Pop Princess

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘Cat Kennedy,’ called Paul.

  Cat squeezed my arm. ‘Nice knowing yus, amigo,’ she said as she left to take her place at the front.

  The roll-call continued and I realised they were doing it alphabetically. They got to the M’s, but didn’t call Jade Macey. She’d get through, surely. And the girl that hit the bum notes in my group was one of the ones called forward. Ohmigod, did that mean I was through again? I felt like my brain was going to fuse. Maybe? . . . Maybe not? . . . Maybe? It would be fantastic. But then that would mean that Cat didn’t get through. Not so fantastic. The suspense was unbearable. When Paul had reached the final name, Martin got up.

  ‘As Paul said,’ he started, ‘we’ve seen some amazing talent here today. It’s been really hard coming to a decision. But after seeing you all today, it’s become clear that some of you definitely are not our Pop Princess, some of you gave borderline performances, and some of you were terrific. But a Pop Princess can never be borderline. You could never describe Madonna, or Kylie Minogue as borderline. They’ve got the X-factor and you know it. So the group at the back . . .’ He paused and looked towards the back of the stage. My heart sank. So I hadn’t got through. Then Martin smiled and went on,’. . . well done. We’re going to ask you to come back tomorrow, 9 a.m. sharp. The group at the front, I’m afraid we won’t be asking you back, but thanks for coming and well done everybody.’

  There was a huge sigh of relief from the back, then cheers as girls started jumping up and down and hugging each other. I went straight over to Cat and gave her a huge hug.

  ‘God. Sorry, Cat,’ I said.

  She shrugged. ‘I kind of knew I wouldn’t get through. I knew I was crapola today. You know it in your bones when it’s not your best. But hey, well done, you.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess,’ I said. But somehow it didn’t feel like last time when we’d got through together.

  ‘WHERE’S JADE?’ I asked early the next morning when I walked into the kitchen.

  ‘In her room,’ said Mac. ‘She’s about to leave, so I said I’d take you if you want to grab a bit of toast or something.’

  ‘Yeah, best to eat something as you’ve got a long day ahead,’ said Cat. ‘I’ll come with you as well. Mac and I are going to go down to Spitalfields Market.’

  ‘God, I wish I could come with you,’ I said. ‘I’d love to go there.’

  ‘And I’d love to be coming with you,’ said Cat, putting a piece of bread in the toaster. ‘Now do you want to run through the song they gave you one more time?’

  ‘Nah, I’ve been thinking about it all night. I haven’t slept a wink, hardly. I kept dreaming I was doing exams but hadn’t done any revision. Then I dreamed I was standing on stage naked. Honestly, this was supposed to be fun, but it’s turning out to be even worse than school.’

  The twenty-five girls chosen to go back the next day had all been asked to stay behind for five minutes after the judge’s verdict then we’d been given song sheets to learn overnight and have ready for the morning. I’d been given ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ by Bette Midler and I felt overwhelmingly nervous.

  ‘Well, what did you expect?’ said Jade, coming in behind us. ‘I don’t even know why you bothered coming up this time, Becca. Mac told me you only did it because Squidge dared you. Some other girl who was serious about it could have had your place instead of you wasting the judge’s time.’

  ‘Oh, leave off, Jade,’ said Cat. ‘Loads of people entered, for all sorts of reasons. And Becca wouldn’t have got this far if she wasn’t good.’

  ‘Well, that’s a matter of opinion,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I’m off. See you there if you can be bothered to turn up.’

  ‘See you,’ I said, then thought, And thanks so much for all the support and encouragement. I’d been ready to be really sympathetic today, as I felt sorry for her, having to go out for dinner with her dad the night before. Not because he was going to be introducing his new girlfriend, but because I knew she had a song to learn as well. I’d been lucky, I had Cat to help me go over mine and an empty flat to practise in while Mr Macey, Jade and Mac were out. Jade went into her room to rehearse the minute she got back and I could still hear her every time I woke up from my bad dreams, so she can’t have got much sleep either. Maybe that was why she was double ratty.

  ‘Take no notice of her,’ said Cat after Jade had left. ‘She’s probably feeling threatened because you are good and she knows it.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘At least you believe in me. I’d far prefer travelling with you two to getting slagged off by her for the whole journey.’

