by Honest Lee
Preeya instantly remembered why she kept her singing talents hidden—because she had terrible stage fright.
She dropped the microphone, ran off stage, and never came back out.
CHAPTER 5
Dev
Dev ran up to Lucy and waved his fingers in front of her face. “Check it out,” he said. “Pretty amazing, huh?”
“What am I looking at?” Lucy asked.
“My fast fingers,” Dev said. “I’m the best video game player on this side of the planet. Can you make me famous now?”
“What else can you do?” Lucy asked.
“Um… I can play piano.”
Dev took a seat at the classroom piano and began playing. He was so good, it brought tears to Ms. Linda’s eyes. It turned out that years and years of playing video games had made Dev’s fingers incredibly strong, fast, and agile. (He also happened to be a musical prodigy.)
“Now we’re cooking.” Lucy smiled. “I’m thinking Carnegie Hall.”
Dev auditioned, and the classical music judges wept. They agreed to let him play every night of the week—for the rest of his life.
To keep his fingers as nimble as possible, the Ace Agent Agency hired a piano coach. He was an old Russian man named Vladimir Vliolin, and he had a reputation for being strict.
How strict? Well, for starters, Vladimir told Dev he was no longer allowed to play video games.
“WHAT?!” Dev asked, freaking out. “But games are my life!”
“No. Music is life now! Your precious fingers must rest when they not play piano,” Vladimir insisted. “Video games in zee trash!”
So Dev did the sensible thing.…
“I quit,” he told Lucy.
“But you haven’t even played one show yet,” she growled. “Your music career hasn’t even started! You’re not even technically famous. And most important, I haven’t gotten any money yet!”
Dev didn’t care. Not when the hottest new game of the year was waiting for him at home. Tonight would be an all-night gaming marathon of Teddy Bear Bashers: Space Capades 2: Comet Cubs. He cracked his fingers and stretched. Being famous just wasn’t as fun as playing video games.
CHAPTER 6
Yuna
Yuna did not want to be famous. Ms. Linda told her cousin this, but Lucy LaRoux didn’t believe it. She said, “Everyone wants to be famous for something!”
Yuna wrote on a piece of paper and held it up. It said: I DON’T.
“Come on, kid,” Lucy LaRoux said. “Don’t play games with me. What do you want to be famous for? Tell me!”
Yuna scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Lucy. This is what her note said:
.EM OT NOITNETTA DETNAWNU GNIWARD ERA UOY .ESAELP YAWA OG WON .SKNAHT ON .HAEY OS .TUO SI YTIRBELEC A GNIEB SNAEM TAHT .EM EZINGOCER NAC ENO ON ,YAD ENO YPS DOOG A EB OT GNIOG MA I FI DNA ,YPS A EB OT TNAW I .YLLAUTCA ETISOPPO EHT ETIUQ TNAW I .SUOMAF EB OT TNAW TON OD I
Lucy threw her hands up. “Fine! Then I give up!” As she wandered away to find a student who did want to be famous, Yuna sat back and smiled.
CHAPTER 7
Benji
Benji got dressed up for his meeting with Lucy. Instead of just wearing the clothes he came to school in, he slipped out to his locker for an outfit change. When it was his turn, Lucy found him sporting head-to-toe “football” gear.
Benji spit out his mouth guard and said, “I love two things: unicorns and football. But since there’s already a world-famous unicorn, I want to be a famous football player!”
“But you’re not wearing a football uniform.” Lucy snorted. “You’re wearing a soccer uniform.”
Benji rolled his eyes. “Americans call it soccer, but the rest of the world calls it football. FIFA stands for Fédération Internationale de Football Association. One day, I dream of playing in the FIFA World Cup.”
Lucy checked the calendar on her phone. “We better hurry, then. The World Cup is this weekend.”
That weekend, famous agent Lucy LaRoux escorted Benji to Brazil for the final games of the tournament. Tens of thousands of soccer football fans sat in sold-out arenas, anxiously awaiting the first kick.
