But just as I was turning toward the exit, one of the judges said, “No, wait. You come back here.” Of course I didn’t think they were talking to me—I was sure they were calling out to one of the other people in my group. I turned around and said, “Meeee?” I was just hoping that I hadn’t done anything wrong! Then they all looked at me, each one with their own version of a poker face, and said, “You’re going to the next round.” My heart dropped, my eyes widened and my palms started to sweat. I knew there were like fifty thousand people auditioning; and only two or three hundred people were given tickets to the next round. Beyond thrilling.
When I walked out of the audition room with my golden ticket in my hand, there was applause. I saw people who had stood in line with me and they were so happy for me. They told me they knew I was going to pass. I don’t know how they could have, but it was nice to feel supported—even if they were still a bunch of strangers.
I felt a swirl of emotions that included happiness, confusion and total shock. For the first time in years I had a feeling of wholeness, a sense that I was starting to reconnect the dots of who I really was, and what I really wanted to do. I felt like myself again, complete once again, doing what I loved most.
That night in the hotel, I was online chatting with Lundy, one of my friends back home. He had also been at the youth conference and had heard that I was auditioning, which kind of infuriated me, because I really didn’t want to come back to Utah with my tail between my legs. The fewer people who knew, the better. I may as well shoot this thing down early, I thought to myself, so I decided to tell him the whole story about my day at the stadium, leaving out the small detail that I’d gotten a golden ticket. I simply told him that the judges stopped me in the middle of my song—which wasn’t a lie, right? In general I don’t like to be deceitful, but I wanted everyone to assume that I didn’t pass the audition. You can call it a case of “expectation management.” I saw it as critical. That was my story, and I was going to stick to it.
“Meeee?” I was just hoping that I hadn’t done anything wrong!
When we flew back to Utah, right after we landed my father dropped me off at a friend’s house, where a bunch of us were going to watch Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Lundy was there, and of course, he couldn’t help himself. “Hey, everyone, guess where David just came from!” he proudly told the whole crew. “He auditioned for American Idol, but he didn’t make it.” This was received with a lots of “awww”s from the rest of my friends, but I was thrilled. This is good, I thought. No one needs to know. Since they all felt bad for me for “not making it” they also didn’t want to talk about it too much so that I wouldn’t be upset. Little did they know that I was slated to head back to San Diego for the next round of auditions in September. But for the time being, school was about to start again, so I tried to keep the focus on that and not get too excited about my secret. By mid-August it was time to enroll and during that time one of my close friends, Jayme, asked me to the dance that was coming up in a few months. I really wanted to say yes to her, but I also knew that there was a tiny chance that I wouldn’t be around because of American Idol, so I wasn’t sure how to handle the whole thing without blowing my cover. Since she was a good friend, I took her aside when we were at registration and told her everything. Now she and Mietra, another close buddy, were the only two friends who’d heard the news directly from me. I made them promise not to tell anyone, and even though they were so excited for me, they were both incredibly respectful and discreet about it. I was so happy that I could trust my friends, and I have to admit it was kind of nice to know that they were on board with me. In the end, I was even able to go to the dance with Jayme, because it was during one of the rare moments in the course of the Idol adventure when I was home.
San Diego was the first of all the cities where they held auditions, and for the next month or so, they would head to the rest of the cities to make more selections. My second audition in San Diego would be for a group of producers. For this September round of auditions, they would also start interviewing me about my life and background. My biggest concern now was that I wouldn’t be interesting enough. I mean, what could I really say, that I was in the high school choir? Yippee. Big deal. I felt that I didn’t have a real story to tell. And the one thing the interviewers kept telling us was to not say anything about how much we loved music, because they explained that that’s what everyone said, and they wanted us to all come across as individually as possible. I was mostly at a loss for words, but I remember talking to them about running, because that’s something I was doing a lot of at the time. I talked about my summer job, and I talked about how watching Les Misérables as a kid really got me into music. I talked about my family and growing up in Florida, but beyond that I couldn’t come up with anything else that was interesting about me. I didn’t even know if I should talk about Star Search or not, worried that it was a competing show; and besides, that was a few years ago and the second year I didn’t do very well anyway. I just didn’t know what to say.
For that round, I sang “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” and managed to get to the next round, which was just two days later. Now it was time to sing for the executive producers. I chose to sing “I’ll Be” again, and again they asked me to sing something else. So I went back to “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” which had seemed to go well in the previous round. As I was singing, the executive producers stopped me. They said that I seemed to be gasping a bit for air, and that I sounded like I was slightly wheezing. I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up on that, and explained very matter-of-factly that one of my vocal cords had been paralyzed a few years back. I had put that out of my mind over the years and it just wasn’t something that I was thinking about anymore. The moment I said the words “vocal paralysis,” they all looked at one another. At first I thought I’d blown it by telling them, but then it became pretty clear that as producers, they were seeing a story here. I hadn’t said anything about it in the interviews because it just wasn’t something I dwelled on, and it obviously wasn’t something that I liked to think about, especially on an audition for American Idol. But now these executives wanted to hear every little detail about it.
