Pop Princess

by Cathy Hopkins

  Mum was in a sulk with me too on Christmas day, because I wouldn’t have roast potatoes with our Christmas dinner, nor any pudding, which she said she made with extra pecans and cherries especially for me.

  ‘You’re going to waste away if you don’t eat properly,’ she said.

  No point in saying anything, I decided as I picked at my turkey. She just doesn’t get it. If I want to win this competition, I have to lose half a stone at least. All the other finalists, except for one tubby girl, are stick insects. Pop icons are skinny and wear really tight jeans, often with their belly buttons showing. I knew I had to be skinny.

  So far, I’d lost two pounds and I’d put all my Christmas chocolates away until the competition was over, when I could get together with Cat and Lia for a chocfest. At least Dad understands, I thought – not so much about losing weight, but about needing to be serious about the competition. No one could be more serious than he is about succeeding. He’s still working away on his novel.

  The rowing was still going on, though. It was awful. I could hear them sometimes when they thought I’d gone to sleep and it was always about the same thing. Money, money, money. Poor Dad. It was supposed to be the season of goodwill and Mum wouldn’t get off on his case.

  Cat came over in the evening. She was in a sulk with me too, but mainly because I’d been slightly in a sulk with her since that talk in London about never seeing anything through. It’s hard staying mad at Cat, though. She was right, anyway. I made it one of my New Year’s resolutions to take criticism on the chin, as long as it’s constructive. And besides, Cat bought me a gorgeous black strappy top for Christmas, perfect for wearing at the next round of the competition and loads nicer than the glitter bath gels I gave her. I hadn’t had much time to shop, as I’d been busy rehearsing. I’d gone to Plymouth with Mum on one of her grocery buying trips and done it all in one mad dash so I could get back to practise.

  ‘Should I do one of the songs I’ve written for the next round?’ I asked.

  ‘Nff-NO!,’ said Cat through a mouthful of mince pie.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Er, um, best to stick to songs that are well-known. Um . . . like, remember that guy – I think his name was Darius – anyway, he was on one of the earliest pop star programmes and he wanted to do his own thing and the judges didn’t appreciate it, said he was corny. He got the message to “play the game” and he came back and did really well in another show. It was only later he had his number-one hit with his own song. No, Bec, you’re better off singing songs they recognise.’

  I decided to let it go and not take offence, but I had a sneaky feeling that Cat didn’t think much of my lyrics. Perhaps she’s right again, I thought. Best to stick to what the judges know, as there’s standing out in a good way and standing out in a naff way, and I don’t want to do that.

  Lia and Squidge had both been really cool since London. They came over on Boxing Day and I was really touched by their Chrissie presents.

  ‘Wow,’ I said as I opened the envelopes they gave me and found two crisp ten pound notes. ‘Cash.’

  Lia smiled. ‘I know it’s a bit boring, but we knew that you probably need some money for your next trip to London. Don’t want it to be a problem with your parents again.’

  ‘No, wow, thanks,’ I said. ‘No, this is top. exactly what I need, because I’ve spent all the Christmas money I had left from Mum and Dad on buying all my presents for you lot. Luckily my gran and grandad sent me some dosh, but with this as well, it shouldn’t be a problem at all.’

  ‘So when are you off next?’ asked Squidge.

  ‘Weekend after New Year.’

  ‘Have you decided what song you’re going todo?’ asked Lia.

  ‘I thought I might do “Endless Love” or “Total Eclipse of the Heart”. What do you think?’

  ‘“Endless Love”,’ said Lia.

  ‘“Total Eclipse”,’ said Squidge at the same time.

  I laughed. ‘Thanks. Or how about I combine them into “Endless Eclipse”?’

  ‘Sing both of them for us,’ said Squidge, ‘then we’ll vote.’

  I stood up and sang both songs for them.

  They looked genuinely impressed. ‘Wow,’ said Squidge when I’d finished, ‘you’re getting really good. You’re loads more confident now.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Lia, ‘really good.’

  I smiled, ‘Thanks. So which one?’

