Starry-Eyed

Home > Other > Starry-Eyed > Page 1
Starry-Eyed Page 1

by Ted Michael




  STARRY-EYED

  Also by Ted Michael

  So You Wanna Be a Superstar?: The Ultimate Audition Guide

  Other Running Press Teens anthologies include:

  Cornered: 14 Stories of Bullying and Defiance

  Edited by Rhoda Belleza

  Willful Impropriety: 13 Tales of Society, Scandal, and Romance

  Edited by Ekaterina Sedia

  Brave New Love: 15 Dystopian Tales of Desire

  Edited by Paula Guran

  Truth & Dare: 20 Tales of Heartbreak and Happiness

  Edited by Liz Miles

  Corsets & Clockwork: 13 Steampunk Romances

  Edited by Trisha Telep

  Kiss Me Deadly: 13 Tales of Paranormal Love

  Edited by Trisha Telep

  The Eternal Kiss: 13 Vampire Tales of Blood and Desire

  Edited by Trisha Telep

  Edited by Ted Michael & Josh Pultz

  Introduction by Clay Aiken

  RP | TEENS

  PHILADELPHIA · LONDON

  Copyright © 2013 by Peach Productions LLC (unless otherwise noted)

  “Introduction” copyright © 2013 by Clay Aiken. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “The Accompanist” copyright © 2013 by Eve Yohalem. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Jesse Tyler Ferguson. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “MC Wax” copyright © 2013 by Josh Berk. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Ian Harding. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Tessitura” copyright © 2013 by Maryrose Wood. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Sierra Boggess. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?” copyright © 2013 by Marc Acito. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Ali Stroker. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Echo” copyright © 2013 by Kiersten Brazier. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Greta Gerwig. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Talent” copyright © 2013 by Amy Vincent. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Gavin Lee. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Other Life” copyright © 2013 by Garret Freymann-Weyr First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Andrea McArdle. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “A Midwinter Night’s Dream” copyright © 2013 by Jacqueline West. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Anthony Fedorov. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Gravy and Mashed” copyright © 2013 by Tanya Lee Stone. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Lisa Howard. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “A Love Song” copyright © 2013 by Antony John. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Lea Salonga. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Tuesday at Midnight” copyright © 2013 by Nina LaCour. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Bonnie Langford. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Stage Kiss” copyright © 2013 by Cynthia Hand. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Alice Ripley. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “The Artful Dodger” copyright © 2013 by Aimee Friedman. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Lynn Cohen. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Becca First” copyright © 2013 by Alexandra Flinn. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Montego Glover. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Stringbean and Goose” copyright © 2013 by Laura Goode. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “Anecdote” copyright © 2013 by Telly Leung. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  “A Date with Destiny” copyright © 2013 by Josh Pultz. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.

  All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.

  Books published by Running Press are available at special discounts for bulk purchases in the United States by corporations, institutions, and other organizations. For more information, please contact the Special Markets Department at the Perseus Books Group, 2300 Chestnut Street, Suite 200, Philadelphia, PA 19103, or call (800) 810-4145, ext. 5000, or e-mail [email protected].

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013940578

  E-book ISBN 978-0-7624-5078-7

  987654321

  Digit on the right indicates the number of this printing

  Designed by Joshua McDonnell

  Typography: Avenir, Bembo, and Mensch

  Published by Running Press Teens

  An Imprint of Running Press Book Publishers

  A Member of the Perseus Books Group

  2300 Chestnut Street

  Philadelphia, PA 19103–4371

  Visit us on the web!