I hadn’t checked my vocal cords in years, not since that first time when I was on Star Search. I didn’t know if my condition had improved from a clinical point of view; I just knew that I felt better and wasn’t suffering as much when I tried to sing for a long time. But I never really knew how long my voice was going to last. I was just kind of taking a chance. I was going with the flow. Remember, I didn’t go on the audition to get onto the show; I just went to see what it would be like. I wasn’t expecting it to go very far. I definitely didn’t think I would make it on the show long enough to have to sing every week! I didn’t know what my voice could really handle, but I told myself that if I made it this far, I should just keep testing the waters. After I explained myself to the execs, they told me that I was the best male vocal they had heard all day. I think they were as stunned by my story as I was by their reaction to it.
After passing these third and fourth rounds for the producers and executive producers, I would finally get the chance to sing for Simon, Paula and Randy. I was beyond terrified. It was one thing to sing for these guys in the lobby of the Renaissance Hotel back when I was a little boy. Now, even though I was older, I felt tiny in their presence. Each round had demanded that I face my fears not only in front of the judges but so many producers and fellow contestants. The whole exercise had been a test in emotional endurance. I always thought that each round would for sure be my last, and I definitely didn’t have any far-fetched notions or fantasies about getting on the show. Also, I wasn’t the most stylish guy at the time, so I didn’t even know what I was supposed to look like when I went in there. I was used to wearing baggy clothes and didn’t understand the concept of boys wearing clothes in a small size. But what did I know? Luckily, Mietra and Jayme helped me pull something together back in Utah before I left. An
other friend came to the mall with us that day, and he kept asking why I needed all these new outfits. I didn’t want to tell him, so I just said that I was on a mission to improve my style. Before I actually went in to sing for them, I sat around in a waiting room all day just practicing with headphones on. I was mostly trying to listen to songs that would calm me down. I chose John Mayer’s “Waiting on the World to Change.” At this point nothing felt real anymore. It all felt like an animated film or something, because everything that was happening was so out of the ordinary for me. I went into it thinking that all I could do was my very best, and swore to myself that I wouldn’t be too hard on myself if something went wrong. Actually, I didn’t expect it to work out, and everyone knows it’s always a lot easier when you go into something with low expectations. This attitude had worked for me in the past, so I figured it would come in handy now. I just didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment.
My biggest concern now was that I wouldn’t be interesting enough.
The audition itself happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think. It all felt so surreal with the cameras and those hot lights shining directly into my eyes, completely blinding me. I knew the judges were all looking at me, but I could not see any of them. It almost felt like I was singing into a vacuum. Everything in front of me looked cloudy, like some sort of dream state, or like I was staring straight into the center of the sun. It was only when I heard Randy chime in, actually singing along with me, that it hit me again that I was actually singing for the American Idol judges!
“You’re going to Hollywood,” they said, and for the first few moments I couldn’t believe it was true. I thought I was being punk’d! I was sure Simon was going to say something bad, because I even messed up the words. But instead everyone was extremely positive and seemed to be genuinely pleased with what they heard. Simon even said that it was a good song choice, and they collectively gave me three yeses, which really surprised me because I thought for sure at least one of them was going to say no. I couldn’t understand it: How could they not pick up on how nervous I was? How could they not see right through me? Didn’t they hear me mess up the lyrics? Apparently not, because I left that audition room with a golden ticket in my sweaty hand.
The next day, I woke up thinking, Did that really just happen? Did I really just pass the audition for Simon, Randy, and Paula? This kind of thing doesn’t happen to people normally. At least not to me. I don’t think I knew how to feel. Grateful, yes; but totally shocked at the fact that I had gotten this far, and terrified about continuing to compete at this level.
“Hollywood Week” was in November, which meant I would have to leave school once again. By this point, no matter how much I tried to stay quiet about my American Idol secret, it became useless. There were many people who, in addition to being my friends, were also big fans of the show, and they were keeping up with the audition process online. They started to notice that I was always taking off mysteriously close to when the next round of auditions was taking place, so of course they started to get suspicious.
Auditioning in front of Paula, Simon, and Randy for American Idol
For the next month or so we were back at home preparing for Christmas and trying not to think too much about things that were out of our control with the show. I would imagine they would watch our tapes and interviews and assess us one more time before they decided who would make it to the Top 24. They told us to come back to L.A. at the end of January. It all started to feel more official, more serious. I’m sure all the contestants could feel this for what they called “The Green Mile,” which was when we’d learn who they had chosen.
If you could believe it, I still didn’t want to tell anyone about what was happening, maybe because I myself had a hard time believing it. It seemed that the farther along I got, the more I wanted to downplay the whole thing. I didn’t want to create a frenzy among my friends, especially since I was in high school. You know how teenagers can be about things. I wanted to find a way to enjoy the process while at the same time keeping my cool.
