Because of the requirements for appearance and performance, the second round of auditions was held in a small theater nearby. There was still plenty of time before they began, but the singers were already arriving one after another. They tacitly kept their distance, sitting scattered around the dim auditorium.
Song Ya quietly watched from behind the stage curtain. Most of the girls were young and pretty, and most had already done their makeup. They wore light jackets over the outfits they would wear onstage later. Some nervously looked around, while others calmly studied the sheet music in their hands. Since SBK only allowed each person to bring one companion, most of the people beside the girls were their managers. Several managers who knew one another gathered to talk quietly while they waited for the auditions to begin.
Mira and Mrs. Jovovich arrived last. Mira still wore her Ray-Bans and baseball cap, and still had that look that said she thought everyone else was beneath her. She just walked a little awkwardly. She and Mrs. Jovovich found seats in the back row.
Song Ya would never believe that Mrs. Jovovich hadn't noticed the change in the daughter she saw every day after she'd lost her virginity. But she still chose to ignore it, and was now following Song Ya's suggestion: discreetly opening a small bottle of vodka and handing it to Mira, watching as she took a big gulp.
The rumors were right: Mira's parents were both greedy. But unlike her father, who lived far away in Los Angeles and had gambled away all the money his daughter had earned since she was nine, Mrs. Jovovich's greed took a different form. The large pearl necklace around her neck looked especially glaring just then.
A staff member from SBK came over and called the girl who was first to perform into the dressing room.
"It's about to start. Let's go over."
Daniel led Song Ya and the other SBK executives to the front row. The managers who had been chatting returned to their girls' sides, behaving themselves and not coming over to bother them.
Right on time, the first girl went onstage. She looked nervous, repeatedly tugging at the straps of her red evening dress, but she still remembered to keep a sweet smile directed toward the front row.
A staff member handed Daniel a microphone, its long black audio cable trailing far behind.
"Are you ready?" Daniel asked into the microphone. After the girl onstage confirmed she was, he handed it to Song Ya.
"Then let's begin." Song Ya had practiced what to say in this situation. The main thing was to keep it brief. "Eric." He looked toward Eric at the side of the stage.
Eric gave him a thumbs-up.
"Five, four, three, two, one..." Song Ya counted down, and Eric pressed a button. The theater speakers began playing the backing track for "Fuck You," the original version recorded by Delay.
"Look inside, look inside your tiny mind..."
The girl finished the song, gripping the microphone with both hands, her body already trembling slightly.
"Don't be too nervous." After saying that, Song Ya leaned out to scan the people on either side. When he saw one of the SBK executives raise a hand, he passed the microphone over.
"Um... could you handle it a little more..."
After that executive offered his feedback, the person beside him added a couple of comments. The microphone was handed back to Song Ya, who signaled Eric to play the backing track again.
There were exactly ten singers in this second round of auditions. Seven had been allowed to go straight to the second round, while only three had made it through the first. Everyone had one or two chances to sing again.
As time passed, Song Ya felt all the singers' styles drifting toward those of the three girls who had made it through the first round. It seemed the people advising them had been sharp enough to figure out what he liked.
The singer Daniel had originally favored went onstage. She looked at least twenty-five, making her the oldest of the auditioning singers. She also had the best voice and the most polished stage presence. Unfortunately, even without Mira, she would have been the first person Song Ya wanted to eliminate. It was the same old problem: there was no reason to consider any singer who performed the song too "earnestly."
After she finished, Daniel took the microphone and offered a few casual suggestions, then gave her one more chance to sing. He already knew Song Ya had someone in mind; this was simply a way of giving the people backing the girl an explanation.
Next up was Mira.
When she came out of the dressing room, Mira wore tight blue jeans and a cropped denim vest that left her shoulders bare and showed a small strip of her stomach. She looked youthful, with a hint of sexiness. Song Ya had no idea how much vodka Mrs. Jovovich had given her, but the Mira who usually wore a sour expression was gone. Her cheeks were flushed, and her little facial expressions had come alive.
"Are you ready?" Song Ya asked.
Despite all his reminders not to reveal their relationship during the audition, Mira giggled and winked at him. Her little face turned even redder.
"If you're ready, let's start, Eric." Song Ya hurriedly signaled Eric to play the backing track.
"Look inside..."
Mira began to sing. Two nights of intensive training had worked very well. Her singing was far from the other singers' level, especially the original singer's, but her lazy, casual style was really catchy in this era. Her "Fuck you" in particular was a level above the other girls' versions. As for her performance, she followed Song Ya's instructions, winking and biting her lip at the audience the whole time. She was the very picture of a sexy kitten.
Song Ya noticed Daniel nodding slightly throughout.
After she finished, one of the executives beside him cleared his throat. Song Ya passed him the microphone.
"You give the lyrics a bit of an English accent. What was your thinking?" the executive asked.
During their training, Song Ya had compared Mira's pronunciation with the original singer's and taken the real-world circumstances into account. Rather than copying it entirely, he'd had Mira add a bit of a British flavor to her connected words and vocal turns. The effect was excellent. The people in the audience were all industry veterans, and sure enough, they'd noticed.
"I lived in London for a while."