  ‘“Total Eclipse”,’ said Lia.

  ‘“Endless Love”,’ said Squidge.

  I laughed. ‘Oh, that’s really helpful.’

  In the end, we went over to Cat’s house and gave her the casting vote. I think she was quite chuffed that I did value her opinion. She decided on ‘Endless Love’. And she lent me a pair of diamond stud earrings that her mum gave to her before she died, to wear for luck. Lia lent me a pair of strappy shoes to wear. ‘More glam than trainers,’ she said. I have the best mates, I thought, they’re being really brilliant. I just wished that Mac would chill out and be happy for me as well.

  For the rest of the week, I practised every spare moment I had. When the others were off somewhere hanging out or watching films, I stayed home and rehearsed. When I wasn’t rehearsing, I jogged to get fit, so that I could keep up if they made us do any more dance sessions. I drank loads of water to make sure my skin was good. And I made sure I got to bed reasonably early every night, so I looked youthful and fresh. It’s a full-time business, aiming for the top.

  My parents didn’t know what to think. I don’t think either of them had ever seen me work so hard, but I knew the next round would be the toughest. There were fifteen girls and fifteen boys left in the competition and the judges were going to lose five of each.

  ‘I think it’s great that you’re really going for this,’ said Dad one afternoon when I took him a cup of tea in his study. ‘But I’m worried that you’re going to take it hard if you don’t get through – you know, after having come so far.’

  I read him the quote he had on his wall. ‘A man’s reach should exceed his grasp. Else what’s a heaven for? That’s your favourite, isn’t it?’

  That silenced him and he gave me a hug. ‘I’m very proud of you,’ he said, ‘and will be, whether you win or not.’

  Actually we’d had a few brilliant conversations since London. He understood about going for what you want and I was feeling really close to him. I grew to admire him a lot. He’d had a lot of setbacks, like I did from Martin Riley, but he kept getting up and trying again and again.

  On New Year’s Eve, I went over to Mac’s. I was determined to get him smiling again. It was freezing outside and even looked like it might snow, but I wrapped up warmly, then cycled over and threw a stone up at his window.

  ‘I’ve come to serenade you,’ I called up when he opened the window.

  He laughed. ‘Like Romeo and Juliet?’ he asked. ‘But isn’t it supposed to be me down there and you up here on a balcony?’

  ‘Hey,’ I said, ‘this is the twenty-first century. Things change.’ Then I sang ‘Endless Love’ for him. It was hysterical, because Jade opened her window as well, but shut it as soon as she heard it was me, then the neighbour’s dog came and sat on the lawn next to me and joined in, barking away with great enthusiasm.

  Mac was killing himself laughing. ‘Enough, enough,’ he said. ‘I’ll come down and let you in.’

  He let me in and I followed him up the stairs to his room. ‘So, do you think I stand a chance?’ I asked.

  ‘Always did,’ he said, going into his bedroom and lying back on his bed. ‘But I’d lose the doggy accompaniment. I tell you something, Becca. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You do stand a chance. I always thought you had a cracking voice, but, well, if you do win, you might not enjoy it as much as you think you will. Like, already you’ve changed. I never thought you would, but you’re getting like Jade lately. This whole thing, it’s become more like an obsession than a dream, for both of you. You don’t want to hang out any more, you�
��re always rehearsing, it’s all you ever talk about. The rest of us have still got lives and stuff going on, you know.’

  I felt hurt. ‘I know. And I know I haven’t exactly been around. But this is important.’

  ‘And we’re not?’

  ‘The others don’t seem to mind,’ I said. ‘And it’s only for a few more weeks.’

  ‘Yeah, we’ll see. And what if you win?’

  ‘It’d be great.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t,’ he said. ‘It’ll be more and more of the same. You’ll change, your life will change. Some old Pop Idols were being repeated the other night and it was obvious to anyone with half a brain who came out as the real winners.’

  ‘Yeah. The real winners usually stand out a mile.’ I said.