  www.runningpress.com/kids

  Contents

  Introduction: Clay Aiken

  A Note from the Editors: Ted Michael & Josh Pultz

  The Accompanist: Eve Yohalem

  Anecdote: Jesse Tyler Ferguson

  MC Wax: Josh Berk

  Anecdote: Ian Harding

  Tessitura: Maryrose Wood

  Anecdote: Sierra Boggess

  How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?: Marc Acito

  Anecdote: Ali Stroker

  Echo: Kiersten White

  Anecdote: Greta Gerwig

  Talent: Claudia Gray

  Anecdote: Gavin Lee

  Other Life: Garret Freymann-Weyr

  Anecdote: Andrea McArdle

  A Midwinter Night’s Dream: Jacqueline West

  Anecdote: Anthony Fedorov

  Gravy and Mashed: Tanya Lee Stone

  Anecdote: Lisa Howard

  A Love
Song: Antony John

  Anecdote: Lea Salonga

  Tuesday at Midnight: Nina LaCour

  Anecdote: Bonnie Langford

  Stage Kiss: Cynthia Hand

  Anecdote: Alice Ripley

  The Artful Dodger: Aimee Friedman

  Anecdote: Lynn Cohen

  Becca First: Alex Flinn

  Anecdote: Montego Glover

  Stringbean and Goose: Laura Goode

  Anecdote: Telly Leung

  A Date with Destiny: Josh Pultz

  Contributor Bios

  Editor Bios

  Acknowledgments

  FOR YOUNG

  PERFORMERS

  AND ARTISTS

  EVERYWHERE

  INTRODUCTION

  If someone had asked me when I was a teenager if I ever dreamed of being where I am today, I would have told that person one thing: yes.

  Imagine a ten- or eleven-year-old me. Though Mom might say otherwise, like most kids, I wasn’t always the cutest or the best dressed or the most popular in school. What I did have, though, was drive, determination, and a passion for singing.

  Whether it was a concert with the local boys’ choir, a Sunday morning hymn at church, or a role in a community theater production, I always felt most alive when I was performing. The thrill of making music and the artistic friends that I made through my love for the arts made my teenage years enjoyable and planted the seed for my current career. But the glitz and glamour of Los Angeles and the bright lights of Broadway seemed miles away from my front porch in Raleigh, North Carolina, way back when.

  Flash forward to May of 2003: To my left is American Idol contestant (and my competition) Ruben Studdard. To my right, host Ryan Seacrest holding a little piece of paper that would change my life forever.

  American Idol may have introduced me to the world, but even now I still haven’t forgotten where I’ve come from. I have been able to accomplish so many of my dreams as a performer, but the seed that was planted when I was a teenager, my love for music and singing, the joy that I feel onstage connecting with people, has grown into a career that is larger and brighter than anything I could have ever imagined.

  Starry-Eyed is full of stories about passion for the arts, the challenges of stardom, the silly side of show business and the successes that come with just being you. Inside, you’ll also find words of wisdom and encouragement from some names you’ll definitely recognize. Maybe you’ve seen them on your favorite television show or in a blockbuster movie. Perhaps you’ve heard them on the radio or seen them perform in concert. Either way, they started out just like you and me: with a love for the arts and a dream. With a little luck, some hard work, and a lot of heart, they have some incredible stories to share with you. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have.

  Clay Aiken

  A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS

  There’s a reason that so many people love Glee—besides all of the musical numbers. And Jane Lynch.

  Really, Glee is a show about the underdog, and no one knows what it feels like to be ignored, pushed aside, and made fun of like a teenager—especially one who loves the performing arts. Not only do Glee and other TV shows like The Voice, The X Factor, American Idol, Smash, So You Think You Can Dance (and many more) inspire us to believe in the power of music, they encourage us to follow our dreams. They teach us that with hard work and confidence, anything is possible. Because when it comes to the performing arts, it’s not about fitting in—it’s about standing out.

  Which is why we wanted to craft a collection of stories that spoke to the very heart of what it means to be a teenager and to love performing. The stories in this anthology are written by some of today’s most fantastic writers, and they are all inspired by the transformative power of music, dance, and drama. Whether you’re a member of the audience, taking it all in, or up onstage, making it all happen, there’s nothing quite like the magic of a fantastic performance.

  In these pages, you will read about everything from the simple wonder of a first kiss to unlikely yet powerful friendships to the thrilling mystery of finding one’s voice—literally. In addition to these stories, throughout this anthology, theater, television, and film actors have shared the moments that inspired their careers and exposed their personal failures and triumphs.

  The seeds of Starry-Eyed were planted many years ago, when we were in school. For us, performing was the creative outlet we needed to make us feel special. From plays and musicals to chorus, band, and orchestra rehearsal, we were allowed to truly be ourselves. To pursue our dreams and reach for the stars. Our best friends were made during productions and musical summer camps. The arts provided us a home, a safe haven when we needed one, and for that we are forever grateful.

  We hope that you enjoy Starry-Eyed as much as we have enjoyed putting it together.

  Ted Michael & Josh Pultz

  THE ACCOMPANIST

  Eve Yohalem

  When I was nine years old I smashed my pinky with a meat mallet so I wouldn’t have to go onstage.

  It was the night of Mrs. Komar’s annual Christmas recital. She’d rented out Westview’s Town Hall for her piano students, and it felt like half the town was there.