Lucy used her Ace Agent Agency connections to get Benji on the roster and in the game. He was now playing for Brazil. When Benji ran out onto the field, his heart swelled with pride. Sure, Benji didn’t have muscle, skill, or years of soccer football experience—but he didn’t let that bother him. He was about to play professional ball with his heroes.
As the Germans (the opposing team) took the field, they looked at Benji. Some laughed, others growled, and one said, “You’re dead meat.”
Benji gulped.
His teammates gave him a look of concern. The central midfielder said, “Good luck, kid.”
As the referee blew the whistle, the game began. After almost two whole minutes playing the game, the striker kicked the ball to Benji. This was the happiest moment of Benji’s young life.
And that was the last thing Benji remembered before everything went black.
Benji woke up in a hospital in a head-to-toe full-body cast. Little Benji got destroyed out there. That’s what happens when an untrained kid gets stomped by hundreds of pounds of professional German soccer players footballers.
He broke nearly every single bone in his body. So why was he smiling? His team had won. And since he was technically on the team—even if only for one hundred and twenty seconds—they let him have the trophy. It shined brighter than anything he’d ever seen.
CHAPTER 8
Mason
“I want to be a famous actress!” Mason said. Mason was very good at sports. But he wasn’t so bright.
“You mean an actor,” Lucy said.
“No way. Actresses get all the best roles and win big awards. That’s what I want,” Mason said.
“But you’re a boy,” Lucy explained to Mason.
“So?!” Mason said, offended. “Boys can be actresses, too!”
Lucy shrugged. “Fine. Let’s get your headshot.”
Mason ducked under his desk. “What?! Don’t shoot me!”
“No, a ‘headshot’ is just a picture of your face. All actors—and actresses—have them. I send them out to different studio people. Whoever likes your headshot invites you to try out for a role.”
“I like bread rolls,” Mason said, “with lots of butter.”
“Right,” Lucy said.
Mason wasn’t the smartest (or sharpest) tool in the shed, but he was photogenic. As soon as Lucy sent out his headshot, he got invited to try out for over a dozen TV shows.
Unfortunately, Mason couldn’t act his way out of a box. And I mean that very seriously. On his first audition, he got stuck inside a box for thirty minutes and couldn’t find his way out.
“Just take the box off your head!” Lucy snapped. She was very frustrated.
At Mason’s next audition, he got stuck in another box. At the third TV set, he followed a cat into a box, and they both got stuck. Some of the film crew started shooting videos of Mason. They couldn’t stop laughing.
“This is hilarious!” one of the camera people said. “This should be on the Internet.”
This gave Lucy a great idea. She put Mason on the Internet. He was going to be huge. They’d give him his own channel. Maybe they could call it Box Boy.
At the end of the week, Lucy called Mason. “I’m afraid I can’t represent you. You’re just not fame material. You only got fourteen views on social media. That’s less than my goldfish.”
“Fourteen views,” Mason said. “Fourteen views on the Interwebs?!” He started jumping up and down and screaming. “I’m famous! I’m famous. Four. Teen. Views! Mom, I’m a famous actress!!”
“Of course you are, dear,” his mom said.
Lucy hung up the phone.
CHAPTER 9
Isabella
Isabella was very strong. Not normal strong, like kids who like to play outside or exercise. I mean action-hero strong. I suppose that’s what
happens when you spend all your free time at the stables, wrangling wild horses and riding bulls.
“I want to be a pro wrestler,” Isabella told Lucy.
“I like it! Girl power!” Lucy said. “Have you thought of what your wrestler name will be?”
“They’ll call me DIZZABELLA—because I’ll hit you so hard, I’ll make you DIZZY!”
“All right! Time to wrestle some money into my bank account!” Lucy said before quickly correcting herself. “I mean, your bank account! We’re doing this for you. Um, let’s go!”
To protect her identity (and hide the fact that she was a minor), Isabella wore a luchador mask—a colorful disguise made famous by wrestlers in Mexico and other Spanish-speaking countries.
