Today is the last day of practicing in our groups, but the first day all the groups practice together.My partners, Sabrina and Karina (no, not kidding, and also, not related), and I have pretty much nailed our parts.Not that it matters, because as much as this is a group assignment, twenty people are getting cut tomorrow, and I ain’t going to be one of them.After what feels like an eternity of stop and go, the little Subaru hatchback finally skirts the curb before dropping me off in front of the studio.Studio Red is one of the oldest studios still operating in all of Hollywood.It dates back to the early 1900s, and rumors have it that it was also the birthplace of the classic I Love Lucy show.When I approach the gate, the guard is startled, untucking his chin from his chest.The whir of a space heater is a faint soundtrack in the background, accompanied by his podcast.Something about the Raiders.
“Name?”he says, skipping introductions completely before swiping his pointer fingers against the sleep in his eyes.
“Levi Johnson,” I say, and a surprising cloud of smoke follows it into the cool morning air.His eyes flip to a clipboard on the desk.His large coffee is taunting me.
“Alright, go on in.You’re the last one here.”It’s a pretty weighty response considering he’s been using one-word communication up to this point, so I don’t dare say what I want to say, which is, How is that possible?And exactly what time did the others arrive?Do they sleep here?
The gates creak open, a sound probably not heard during the day over the hustle and bustle of LA.I follow the pathway through the art deco structure, everything painted gray.I fling open the door to the practice room; the cool, quiet vibe of the morning is gone, and I’m immediately cold-plunged into day.Bright lights made even brighter by mirrors and shiny floors greet me, every contestant crammed into a room, all having different conversations at the same time, each voice trying to rival the other.My eyes blink in adjustment and I consider slowly backtracking from the room.
“LEVI’S HERE!”Gabriella yells, and every head turns to look at me.
I shove my fingers into the skin at my temples.“Does anyone have extra coffee?”This is somehow funny, and people laugh before returning to their conversations.
“I’ll give you half of mine if we can find a cup.It’s just black though,” Clay—my knight in blue joggers—says, approaching from the side.
“Here, mine was double-cupped, but it’s not that hot anymore.”Tate offers.
I watch as Clay pours the hot liquid into the cup and hands it to me.I’m touched, but resist the urge to sentimentalize it, muttering a low “Thanks” instead, keeping my eyes on the now warm cup in hand.
“You’re not a morning person, huh?”Tate comments, seemingly as awake as any other time of day.
“This isn’t morning,” It echoes through the cup as I take a large swig.“What time did you guys get here anyways?”
Tate looks at Clay in concentration.“We left at...4:20?”
“Yeah, I ordered the car for 4:15, but he had trouble finding the place.It's darker back up in the hills.”
“People, people, people!”Jan, the production manager, shouts while trying to turn on her headset microphone.Someone runs over to help her, but she can’t wait so she just yells the next commands.“We only have one day to get this right!Your future and reputation depend on how this first performance goes, but it is still a team sport.No improv!Don’t jump in front of the camera at the last minute or do anything off-script, or you’re automatically out!Capisce?Alright, let’s do this!”
Her assistant tries to hand her back the mic, but it’s too late.Clay extends his knuckles for a bump before we all split into our groups and get to work.This is why I’m here.
Chapter 10
Tate
Isink my teeth intothe pillow of my bottom lip, my eyes fixed in heavy exhaustion as I lean against the wall of the American Icon studio.Twenty contestants were cut.Twenty.People are smiling and laughing while others are quietly internalizing or crying.I feel somewhere in the middle.In all my excitement and preparation, I wasn’t prepared for this moment.Sure, the possibility of going home was always a reality I was ready for, but watching other people’s dreams end was something I didn’t consider, and it feels almost more painful.After hours and hours in the studio, we all fell together in the best way.I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun.And then came time for the polls...
