Ruby Parker: Musical Star

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

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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