  After a quick bite of toast and some tea, we set off for the tube station. I looked at my watch. We had an hour, plenty of time to get to Tottenham Court Road, as the journey only took about half an hour.

  ‘So, new girlfriend?’ I asked. ‘Any more thoughts this morning?’

  ‘I’ll see how it goes,’ said Mac. Last night he’d seemed reticent to say much when he got back, and I didn’t want to push him. Mac wasn’t someone you could make talk if he didn’t want to. He opened up when and if he was ready.

  ‘Well, I hope you were nice to her,’ said Cat. ‘I bet it was hard for her too, meeting your dad’s kids.’

  ‘I was polite,’ said Mac.

  ‘She probably just wants to get on with you,’ I said. ‘I think you should give her a break.’

  ‘Hmphh,’ said Mac.

  When we got to Highgate tube, the next train wasn’t for fifteen minutes.

  ‘Bugger,’ said Mac. ‘I should have remembered. Trains are always less frequent on a Sunday. That’s probably why Jade went early; she must have remembered and didn’t want to take any chances. Shouldn’t be a problem, though. We’ve still got time.’

  I tried to make myself relax and mentally ran through the words of the song as we waited. Then Cat made me do Zac’s ‘shake it out’ routine which got a few funny looks from some of the people waiting at the station. Thankfully, the train arrived when it was supposed to and we all got on.

  ‘We’ll make it,’ said Mac, glancing at his watch, ‘so you can chill out now.’

  Phew, I thought, at last we’re on our way. I’ll get there just in time.

  Then the train stopped at Camden.

  ‘Oh God, what’s happening now?’ I asked after we’d been sitting there for a few minutes.

  ‘This train is no longer in service,’ said an announcement. ‘All change please. If you are travelling further south, go to the Charing Cross branch and continue your journey from there.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ I asked Mac as we got off the train.

  ‘It means we run like hell through the tunnel,’ said Mac setting off at a pace. ‘The other line.’

  He began to run up some steps so we followed him, then through a tunnel and down some more steps.

  ‘Next train in eight minutes,’ I said. I checked my watch. ‘Oh God, it’s a quarter to nine. I’m going to be late.’

  ‘We might just make it,’ said Mac, but even he was beginning to look worried. ‘The Northern Line. Londoners call it the misery line – now you know why.’

  I arrived at the hall at twelve minutes past nine.

  ‘We’ll meet you outside later,’ Cat called after me as I hurried inside.

  The foyer was deserted, so I ran towards the hall. As I pushed the door open, everyone turned to look, including Martin Riley. And he didn’t look pleased.

  The boys and girls were in separate halls again and the judges split their time between the two.

  By mid-afternoon, I’d had enough. Martin definitely had it in for me. After a dressing down for being late, in front of everyone, he’d taken every opportunity to slag me off.

  10.00 a.m.: ‘You sound like you’re singing along with the radio.’

  11.10 a.m.: ‘It’s all on one level, Becca. Start quietly, build. Put some emotion into it. You sound like you’re singing, “I had eggs for breakfast”. It’s that boring.’

  12.00 p.m.: ‘Brea
the, Becca, breathe.’

  1.30 p.m.: ‘Nah, not good enough, start again.’

  2.15 p.m.: ‘You’re holding yourself too tight. Relax, let it come from your abdomen, not your throat.’

  3.00 p.m.: ‘Come on, Becca, impress me.’

  I got worse and worse as the day progressed and by the end I had the confidence of a timid amoeba. On the other hand, the real stars were beginning to stand out. Jade performed brilliantly, as did an Indian girl called Sushila, and a small blonde girl called Fizz.

  ‘They’re going to let another twenty go today,’ whispered a blonde girl as we went to stand around a piano to sing with accompaniment for the fifth time that day. ‘Ten boys and ten girls.’

  ‘Good,’ I whispered back. ‘I hope I’m one of the ones they let go.’

  She gave me a strange look, but I meant it. I could have been out having a good time with Cat and Mac all day, but instead I was locked in a strange hall with a load of people I didn’t know, being put through physical and mental torture. We’d had to sing solo, sing in groups, sing solo again with the piano . . . I was tired and hoarse and my feet hurt like hell from a dance session with a choreographer in which we had to prance about to ‘It’s Raining Men’. It wasn’t fun any more. I felt so alone. Although Elliott had got through, I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, as the boys were shunted off into another hall to perform. I looked for him at the lunch break, but he was busy with a group of lads, practising for the afternoon.

