Rock Idol
Realty with a Twist Series
By
Veronica Tower
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Rock Idol by Veronica Tower
Red Rose™ Publishing
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Red Rose™ Publishing
Copyright© 2012 Veronica Tower
ISBN: 978-1-4543-0215-5
Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett
Editor: Zena Gainer
Line Editor: Bernadette Smith
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Rock Idol
By
Veronica Tower
Week One
“Ember! Smile for the camera!”
“Who’s the early front runner?”
“Will you make a prediction?”
“Ember! Look this way!”
Ember Blaze slipped out of the back of her limousine with an easy smile on her face. It wasn’t difficult. A lot of stars hated the paparazzi and their constant intrusions into their lives, but Ember had begun to enjoy the attention again in these past two years. It was the difference between good and bad press. After two decades of assholes fighting for a picture of her which made her look foolish or strung out without her makeup, she was glad to be getting some positive coverage again.
“Ember! How was Tahiti? Did you find a new man?”
Ember suppressed the instinctive urge to flinch at what she took as a reminder that the sharks were always ready to turn in a frenzy and feast. Instead she started up the walk toward the Atwood building and threw an answer over her shoulder. “Tahiti is always beautiful. I love it there.”
“What about the guy, Ember? Do you have a new boyfriend?”
She ignored the question. It truly was ridiculous. Dance with a man on two different nights and the world was ready to hear wedding bells.
“Who do you pick to win this year?”
Relieved to turn the mob back toward the positive, Ember paused to answer this one. “Now you know we judges don’t pick the winner on Rock Idol—the American people do.”
She started forward again.
“Ember!”
“Ember!”
Ember was close enough now to see her reflection in the glass doors ahead of her. She’d come a long way since her teen idol days and even further since her fall from grace. Gone were the skimpy skirts, golden bangles, and mile high afro of her youth. Now she wore far more elegant knee-length skirts, silk blouses, leather boots and tastefully restrained jewelry. She may have been hotter at seventeen but she honestly looked much better now at forty-two.
The uniformed doorman spoiled her image by opening the glass doors as she approached. “Good afternoon, Ms. Blaze. Don’t you look lovely today?”
“Good afternoon, George, and thank you,” Ember greeted him. The doorman had been a fan of hers twenty-five years ago and still lit up every time he saw her. If only the rest of the world was so easy to please.
Gina Hartley waited for Ember just inside the doors. The junior assistant to moneyman producer, Fox Atwood, had slightly lighter skin than Ember’s—creamy coffee as opposed to Ember’s rich mocha. Like the coffee Gina superficially resembled, she oozed warmth and comfort. “Ms. Blaze, I’m so glad you’re here. Mr. Atwood has called an emergency meeting of the executive staff before the meet-and-greet with the contestants later this afternoon. Everyone is waiting on you.”
Ember frowned. She didn’t like the facial expression. It intensified the lines in her face and added half a decade to her apparent age. Past experience had also taught her that one good picture of her frowning face could bring past charges of prima donna attitudes rushing back to the surface. But sometimes, unfortunately, it was impossible to censor an honest reaction. “Am I running late?”
Gina shook her head. “No, ma’am. Mr. Atwood didn’t decide to call the meeting until about thirty minutes ago and since everyone was already coming in for the meet-and-greet, there was no need to phone you with the change of plans. The contestants will just have to wait a few minutes to re-meet the men and women who sit in judgment over them.”
Ember nodded cautiously. She didn’t like unannounced meetings. She’d had bad experiences with them in the past.
“Shall we join Mr. Atwood?” Gina asked.
“Of course.”
Ember followed Gina to the elevator and up to the twelfth floor. Fox Atwood, the man who owned Rock Idol, was a Hollywood legend who’d made his fortune primarily from talent search programs and then managing the careers of the stars he brought to America’s attention. He’d been Ember’s manager two and a half decades ago. Going her separate way was one of the errors that led to her fall from grace.
Rock Idol was Fox’s current flagship with twenty-five million viewers on a bad week and three times as many on a good one. The show’s finale in the first two seasons had approached Super Bowl ratings and the pressure was on to achieve those results again. His other current shows, Wife Hunt, Race Car Alley, and Dance Mania weren’t nearly as successful as Rock Idol, but they still pulled in respectable numbers. After all, it was difficult not to take Atwood seriously when he’d discovered so many big names in the business—Greta Davis, Matt Bosworth, Serendipity, and of course, teen sensation Ember Blaze.
Half a dozen people already filled the Executive Boardroom including fellow judge, Fawn Fields—a singer with a more sedate but stable career than Ember had enjoyed. Fawn had never experienced the heady heights where Ember once ruled, but then she’d also never sunk so far into the depths of hell. Fawn was Rock Idol’s sweet judge with never a harsh word for a contestant. As a sadly predictable consequence of this attitude, she also never had any truly helpful advice.