The Ace Agent Agency arranged Dizzabella’s first match against Body Slam Sam. When Dizzabella entered the ring, people laughed at her small size. Body Slam Sam was more than five times bigger than her.
But once the bell rang, it didn’t matter. Dizzabella slapped Sam silly and then body-slammed him so hard, he farted a hole right through his wrestling shorts. The crowd was now chortling at him.
When the bell rang, Dizzabella could hardly believe she’d beaten the farts out of a three-hundred-pound muscleman.
“Wow, that was… easy,” she told the TV cameras.
“You heard it here first, folks!” the ringside reporter told TV viewers. “Dizzabella says destroying Body Slam Sam was easy!”
After her surprise win, the Pro Wrestling Association invited Dizzabella to compete in the championship match against undefeated champ Dr. Dynamite, the circuit’s baddest bad boy. The match took place in Las Vegas, in an arena of fifty thousand wrestling fans—and eleven people who just happened to be there for the all-you-can-eat pancake buffet.
When she heard the bell, Dizzabella charged. She went with the Mongolian forehead chop. It barely grazed Dr. Dynamite, yet he crashed to the ground. “Please don’t hurt me anymore, Dizzabella! Please!” he begged.
Dizzabella looked at her hands. Was she that strong? She paused for a moment, thinking of how odd it all was. This weakling is the world champ, she thought. Earl the Hamster is tougher than this clown.
Wrestler after wrestler, she defeated with ease. But with each win, she began to suspect something wasn’t right—she just couldn’t place her finger on it.
Before she knew it, the title bout was down to Dizzabella and her personal wrestling hero, Mountain Man Maniac McGee. There was no way she could take him down. He was a giant!
But Dizzabella had her eyes on the prize: the golden championship belt. If she wanted to wear it, she knew she had to keep fighting.
As soon as the bell rang, Dizzabella used the ropes like a slingshot to fling herself forward. She missed Maniac McGee on the first pass, but she climbed the ropes, did a corkscrew shooting star press, and knocked him so hard that he spun over the ropes and crashed facedown into the maple syrup bucket at the buffet line. He was knocked out cold.
The entire audience stood and cheered. Except for the eleven people who were just there for the pancakes. They were upset about the spilled syrup.
The announcer held Dizzabella’s arm up in the air and proclaimed, “Your new heavyweight champion of the worrrrrrld: DIZZABELLA!!”
They gave her the giant gold belt. It was the happiest moment of her life. So why was something bothering her?
Lucy pulled her backstage. “You did great, kid! We have endorsements coming out the wazoo!”
“I can’t believe it was so easy to beat Maniac McGee,” Dizzabella said.
“I can,” Lucy said. “It’s all fake! There was no way you were going to lose!”
“WHAT?!”
“All that body-slamming and kicking? Fake. The tension between rivals? Fake. Heck, even this gold belt? Fake! The winners are all decided beforehand. Good thing they picked you to win, huh?”
Isabella couldn’t believe the whole thing was staged. She felt like such a fraud. She wanted to win for real, not for fake.
So she body-slammed Lucy. For real.
CHAPTER 10
Santiago
You’re probably wondering why Santiago’s finger fell off. I’ll tell you.
Most of the time, Santiago was sick, sneezing, snotting, and snoring all over the place. But for once, he woke up and felt great. The medicines his doctors prescribed hadn’t worked, but his grandma’s famous chicken soup sure had. His recent flu/cold/allergy thing was finally gone.
“I’m actually hungry today!” he told his mom. “Can I have a sandwich instead of soup today?”
“Of course,” his mom said. “Give me just one minute, and I’ll make it for you.”
“I can make it!” Santiago said.
“Why don’t you let me make it?” his mom asked. “Your father just had the knives sharpened the other day, and they’re very sharp.”
“I’ll be careful,” Santiago said.
Except that he wasn’t careful. He was watching TV while he made his sandwich. So when he went to cut the crust off his sandwich, well…
…instead…
…he cut off…
(you know)
…HIS FINGER.
Ouch.
Don’t worry. They sewed it back on. It’s as good as new. Except for the uncontrollable twitching—which makes picking his nose very difficult.