  At the afternoon break, I took an apple juice from the table, then I looked for Jade, in the hope that she’d have chilled out since the morning. She was at the back of the room with Fizz and looked like she was having a great time practising the dance steps we’d been taught in the morning. Of course, she had them down to perfection. I went and collapsed in the corner of the room to call Cat on my mobile.

  ‘Hey, Pop Princess,’ said Cat, when she answered her phone. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Get me out of here,’ I said.

  Cat laughed.

  ‘No seriously, it’s awful here today. Torture. Where are you?’

  ‘We’re in Camden Lock,’ said Cat. ‘It’s fantastic, amazing. We did Spitalfields this morning, and caught the tube back up here. You’d love it. It’s buzzing.’

  ‘I’ll be there in half an hour. Where should I meet you?’

  ‘Why? Has it finished already?’

  ‘No. But I have Cat, I’ve had it.’

  ‘You’ve been voted out?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So why do you want to leave?’

  ‘I told you, it’s torture. I can’t do it, Cat, and that Martin Riley’s got it in for me.’

  ‘Just a mo, Mac wants to know what’s happening.’

  The phone went quiet for a moment and I could just about hear Cat saying something to Mac. He came on the phone a moment later.

  ‘You must be out of your mind,’ he said. ‘You’ve got this far – you can’t give up now.’

  I felt like crying. ‘But you don’t understand . . .’

  Cat came back on the phone. ‘Why do you want to leave, Becca? You were so into it all before.’

  ‘I know, but there’s loads of people here who are better than I am. And I’m having a horrible time. I know I won’t win, so why not quit while I’m still ahead.’

  I could hear Cat sigh heavily at the other end of the phone. ‘Typical,’ she said. ‘This is so totally typical of you, Becca.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Giving up the minute things get hard. Well, I think it’s rotten of you. You’ve got a real problem – you know that, don’t you? You can’t see how good you are. It’s only your fear that’s holding you back. Fear of failure, fear of rejection. You’ll never get anywhere if you give into it all the time.’

  I was taken aback. I’d never heard Cat cross at me before. ‘Well, it’s not just that,’ I said. ‘I don’t know any one here . . .’

  ‘You know the gorgeous Elliott, go and talk to him.’

  ‘Who’s Elliott?’ I heard Mac ask in the background.

  ‘He’s been busy all day,’ I said. ‘And it’s like, me and you, we were in this together and it was all a laugh, but now you’re out and . . .’

  ‘Don’t use me as an excuse, Becca.’

  ‘I’m not, Cat, honest. It’s not an excuse. And you don’t know what it’s been like today. Why put myself through more misery when I know I don’t stand a chance?’

  ‘You do stand a chance, Becca. You’re good and you just might win if you stop this whingeing.’

  I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. ‘You just don’t understand, Cat,’ I said, then I hung up. I felt really miserable. I thought at least my friends would understand.

  I reached into my rucksack to find a tissue and when I looked up, Elliott was coming over to join me. I took a big sniff and smiled so he wouldn’t see that I’d been near to tears. He flopped down beside me. ‘Rough day, huh?’

  I nodded.

  ‘I think loads of people are ready to drop out,’ he said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. When the going gets tough . . . et cetera.’

  ‘Yeah, the not-so-tough get going,’ I said. ‘Me included.’

  ‘Feeling down?’

  I nodded. ‘This place is freezing and I’m so tired.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone slept. That’s why everyone’s feeling so fragile and it doesn’t help that the judges are coming down really heavy on everyone today.’

  ‘Tell me about it. That Martin Riley’s been horrible to me.’

  ‘Not just you, Becca. Everyone. See, I reckon what they’re doing today is testing our staying power. I mean, this is for real. Whoever wins is going to have to be serious about it, not flaky. So I reckon that’s why they’re pushing everyone today, to see who will crack and who can go the distance.’

  Suddenly I remembered what Dad had said. ‘Success is fifty per cent talent, fifty per cent perseverance.’