“Ember,” Fawn greeted her, crossing the room to offer her a perfunctory peck on the cheek. At five-foot-two she was a little shorter than Ember but her anorexic blonde frame made her seem even tinier by comparison. “You’re here at last. Now Mitch’s ego will finally permit him to enter the room, and Fox can stop working and tell us why he called this meeting.”
“What’s all the mystery about?” Ember asked. “If I’d know about this meeting I could have rushed and gotten here ten minutes earlier.”
Mitch swung into the room behind Ember. He’d probably been sitting in one of the offices down the hall, watching for her arrival. “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he announced. “I couldn’t have gotten here any earlier today if I’d tried.”
Ember and Fawn both made a show of greeting Mitch. It fooled no one into thinking they were actually close, but it made Fox happy. Mitch Daniels produced several
of Fox’s talent labels. He didn’t quite have Fox’s keen eye for potential, but he had a wonderfully sarcastic wit, which had a very positive impact on Rock Idol’s ratings. It seemed that everyone in America loved to hate him.
Fox Atwood strolled into the room about five minutes earlier than Ember expected him. She wondered if that was a happenstance or a sign of how seriously he took this meeting. “I’m glad you’re all here. I want to make this quick and to the point. If you haven’t heard already, you’ll learn tonight on the entertainment news shows. I had to fire an assistant producer and a contestant on my show, Wife Hunt, yesterday. They were fooling around and well, especially on a show like that where true love is what we’re marketing, I simply can’t have it.”
Mitch shrugged. “Thanks for the heads up, old man, but what does that have to do with us?”
Fox glared at him until Mitch backed up half a step. Mitch had a notorious reputation for encouraging private interviews with pretty young women hoping to get on the show. It was obvious to Ember that Mitch was the whole point of the meeting.
“I’ve been thinking about this all last night,” Fox continued. “In the short run at least, the scandal is only going to help the ratings on Wife Hunt, but it’s already a risqué show. People tune in expecting to be titillated. Rock Idol and Dance Mania, however, are a different story. We market them as family entertainment and I want to keep it that way.” He looked directly at Mitch. “So let me be crystal clear about this. I don’t want to hear about any of you fucking the contestants! I’m not going to risk my audience because you can’t keep your pants or panties up.”
It appeared to Ember that Mitch found Fox’s warning more amusing than threatening. He’d been making his own rules for a long time. If he saw something he wanted, this little meeting wouldn’t stand in his way.
Ember was more surprised when Fawn spoke up. “Fox, I couldn’t agree more with what you’re saying. It’s unethical and just plain slimy for a judge to sleep with a contestant.”
“Don’t sleep, Fawn,” Mitch teased. “You’ll miss out on all of the fun stuff if you’re sleeping.”
Fawn ignored him. “But I’m not sure that it would have any impact on the show. We judges only critique the singers. It’s America that votes on who will move forward in the competition.”
“You’re wrong!” Fox said. “You judges have influence. I don’t want any viewer questioning whether your critique was affected by your feelings for one of the contestants.”
“So if we just keep our feelings out of it, we can fuck them to our hearts content?” Mitch asked. He couldn’t keep a straight face and burst out laughing.
Fox didn’t find the comment amusing. “Let me be completely clear about this. If you fuck one of the contestants, you’re fired. And for the Bill Clintons among you, let me clearly define the term fuck. Any physical contact between you and a contestant more intimate than a handshake or a kiss on the cheek will result in your termination. No warnings, no last chances. You’re gone, end of story. Does everyone understand me? Good. And that goes for all of the support staff too. I want a clean show this season. Let’s save the scandals for a time when we’ve lost our lead in the ratings.”
He looked each one in the eye to make certain they all understood him. “Now go meet and greet the contestants and Mitch, make sure you learn all of their names this time. It was really embarrassing last season when you got your name cards out of order and called Angie, Bob.”
Fox strode out of the room, leaving his judges and top staff looking at each other.
Mitch waited until the door closed behind him before adding one more comment. “Well, look at the bright side. We can still screw each other and the rest of the staff.”
Fawn scowled and walked off after Fox.
“They’re all so young,” Fawn whispered as they walked into the reception room.
“We were young once too,” Ember reminded her, but frankly, even in her teen idol days she didn’t think she looked as young as half of these kids.
“The youngest contestant is fifteen-years-old,” Gina informed them. “That’s her off to the side, Kim Ryan. Everyone else is at least eighteen. The oldest is Zach Donderhue at twenty-nine.”
“Donderhue?” Ember asked her.
Fawn nudged her with her elbow. “That’s almost as bad as Jasmine Jones,” she said.
Ember laughed but the words she spoke were completely true. “I hate it when people remind me of that name.”
Fawn laughed as well. “Don’t I know it! Remember, I was born Gladys Fargo.”
