hanging out at the multiplex on a Friday night is me. Not wearing a sparkly dress and hanging out with the people who star in the films that are on at the multiplex. That’s not me at all.”
“There won’t be any film stars there,” I said. “Only Sean Rivers, and he’s retired. In fact, it’s probably best to act as if you have no idea who he is, especially in front of Anne-Marie. She can be a bit territorial.”
“Only Sean Rivers,” Dakshima laughed. “You can’t say the words only and Sean Rivers in the same sentence! I love his film The Underdogs. I’ve seen it about a hundred times. I can’t believe he’s Anne-Marie’s boyfriend. I was sure he’d like normal girls like me.”
“Anne-Marie is normal,” I defended my old friend to my new one. “Yes, she is very rich; yes her dad is a movie producer and her mum is a fashion industry mogul. But it doesn’t stop her from being one of the best and most loyal friends I have. And it’s not all easy for her, you know. She never sees her parents; she spends most of her time alone with the housekeeper and her older brother. Money can’t make you happy.”
“No, but it can make being sad a lot easier to deal with,” Dakshima observed.
“Starting a new school is hard,” I tried to explain. “Knowing you, Hannah and Talitha and the others makes it better…easier. I want my new friends to get on with my old ones, starting with you.”
Dakshima watched me for a moment as if she was deciding whether we were friends or not. “All right then,” she smiled after a moment. “I’ll give a go, seeing as you are a movie star too.”
“I was in a film,” I protested, still feeling a bit awkward about my famous past. “That’s a whole different thing.”
“Just for the record, I thought that The Lost Treasure of King Arthur was pretty good actually,” Dakshima said. “Not the best film I’ve ever seen, like. But I didn’t hate it. You were all right in it. And Sean was well amazing…Anyway I’ve always wanted to go to a show biz party.”
“Only an hour till the party – better decide what to wear,” I said, opening my wardrobe doors.
I took one of the outfits I had brought home from Hollywood out of my wardrobe; a dark, ruby red velvet dress with a drop waist and a silk rose on the hip. It was exactly the sort of “fabulous” thing I should be wearing to Anne-Marie’s party, but I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to do it.
“That’s nice,” Dakshima said, wrinkling her nose a little bit. “It’s a bit girly, but I suppose that’s dresses for you.”
“It reminds me of Hollywood,” I said, thoughtfully.
“Well it’s perfect then, isn’t it? That’s what Anne-Marie wants. For everyone to dress up like Hollywood Stars?”
“I hated Hollywood,” I said. “What with getting hounded out of school by the nastiest girl I’ve ever met, and then hounded out of Hollywood by critics and the press. In the end I ran away, stole my mum’s credit card, booked myself a flight and came home in the middle of the night alone because I didn’t think mum would let me.”
“Weren’t you scared?” Dakshima asked me, her eyes widening.
“Seriously scared. I just had to get out of Hollywood, right then. Mum said anything could have happened to me.” I paused, remembering how much Mum had cried and shouted at me when she caught up with me. “Anyway, reminding myself about Hollywood isn’t the most fun thing, which is why I don’t really want to wear this dress.”
“Rubbish,” Dakshima said firmly, without a shred of sympathy. I looked at her. “That’s plain rubbish, Ruby. Put the dress on – you’ll look really great in it. And you can’t tell me any remotely sane thirteen-year-old girl is not going to wear something totally cool because it reminds her of a place that wasn’t so cool. If you wear that dress tonight then from tomorrow it will remind you of Anne-Marie’s party. Problem sorted and it’s all good.”
I looked at the dress and then took it off the hanger. Dakshima was right – what was I thinking, I had a whole wardrobe of clothes that Jade Caruso would kill for! Leaving them unworn was unthinkable, no matter how much they reminded me of Hollywood.
“You and Anne-Marie are more alike than you think,” I said, my voice muffled as I temporarily got my head stuck in an armhole.
“If you say so,” Dakshima snorted, pulling the dress over my shoulders. “Nice one,” she said, with a nod of approval.
Just then there was a knock at the door and Mum popped her head round it.
“Look who’s here,” she said, pushing the door back for Nydia, who was wearing a green silk dress with a paler green stole wrapped around her shoulders. She had sprayed her skin with gold glitter spray so that she sparkled.
