Ugh, I thought, looking down at my cell phone. So far, three precious hours of my first day in California had been wasted sitting in a small, stuffy waiting room at Hollywood Records. By eleven am, the heat that morning was record breaking, and Los Angeles was slowly recovering from a blackout that had struck most of the city.
My guitar sat in its case on the floor beside me. I’d had it perfectly tuned this morning. But, like my hair, I had a feeling that the humidity was doing a number on my baby. Thin rivers of sweat ran down the back of my shirt, and I could see the hair at the back of my neck starting to curl. I could feel my frustration building. Musicians are some of the laziest, most self-involved creatures on the planet, and once they even think that they have achieved even the tiniest bit of recognition, forget it. I knew the Jonas Brothers were going to be huge jerks.
Not only was I sweating, I was exhausted. My flight had arrived from Boston at 10pm the night before, and that was before I realized that half of my luggage had not made the entire voyage with me, so I had to deal with that before finding the right airport shuttle that would bring me to a neighboring hotel. The hotel, where I’d had reservations for months, had lost my reservation, so I was forced, at one am, to call a cab to bring me to the next nearest hotel. It turned out to be this totally swanky hotel that was way out of my price range but I was so exhausted I handed over my shiny new credit card and was on my way to the most amazing pillow-top bed with a soft down comforter, where I slept like a baby. For about three hours, when I had to get up and get ready for this audition, and navigate this stupid city, full of rude plastic people.
I pulled my light brown hair back into a messy ponytail, my bangs falling into my face. Not my best look, but it was better than having stringy sweaty hair.
Finally a young girl with huge teeth and a fake tan told me I could go in for my audition, and she led me out of the room, down a hallway. I wondered what everyone else who had auditioned before me looked like. It seemed like everyone in LA was so perfect! I reminded myself not to be nervous. This was my dream, and it was finally coming true. I was going to be a real musician.
I walked into the room, and saw 5 men, and feeling pretty intimidated, I forced myself to fake confidence and a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Kaylen!” I chirped, before anyone could say anything. “Sorry I’m so sweaty, but it’s super hot out there! This is nothing like Maine, where I’m from!” Oh great. There I go. I can never shut up when I get nervous. These guys had probably never even heard of Maine.
“Hey, I’m Joe, and these are my brothers Nick and Kevin,” one of them finally said. They seemed a little dumbstruck by my speech. The guys nodded and smirked at me. My heart sunk. I had been right: major jerks.
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kay guyz, there's the first chappy! sorry it's a little short but there most definitely maybe another chappy up tonight. tell me whatcha think!