  ‘No,’ said Mac. ‘Think about it, Becca. They were just like pawns in a chess game. They have no control. They’re being moulded and shaped, told what to sing, what to say and what to wear by the record companies.’

  ‘Yeah. But a professional makeover. I’d love it. In fact, I think the stylists are coming in next time.’

  Mac shrugged. ‘If you want to be a puppet in someone else’s show, then go right ahead. But the ones that make all the money and have all the say are the producers and the management team, not the artists.’

  ‘It’s not like that, Mac,’ I said. ‘You don’t understand.’

  Mac’s face clouded. ‘And Elliott does, I suppose,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, actually he does,’ I said and headed for the door. I had been planning to drag him off to Squidge’s to meet up with the others to see the New Year in. But come midnight, no way was I going to snog such a cynical old misery.

  I THOUGHT it was all sorted. Got the song. Got the dosh. Got a place to stay . . . or so I thought until Mac put a spanner in the works.

  ‘But I thought it was all arranged,’ I said when he phoned the Thursday before I was due to go up to London. ‘I go up with you and Jade with your mum again and . . .’

  ‘I know. But . . . well, it’s got complicated. Apparently Sonia has a daughter Tamara and she’s going to be staying at dad’s. I told you this would happen. I’ve read about it. Parents get divorced, one has a new family and they become more important . . .’

  ‘But you don’t know that. Did your dad actually say you couldn’t stay?’ I asked. I couldn’t believe his own dad would stop him from visiting.

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Mac. ‘That is, well, he does want me to go, said he wants Tamara to meet me and Jade. But he can stuff it. I’m not going to go and be all pally and big brothery with someone I don’t even know. I don’t want to hang out with some eight-year-old kid, or her mother. Hopefully this thing with Sonia will run its course and she’ll clear off so we can get back to normal.’

  ‘And what if she doesn’t?’ I asked. ‘What if they, like, really make a go of it? You’ll have to get to know them sometime.’

  ‘Yeah, well, not going. Sorry. No way José,’ said Mac. ‘But I did ask if you could stay even though I won’t be there, but apparently Jade has told some other girl from the competition – Tizz or Fizz or somebody, I think her name is – that she could stay, so there isn’t room.’

  I could feel myself starting to panic. What was I going to do? I had to get there, even if it meant sleeping on the streets.

  ‘Maybe I could get a lift up with Jade and your mum anyway, then I’ll try and find a B&B or something. Mum and Dad needn’t know. If I told them I wasn’t staying with you, they might stop me going, so . . . oh pants. I could still get a lift, couldn’t I?’

  ‘Er, well, that’s the other thing,’ said Mac. ‘Mum’s not driving Jade up. She’s gone already; Mum put her on the train this morning and Dad’s meeting her at the other end. God, I’m sorry, Bec. I know I was heavy the other night, but I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t plan it or anything. I feel rotten for you.’

  He did sound genuinely bad about it so it was hard to be cross. I’d save that for Jade. I wouldn’t put it past her to have invited Fizz to spite me and ruin my chances.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mac,’ I said. ‘I’ll sort something out.’

  ‘But you can’t stay in a B&B on your own, Becca,’ he said. ‘You said your dad’s been great. Ask if he’ll go with you just this once.’

  I sighed. ‘Not after this morning, I don’t think.’

  ‘Why? What happened this morning?’

  ‘I came down to breakfast and Dad was wearing a suit.’

  ‘So?’ said Mac.

  ‘A suit, Mac,’ I said. ‘He’s gone for a job interview. Some crapola job in a college that he doesn’t even want. It’s just to keep my mum happy and stop her nagging him. He looked so sad. I felt awful for him. It’s not what he wants. He’s given up. That’s another reason I have to go and do this competition – to remind him of everything he’s told me over the last few weeks. Don’t give up, don’t give up, don’t give up.’

  ‘OK then,’ said Mac. ‘I know it will be difficult, but call Jade this evening and ask if you can kip on the floor with Fizz. She can’t possibly be so hard-hearted to say no. I mean, you are all in this together. Or do you want me to ring and try again?’