This confession made Ember laugh harder. “And the best you could come up with was Fawn Fields?”
“Look who’s talking, Ms. Blaze.”
“Hey, Ember Blaze was hot! I was hot!” A little girl’s voice inside her that had never quite accepted that her teen idol career was over protested, Hey, I’m still hot, aren’t I? I mean, yes, I’ve put on a couple of pounds but I still look good on the cover of a magazine. Men still want me, don’t they?
Ember ignored the voice. She got propositioned all the time. She might not be seventeen anymore, but men still wanted her.
“Here they come,” Fawn whispered and the horde of rock idol wannabes surrounded them.
“Ms. Blaze, it’s so good to see you again. I’m so excited to be part of this program.”
“Ms. Blaze, this is so exciting! I can’t thank you enough for giving me this opportunity.”
“Ms. Blaze, I’m simply thrilled to meet you! I grew up listening to Rock Me, Baby and You Make Me Feel So Hot,” the eldest contestant said.
Ember could have done without the reminder of her age, but at least Zach was a fan.
“Ms. Blaze, I thought you might like to shake the hand of the next Rock Idol. I’m Hillary Tempest.”
That earned the young woman a second look. Normally Ember liked to see confidence in contestants but something about Hillary’s arrogance wasn’t becoming. She had very pale skin and short spiky hair and where most of the contestants had dressed on the upside for the meet and greet, this woman had done the opposite—strategically torn jeans and a muscle tee without a bra. If she were trying to stand out in the crowd, she had succeeded. And the name, Tempest, that certainly had possibilities.
Ember decided not to come down hard on her. Part of what the contestants were learning was how to work the business off stage and this was just an opening party. She smiled in what she knew in her heart was a patronizing fashion. “I think your competitors might have something to say about that.”
Tempest’s superior smile just struck Ember wrong. “You might as well send them home now. Thirteen weeks of competition will just fuel their disappointment.”
Ember decided to move on. “I’ll be sure to let Fox know you think he should cancel the season,” she said.
Another contestant offered her his hand. “I doubt you remember me, Ms. Blaze, but I’m—”
“Rick Rogers,” Ember finished for him. She’d always been good at connecting names and faces and this young man had such a great smile, she remembered him easily from the tryouts three months past. What she couldn’t remember was the city they had seen him in.
“I’m impressed,” Rick said. “Of course everyone remembers you.”
But who do they remember? Ember wondered. The teen idol that won the Grammy? The loser who lost her marriage and destroyed her first career? Or the new, more sophisticated Ember who was the darling of the talk shows and a judge on Rock Idol? Not that she would ever let any of those concerns escape into the open air. “They’ll remember you too, sweetie,” Ember promised him. “All you have to do is flash those baby blues and pearly whites for the camera for the next few weeks and all the girls in America will be talking about you.”
“It would help if he could learn to sing a little too,” Mitch added as he butted into the conversation. “Let’s see now, I’m really not that good with names but you tried out at our New York City audition, sang an absolutely terrible rendition of
Brown Sugar, and got voted in over my protests by two women who should be old enough not to get weak in the knees when a young man smiles at them.”
Rick’s beautiful grin faltered.
“What? Did I get something wrong?” Mitch asked.
“No, I…” Rick fumbled for a moment when he obviously realized that agreeing with Mitch’s assessment was an insult to Ember and Fawn. “No, what I mean to say is that I’m not in a position to say why Ms. Blaze and Ms. Fields—”
“It’s Ember and Fawn, sweetie,” Ember told him. “It’s all first names from here on out.”
He flashed that smile again. Mitch was right. It really was dangerous and damned if Ember didn’t feel just a touch weak in the knees. “Thanks, Ms. Bl— I mean, Ember.”
He turned back to Mitch. “What I meant to say was that I’m surprised you’re so blunt with your comments in private. I sort of assumed that that was something you saved for when you’re on stage.”
“Oh, no, sweetie,” Ember said. She slid her arm across his muscular shoulders for a moment. “Our Mitch tones it down on stage. Here in private we get the real uncensored thing.”
“That has to be one of the most pathetic opening numbers in this show’s three seasons,” Mitch announced. He wasn’t toning anything down tonight, despite what Ember had said earlier.
Standing in front of the judges on the stage, Rick Rogers wilted. The sexy grin that Ember liked so much cracked and then froze, losing the vitality that made it stand out in the crowd.
“I mean what do you call that sound you were making?” Mitch asked. “It certainly wasn’t singing. I think it would be kind to call it an off-key warble.”
Rick continued to stand there, shocked and embarrassed, frozen grin slowly taking on a rictus appearance. The whole audience felt sorry for him. It was the one positive effect of one of Mitch’s tantrums—it usually produced a significant sympathy vote for the victim.
Rock Idol (Reality With a Twist Series) Page 1