Mira answered. After all, she was the one who had given Song Ya the inspiration for the song. If he'd asked another singer to use British pronunciation, it would have exposed him. He was just a poor kid who'd grown up in Chicago.
The executive nodded and passed the microphone on.
The others offered a few more suggestions. Mira sang the song again, then staggered offstage.
After all ten girls had sung, Daniel stood up. "We'll announce the results before seven," he said crisply.
They'd already been told this, and the girls' managers all nodded to show they understood. Daniel left the theater and returned to his office, and Song Ya naturally followed.
"Mira?" Daniel asked. Song Ya had lost count of how many times he'd asked.
"Don't you think she's a good fit?" Mira's performance gave Song Ya the confidence to turn the question back on him.
Daniel pursed his lips. "She is. Your training worked well. Go get something to eat. I'll announce the results at seven."
Song Ya returned to the recording studio and checked his watch. It was already six in the evening. Hayden had prepared Chinese takeout in a pagoda-logo box.
"Rehearsals start in a couple of days. If there's nothing else..." Hayden said he was heading back to Chicago. He had more than one client, and there must have been plenty waiting for him to take care of back in Chicago.
"No problem." Song Ya gave him a hug. "Our trip to New York has been a great success."
"APLUS..." Lisa knocked and told him someone was looking for him.
Song Ya followed her out and into a small reception room. An old white man stood inside. He recognized him as one of the managers of the ten auditioning singers.
"Sorry, I'm not really available to meet with you right now."
He glanced at Lisa, who was about to close the door, then turned and left.
"Hey! The music school. Remember now?" the old man called after him. It was where he'd trained Mira.
Lisa closed the door. Song Ya turned back and stared at the old man. "Were you following me?" He'd underestimated the intensity of the competition in New York, but he hadn't expected the competition to sink this low.
"A friend of mine happened to see you." The old man pulled a photo from his pocket. It showed Mira sneaking out to see Song Ya off in the early hours of the previous morning, the two of them kissing.
"Your friend has a very professional camera," Song Ya said coldly.
"Daniel said he'd follow your opinion completely. I think my girl is the best choice, don't you?" The old man got straight to the point.
Song Ya frowned and thought it over. So what if the old man had found out he'd slept with Mira? That sort of thing happened all the time in the movie and record industries. "Sorry, your girl doesn't stand a chance." He rejected him outright.
"Ha!"
The old man gave a short laugh. "You should know Mira's a minor!"
Song Ya stared at him in utter confusion. "So?"
"So what? Aren't you afraid of going to jail?" The old man stared at him in shock.
Song Ya understood everything and couldn't help laughing. "But Mira and I are the same age! If you have the time to pull stunts like this..." He pointed to the photo in the old man's hand. "Didn't you bother to find out how old I am?"
"You're also... What!?" The old man finally lost his composure, his face full of disbelief. "You're only fifteen!? You don't look it at all. I thought you were at least twenty!"
Song Ya touched his face. "Is it a crime for a Black guy to look older?" Leaving the old man standing there, he added, "I hope you don't show your face in front of me again," and walked away.
Halfway down the hall, another SBK executive stopped him. The man wore glasses and was a little bald. Song Ya had seen him in Daniel's office and thought his name was something like Robert. "APLUS, I think... she's a good choice. What do you think?" He named one of the girls.
Song Ya immediately recognized Robert as the man who'd said "that's why they call it the White House" in the restroom. "Sorry, she's not my choice."
"Hey!"
Robert grabbed Song Ya's arm and stared fiercely into his eyes. "Work with me. I guarantee you won't regret it, and Mira will still get her album—an album! It's a great deal. Otherwise, you and her will have a hard time at SBK. I promise."
"Sorry." Song Ya pried his hand off and walked away.
At seven, Song Ya's pager went off. He called back, and Mira's excited shouts came through the phone. "Mwah! Thank you, darling, I love you! Mwah!"
"I love you too," he replied.
Someone knocked at the door. "I'm going to be busy here. See you in the studio tomorrow, baby..." He smiled as he hung up. "Come in."
A blond clerk he didn't recognize walked in, carrying a fruit platter. When she saw Song Ya, her expression suddenly changed, and she turned to leave.
"Take it in!" Robert's voice ordered from outside.
The clerk hesitated, then turned back and set the platter on the table. Her heels clicked rapidly as she hurried away.
"You son of a bitch!" Eric saw the platter and flew into a rage, dashing away from the mixing board.
"What's going on?" Song Ya stared at the neat rows of watermelon slices on the platter, baffled.
A commotion came from outside. Delay shoved Eric back into the room and closed the door behind him.
Song Ya finally remembered. Back in the plantation era, slaveholders had grown watermelons in poor soil to provide hydration for the Black slaves who worked in the sun all day. Later, watermelons had often been used in racist depictions of Black people. So...
"APLUS! We can't let him get away with this!" Eric shouted.
"I'll tell Daniel."
In this era, hitting someone was against the law, and there wasn't much you could do about this kind of subtle racism. "Robert, was it? I'll remember you." Song Ya picked up a slice of watermelon. "I used to like eating this, actually." He took a bite. "Huh? Used to?"
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