  I stood in a corner of the green room (a file storage room by day) fingering the straps of my tote bag and listening to the older kids talk about how nervous they were, even though they really weren’t. All that hugging and deep breathing and “oh-my-God-ing”? That was excitement. They couldn’t wait to get out there and show the whole world how great they were. Nervous is when you beg your mother again and again not to make you do it, when you look up phobia in the dictionary before the scariest conversation you’ve ever had with your Eastern Bloc piano teacher, when your brother has a cold and you sneak dirty tissues out of his trash can and rub them on your face—and after all that fails, when you stuff a meat mallet into your tote bag, wedging it right between Chopin’s waltzes and Beethoven’s sonatas.

  My black patent leather flats had rubbed blisters on my heels even though I was wearing tights like my mother told me to. She’d pulled my braids so tight I thought my eyeballs would pop out of my head. That way, she said, there was no chance my hair would fall in my eyes and distract me.

  The problem with being able to play Mozart when you’re nine years old? Everybody wants to see you do it. But all that wanting felt like taking, like everybody who listened to me play pinched off little Andie souvenirs, leaving me with Swiss cheese for a soul. And then there’s the whole prodigy thing. People said exceptional and I heard exception. They said outstanding and I heard oddity.

  “Andie, you okay?” Mrs. Komar’s husband bent down to peer into my face. It was his job to keep order backstage. Histrionic teenagers were bad enough. The last thing he needed was an epic third grader meltdown.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “You’re gonna be great,” he said.

  “I have to go the bathroom.”

  Alone in the ladies’ room with the door locked, I pulled the meat mallet out of my bag. It had a long wood handle and a big square metal block on one end for flattening chicken into cutlets. Two sides of the block were smooth, a third had spikes and the fourth had ridges. I picked a smooth side. I wanted pounding, not tenderizing.

  I straightened my pinky on the Formica vanity. No hesitation. Just a good sharp thwack.

  Freedom.

  . . . . . . . . . .

  Eight years and one healed pinky later, I still hate the spotlight. But tonight that’s okay because I’m alone in the orchestra pit of my high school auditorium.

  I look up . . .

  . . . over the manuscript stand, beyond the stained top of my upright piano. I scan the rehearsal stage where there’s a cardboard city plaza, circa 1930. Think old Europe at its quaintest: cobbled streets, ornate black streetlights, an array of charming shops around a fountain made out of a lawn swan and a plastered-over kiddie pool. The cast of Westview High School’s She Loves Me are milling around, checking cell phones or trying out f
acial expressions. My eye goes to the wings, where the two leads Chloe Pavone and Ben Jazinsky are dancing. Waltzing, I think. They do this a lot.

  Chloe Pavone of the high As and the grand jetés. She who can cry on demand, kill a punch line. She of heart-shaped face and round brown eyes and perfect boobs. And Jazinsky who went by the nickname BJ all through elementary school because he thought it sounded cool. In sixth grade he found out why it wasn’t and told everyone to call him Ben.

  Across from Chloe and Ben, Henry DeRuyter leans against the proscenium, already in character though the run-through hasn’t started. What I mean by that is Henry DeRuyter played Danny Zuko in Grease last year and he was Henry DeRuyter. He played Gaston in Beauty and the Beast as a sophomore and he was Henry DeRuyter. Now he’s Steven Kodaly, the arrogant, handsome ladies’ man, but really he’s Henry DeRuyter.

  And, yes, I admit I used to lie in bed at night thinking about Henry with the soundtrack in my brain playing Debussy’s Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun. I would fan out my hair behind me on my pillow and let the music spill down my body like water, dreaming about exotic places I’d never been to, like Henry’s bedroom on a Thursday afternoon while his parents were still at work.

  By “used to” I mean last week.

  From behind me floats the disembodied voice of our director, Mr. Sandburg:

  “Okay everybody. We’re going to start from the beginning and work straight through. Places for ‘Good Morning, Good Day’! Andie, you ready?”

  I drag my eyes off Henry and find Mr. Sandburg a few rows back in the audience. As the pianist for the school musical, I’ve been to every rehearsal. She Loves Me has a ridiculously difficult score, the kind of stuff that usually only classical musicians like me play. So even though we open in two nights, the music director is working with the rest of the band in the rehearsal studio, and tonight I’m on my own in the pit. Which is really just a clump of chairs and music stands off to one side and below the stage in the auditorium.

 

‹ Prev