CHAPTER 11
Sophia
Sophia is a tree hugger. That means she hugs trees. Literally.
But she also protects them. And not just trees, but animals and oceans and grass and pretty much anything on the planet that is natural.
So when Lucy asked her what she wanted to be famous for, Sophia smiled wide and said, “I want to save the planet.”
“I like it,” Lucy said. “Go with it!”
The Ace Agent Agency drove Sophia to a local construction site where they were tearing down a forest to put up a new business building. When Sophia saw this, she was furious. She shouted, “What did these woods ever do to you?!”
Sophia was so angry, she chained herself to the trees. “You can’t knock down the rest of the forest without running me over. So take that!”
Within an hour, every news crew in the state had showed up to interview Sophia. “I just want to help clean up the world,” Sophia explained. That night, she let all the air out of the tractor tires.
“I was expecting a peaceful protest,” Lucy said, “but this works even better.”
Next, the Ace Agent Agency flew Sophia to an oil field where they were drilling for oil. Once again, she chained herself up. This time, she yelled, “Quit stealing from the earth!” Once again, the news crews showed up to interview her. And that night, she gunked up all the drills with lots and lots of chewing gum.
After that, the Ace Agent Agency boated her to a fishing village, where she put on a scuba suit and chained herself to the fishing boats. “Leave the little fishies alone!” she shouted. News crews came again. With so many cameras watching her, Sophia felt something snap! Overcome with rage, she sank the fishing boats. And it was all caught on film.
The next morning, Lucy called her up and said, “Great news on the news! You’re famous! They’re calling you the Eco-Warrior.”
Sophia read the headline:
ECO-WARRIOR TERRORIZES LOCAL FISHING TOWN. SINKS BOATS AND PUTS WORKERS OUT OF WORK.
“Oh no,” Sophia said. “I didn’t mean to make people lose their jobs!”
“But it’s helping the planet!” Lucy said. “You want to help the planet, don’t you?”
“I guess so,” Sophia said, not so sure.
“Well, people all over the world are looking to you for the next step in saving the planet. I’m thinking Eco-Warrior T-shirts and Eco-Warrior posters and… how about an Eco-Warrior Million Person March?! You can march to the nation’s capital and demand better treatment of plants.”
“If it will help the earth…” Sophia said.
So the next week, Sophia arrived in Washington, D.C., by helicopter.
There, she led a Million Person March to save the planet. But as the millions of people marched toward the Capitol, Sophia saw they were trampling the grass.
“Walk on the sidewalks!” Sophia shouted, but no one heard her. They were protesting too loudly.
By the time the millions of people had finished their march, they had killed the grass and left a trail of trash behind them.
“What have I done?!” Sophia yelled in anguish. For the next several weeks, Sophia cleaned up the trash, replanted every blade of grass that had been destroyed, and told Lucy she quit. She tore up her contract—and then recycled it.
CHAPTER 12
Ethan
Famous agent Lucy LaRoux was annoyed with these kids quitting on her. She didn’t understand how wanting to lead a happy, normal life was more important than money. It was a ridiculous notion. She took a deep breath and went to the next student.
Now, if you know Ethan, you know he has a hard time making up his mind. When he found out he could be famous for something, he immediately thought of two different things but couldn’t decide which.
“I either want to be a basketball player or a daredevil stuntman,” Ethan explained to Lucy. “What do you think I would be better at?”
“Seriously?” Lucy asked. “Um, neither. You’re in a wheelchair.”
“EXCUSE ME?!” Ms. Linda and Sophia and Benji and Isabella and Mark roared at Lucy at the same time. They all crossed their arms and glared at her in outrage.
“Ethan can be anything he wants to be!” Ms. Linda said.
“And he can do anything he wants to!” Sophia added.
“You’re a horrible person,” added Benji.
“I agree. I am horrible!” Lucy smiled. “That’s what makes me such a good agent. As for you, Ethan, let’s go with daredevil stuntman. Show me what you’ve got.”