But there was only so much “information wrangling” that I could do, because in December they aired a commercial with people who passed the first auditions, so people were completely shocked when they saw me in a TV commercial for the seventh season of American Idol. I got more text messages after that commercial aired than I had ever received altogether.
Around this time I was in a singing group in school with some of my friends, and we sang at church and other local events for fun. One day I was driving to a rehearsal with my friend Ashley, who was in the group and knew nothing of my recent adventures in auditioning. I heard the chime signaling I’d gotten a text message, and since I was driving, I asked Ashley to read it. It was from someone who had just seen me on the commercial, completely freaking out. Ashley read it and proceeded to freak out herself. “What!!!??? You didn’t tell me!” She was out of control.
From that point on, the news started to spread and there was nothing I could do but accept it. Word was out, and I figured if I was going to be big enough to show up for the Green Mile decisions, I would have to be big enough to accept all that came with it.
To add to the stress, I had heard all the horror stories about Hollywood Week. Everyone always said it was a nightmare, loaded with pressure, tension, and all kinds of anxiety. I remember on past seasons during Hollywood Week, you would always see contestants crying and freaking out. I was sure this would be the end of the line for me.
For Hollywood Week, we would each sing two songs alone on the stage for the judges, but this time we would all watch one another perform. We had to sit in assigned seats in the theater according to the order in which we’d sing. Any contestants who were minors, such as myself, had their parents sitting in a special area designated for guardians. The show producers were running a pretty tight ship, that’s for sure. We were instructed not to talk about anything that was going on, because it all had to be kept in total confidentiality, but of course there were people who would sneak around and blog or text their friends and fan Web sites with the scoop about what was happening.
Sitting to the left of me was Ramiele Malubay, which was cool because she also ended up getting to the Top 10. To my right was Amanda Overmyer, who also made it to the Top 12. She was kind of a rocker/biker girl and she really cracked me up. She was so cavalier, just sitting there reading her book. “You’re a lil’ sweetheart!” she said to me. I got a huge kick out of her, and she definitely made the waiting process that much more endurable.
We had been told to pick and learn one song from a list that we were given a few weeks earlier, and to figure out what key we were going to sing in. We decided at home to have a few songs ready, and even one that I could play on piano which I really didn’t want to do but I finally agreed to at least learn it just in case. At first I chose “(Everything I Do) I Do it for You”; then it struck me that a lot of other people were singing it, so I thought I’d change my strategy. I had actually worked out an arrangement for it on the piano after a lot of prodding from my dad, and as I wanted something more interesting for the moment of truth, I went with “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley and decided to play it on piano despite how nervous I was about playing while I sang. This was a whole new thing for the show, because it was the first season in which singers were allowed to play instruments, which to me instantly raised the bar. I practiced the whole night before on a little rollout keyboard that I’d brought with me. We had a brief rehearsal with the vocal coaches and piano accompanists, and most of the people singing “Crazy” were just doing it with the accompanist. A few others sang it while playing the guitar and I was the only one accompanying myself at the piano.
On the first day, which was a Tuesday, everyone was to sing what they had practiced from the list, and if you made it past that round you automatically got to skip the next round on Wednesday—they called it a “free pass.” If you didn’t pass, you’d get a second chance on Wednesday to sing just fifteen to twenty
seconds of a song. Although I was excited about the whole idea of performing solo in front of the judges, I was so nervous about playing the piano while singing that I had to have a quick little prayer to help me remain calm. Well, it worked!! Thankfully, I was spared because I made it through on the first day when I sang “Crazy.” Appropriately enough, the whole thing was beyond crazy. I remember thinking that Simon was going to say it was terrible, because just like the first time, I messed up the words and I didn’t think they would tolerate that kind of sloppiness at this point in the audition process.
But instead, Simon said: “I think. . .that was incredible!” When I heard those words come out of Simon’s lips, of course my heart leaped. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I just stood there with sweaty palms and my heart racing probably faster than I have ever felt it race. I felt cold and hot at the same time, and my entire body started to tingle. I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating or if what had just come out of Simon’s mouth was actually real. I didn’t even know if what had come out of my mouth when I sang had been any good or not. But when I saw Paula, Randy and Simon all looking at me with smiles on their faces, I knew I had to say something.
“What??? . . . Oh . . .” That was my brilliant response. I couldn’t believe it had gone that well; I wasn’t expecting them to even like it. What I do know for sure is that when I sang that song, my heart was 100 percent into it. I guess that came across because they all said it was one of the best male vocals they had heard all day. This was an important moment for me, not just for the obvious reasons, but also because their unexpectedly positive reactions gave me the push of confidence that I would need to move any farther along. I could step up to whatever challenge was coming with the knowledge that these people liked what they heard. That was definitely enough to get me started.
Chords of Strength Page 10