Free Choosing America's Next Superstar by Jeff Erno

you’d stay
 
    He started dancing around the room, all the while staring directly at Jimmy. As he sang, he gave Jimmy a pouty, apologetic look, and belted out the words of the Cher song while using one hand to clutch his chest. He held out his arm, palm up, and looked into Jimmy’s eyes, fluttering his eyelashes flirtatiously.
    In spite of himself and his desire to be pissed, Jimmy couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly he had to give in. He burst into laughter as he shook his head.
    Corey thrust the hairbrush into his hand, as Jimmy tried composing himself. He then opened his mouth and began to sing, same song but second verse. When he got to the chorus, they were singing in unison. Corey crawled over Jimmy’s mattress and stood beside him, draping his arm around Jimmy’s neck as they shared the mic.
    “Our first duet,” Corey said when they’d finished.
    Jimmy was cracking up, but then grew more serious. He felt a little bit silly. He was still in his bathrobe, hair still wet, and was holding onto some hairbrush pretending it was a microphone.
    “Does this mean you forgive me?” Corey said. “Puh-leez?”
    “I’ll think about it,” Jimmy said. He took a step away from Corey, then turned and handed him back the brush.
    “Good! Then let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
    “Yeah, that’s right. They’ll be serving dinner soon… then we have a meeting.”
    “Well, hurry up… unless you wanna just go like that.” Corey looked Jimmy up and down, assessing his current attire.
    Jimmy laughed. “Nah, I think I better get dressed. I don’t parade around nekid like some people.”
    It was Corey’s turn to chuckle. “I love the way you express yourself. Some of the stuff you say is so funny.”
    Jimmy furrowed his brows and cocked his head slightly. How else would you say it? Nekid’s nekid. Right?
     
     
    A BUFFET was set up in the conference room, and as Corey walked in, he soaked up the enthusiastic energy of the four hundred young competitors. Twenty-six was the maximum age to compete on America’s Next Superstar , and there were contestants as young as fifteen. Everyone seemed excited and happy, acting as if they were all best friends. While it was true they were all in the same situation—all passionate about doing their best in the competition—there was no denying that once the performances began, it would be every man (or woman) for themselves.
    Jimmy was right behind him and leaned over to speak into Corey’s ear. “This here is our competition,” he said.
    “Scary, isn’t it?” Corey said.
    “And kinda sad. There’s gonna be a lot of disappointment. So many of us….”
    “Of them ,” Corey corrected him. “Dude, you can’t think like that. You gotta be sure of yourself and know you can make it. Just keep thinking about why you’re here. Think of your brother.”
    Jimmy smiled at him and nodded. “You’re right. We’re gonna kick butt tomorrow.”
    “Hmm, well, you can kick butt if you want. I’m gonna kick ass .”
    Just then Corey noticed a flash of fluorescent green. It was his punk rocker friend’s Mohawk. “Jeremy!” he shouted. “Dude, you made it.”
    The punk rocker stepped over, offering a high five. “Hey, man, you too.”
    “Wow, I didn’t think I’d see you again. I lost track of you back in Detroit.”
    “Well, this is it, man,” Jeremy said. “Are you guys in line?”
    “Uh… not yet, I guess. Jeremy, this is my roommate Jimmy.”
    It took them nearly twenty minutes to make it through the buffet line, and then the three of them got a table toward the back of the room. When Corey spotted Sam, he motioned her over. She had another girl with her, perhaps her roommate.
    “Hey, Teri,” Jimmy said, offering a warm smile.
    “You two know each other?” Corey asked.
    “We met in the elevator,” Teri said.
    “How weird,” Sam said. “You two know each other, and we know each other.” She pointed to Corey. “And we’re each other’s roommates.”
    “And