  ‘Right,’ said Elliott. ‘Anyway, got to go practise. Catch you later.’

  I took a look around the hall. It was true. Everyone did look shattered, not just me. And it had helped talking to Elliott. I felt myself starting to get fired up again. So, they were testing everybody, were they? I’d show them who was flaky and who was not. I got up to go and splash my face with cold water.

  In the loos, I found Sushila in tears.

  ‘Hey,’ I said and went over to put my arm around her.

  ‘Sorry,’ she sniffed. ‘Just . . .’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Tough today. But don’t let it put you off. I was just talking to a mate and we reckon that today’s all about seeing who’s going to crack. Don’t let them get to you. You were great up there this morning. You really stood out. All you have to do is get through another hour and it’ll get better.’

  ‘You reckon? I’m just about ready to walk,’ she said.

  ‘I was too. But let’s show them we’re made of stronger stuff, eh? You’re good – you can’t give up now.’

  She gave me a weak smile. ‘Thanks. And I thought you were good as well – loads better than some of the others. I’m Sushila, by the way.’

  ‘Becca,’ I said and remembered another of Dad’s inspirational lines. ‘My quote for the day is “Fortune favours the brave.” So come on, let’s get out there and strut our stuff.’

  The rest of the afternoon flew by. When the judges said something critical, I didn’t take it personally – it spurred me on. I listened, but instead of thinking, Oh no, they think I’m crapola, I thought, OK, how can I use that to improve my performance? Ha, I am professional, I thought, not a dreamer, or a flaky flake. I can do it.

  At the end of a group session around the piano, Sarah Hardman pulled me to one side.

  ‘Well done, Becca,’ she said. ‘I’ve been watching you and you’ve done really well today. I know Martin’s given you a bit of a rough time, but you haven’t let it get to you. And don’t be afraid of t
he criticism; it’s to help, not to hinder. It’s got to a lot of people today and they’ve gone under. Three people have dropped out already. Understandable, but I say there’s no crime in falling, only in refusing to get up again. And I saw you get up a few times after Martin had his say. That’s just what we’re looking for. Being a Pop Princess isn’t all about glamour. Whoever wins may get knocked by the press, the public . . . It can all turn from nice to nasty in an instant and we need to know that our winner can take it.’

  When I heard later that I’d made it through into the last fifteen girls, I felt fantastic. Nothing is going to stop me, I thought. I’m going to go for this. I’m going to show them all. Cat, Mac, Jade, Mum, Dad, Mr Walker . . . I may be a dreamer, but I’ve got what it takes to make a dream come true.

  MAC HAD been in a sulk for days, partly because he knew Elliott had been phoning every day to see how things were going – no matter what I told him, Mac wouldn’t believe that Elliott and I were ‘just good friends’ – and partly because he’d been in a funny mood ever since London. Meeting Sonia, his dad’s new girlfriend had given him a bit of an abandonment complex, even though no one was planning on deserting him. Certainly not me and, I’m pretty sure, not his dad.

  ‘I’m not going to go off with Elliott,’ I tried to reassure him when he came over on Christmas Eve to give me my present. ‘For one thing, he lives in Manchester, and for another, you’re my boyfriend. But if you keep acting so jealous for no reason, you’re going to drive me away’

  It was obviously the wrong thing to say because it made him sulk even more and he went off in a huff before I’d had time to open my present or give him his. Good job, really, because he gave me the latest chill out CD, exactly what I’d got him. At least it gave me the chance to swop presents and labels around, so he’d get the Eminem CD that I’d bought for Squidge instead.

  Mac had written ‘To my top Pop Princess’ on the label of my present. It was a shame he was weirded out because he can be so sweet when he wants to be. I’m beginning to understand why mega-stars have difficulties with relationships. It’s because their partners don’t trust them when they’re out meeting new glam people all the time. I hoped I wouldn’t have to resort to buying a dog for company, like some celebs do in their ‘lonely’ phases . . . although, on second thought, maybe a dog is a good idea. They’re always pleased to see you and are less trouble than boys, as you don’t have to explain yourself to them all the time. But I wasn’t ready to give up on Mac just yet. I decided I wouldn’t let him sulk for long, I’d just give him a little space, then go to his place and win him over.