“Hello,” Dakshima said, with a friendly and slightly shy smile.
“You look great,” I said. “It’s a shame Greg is still up north – he’d be blown away!”
“Thanks,” Nydia said, before adding, “I texted him a photo.
“Right, well,” Mum said, with the funny look on her face that she usually had when she wanted to hug me but knew I’d drop dead from embarrassment if she did. “Hurry up and get your glad rags on then, girls. I’m dropping you off at Anne-Marie’s and Nydia’s dad is picking you up at 10.30 sharp, so be ready, no excuses, OK? I want you in this door at 10.45 latest. Dakshima’s mum and dad are trusting me to take care of her tonight, so don’t let me down.”
“We won’t,” I said, rolling my eyes at the others.
Secretly though I liked having my old un-Hollywood mum back again. Since she started going out with world famous star of stage and screen Jeremy Fort, she kept her roots tinted and her nails manicured and wore high heels on weekdays to go to the supermarket, that was true. But at least the orange skin and stiff face that she had experimented with had faded away, and with it had gone the monster mom she’d become for a while. In Hollywood she’d been so ambitious for me and blinded by the glamour that just for a bit she forgot about asking me what I wanted or how I felt about everything that happened over there. So I didn’t mind if she told me off for leaving my shoes in the hall or wiped off the lip-gloss I tried wearing to school with spit on a tissue. That was my mum, the one who wanted what was best for me, even if it was sometimes boring and a total lip-gloss-free zone.
With Anne-Marie unavailable, it was Dakshima who did our make-up, me first and then Nydia. Considering jeans and trainers are her favourite things, she seemed like an expert. (It would have been hard to be worse than me. I tried out some pink and purple eye shadow a while back and my Auntie Pat asked me if I had conjunctivitis.)
“You’re good at eyeliner,” I said, admiring hers, which swished out at the corners making her eyes look even bigger than they were.
“Well, it’s the law in my house to learn how to do make-up. My mum started teaching me when I was about three,” Dakshima said with a laugh.
“What are you going to wear?” Nydia asked.
“This,” Dakshima said uncertainly. “I’ve got a couple of dresses but this is the sparkliest most “fabulous” thing I could think of. It’s my sister’s and if she finds out I’ve borrowed it I will be dead, so don’t let me spill anything on it.”
Dakshima held up a two piece Indian trouser suit in a rich deep purple that was decorated with gold thread and beading all around the neck and sleeves.
“Wow!” Nydia said.
“It’s a bit more Bollywood than Hollywood,” Dakshima said, a little uncertainly.
“It’s amazing,” Nydia said. “Ooh, this is going to be a good party, I can feel it.”
“I hope so,” I said, as Mum called us from downstairs. “Otherwise Anne-Marie will never shut up about it.”
“Rubes,” Nydia laughed, “whether it’s the best party in the world or the worst, there is one thing we know for sure…”
The two of us looked at each other and laughed. “…Anne-Marie will never shut up about it.”
I was quiet in the car while Nydia gave Dakshima the lowdown on Anne-Marie’s place. I was feeling nervous and not only because I’d be seeing all of the Academy kids again for the first time since the Valentine’s disco. I’d be seeing Danny too, and he was bound to be there with Melody. Anne-Marie had told me that despite her policy of inviting everyone she even vaguely knew, whether she liked them or not, she was happy to uninvite Danny and Melody if I wanted her to. And I had wanted her to, but I told her it was fine. I knew that they all still hung out with him at the Academy so it would have been silly for Anne-Marie not to invite him. Besides, I wanted him to see that I didn’t care any more, even though that was a total lie; he seemed to be stubbornly sticking around in my head despite my best efforts to get him out of it. Even a Valentine’s kiss for Hollywood High hunk Hunter Blake (as Teen Girl! Magazine called him) hadn’t dislodged Danny from my daydreams, which was highly inconvenient. I decided to try a bit of method acting to see if that worked. I thought if I acted like I didn’t give him a second thought for long enough, then pretty soon it would become true.
It was funny that no matter how much I tired to give up acting, there was always a little part of me still doing it.
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