  ‘No, no,’ I said. ‘I’ll think of something and if I do have to ask Jade, better that it comes from me.’

  At first I thought, No way I’m going crawling to Jade, but as the day went on, I realised it was my only choice. I’d have let her stay if I had a dad in London, even though we didn’t get on. It was either call or not go, so I bit the bullet and dialled the number.

  ‘Oh, but slight problem, Becca,’ she said after I’d eaten humble pie. ‘See, Fizz will be here and there’s really not room for both of you as well as Sonia’s kid.’

  ‘But couldn’t you just squeeze me in? Please. I’ll sleep in a corner somewhere.’

  ‘Er, just a minute, Becca. Just got to do something,’ said Jade, then the phone went dead. Maybe she’s changed her mind, I thought hopefully as I waited for her. A moment later, I heard a click and Jade came back on the line.

  ‘I wanted to ask you something,’ she said. ‘Just between you and me. I don’t really know this Fizz girl very well and she’s coming here to stay and everything. You’ve seen her about. Do you think it will be OK? What do you think of her?’

  ‘I don’t really know,’ I said, wondering why she was asking me of all people and why she was even having Fizz to stay if she was having doubts about it. ‘I don’t really know her.’

  ‘Yeah, well what do you think of her chances, you know as, Pop Princess?’

  It was the first time Jade had asked for my opinion about anything to do with the competition so I took a moment to think about it. Knowing Jade, she’d want me to say something about her standing more of a chance than her new friend. Maybe if I played along, she’d let me stay.

  ‘I think she has a really strong voice,’ I said. ‘Yeah, I think she stands a good chance, but she’s not as good as you.’

  ‘But do you think she looks the part?’ asked Jade.

  That I could answer easily. I had noticed Fizz because of her voice, but she wasn’t exactly gorgeous; in fact, she was a bit weird-looking in a Marge Simpson kind of way.

  ‘I think she needs to make more of herself image-wise,’ I said. ‘I think they’re looking for a Pop Princess in every way, you know . . .’

  ‘What do you mean?’ urged Jade.

  ‘Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though it shouldn’t matter, I think it does, and she’s not as good-looking as some of the other entrants.’

  Suddenly a girl’s voice came on the line and it wasn’t Jade. ‘Oh, and I suppose you are?’ she said.

  ‘Who’s that?’ I asked, thinking it might be Tamara who’d picked up the other line.

  I heard Jade laugh. ‘It’s Fizz, dummy. She’s been listening on the extension the whole time.’

  I was aghast. ‘That’s really mean, Jade.’

  I would never have said anything if I’d
known Fizz was actually there. It was bad enough that Jade had it in for me, but another contestant hating me as well, that was all I needed.

  I put the phone down and stared out of the window. Now what? I thought. What am I going to do? Nowhere to stay, no lift and two contestants who would be more than glad if I didn’t make it up there at all.

  I picked up the phone again and dialled Elliott’s number. Maybe I could stay with him.

  ‘’Fraid not,’ he said after I’d filled him in. ‘The whole family is down this time, to do the post-Christmas sales. Don’t you know anyone else? You must know someone in London. You can’t not come.’

  I racked my brains after I’d put down the phone. Who? Then a thought struck me. Ollie went to school up there. Maybe I could sneak into his dorm and sleep under his bed. But no, he was away on his skiing trip and his school would be closed. Maybe Lia’s sister. Would Star be back from her holiday in Bermuda? My hopes rose again and I picked up the phone to dial Lia’s number.

  Half an hour later, it was all sorted again. Phew. Lia’s dad was going to drive up to London as he wanted to see Star, and even better, Lia was going to come as well. Once again I thought, Never, never, never give up.

  Staying at Star’s was the best thing ever. Her flat is exactly how I want mine to be when I leave home. It’s on the first floor of an old house in Notting Hill Gate and although it’s tiny, it’s mega-glamorous, like walking into a luxurious Sheik’s tent. She’d painted it all soft lavender and cornflower blue and there were gorgeous Indian fabrics everywhere – soft muslins at the windows, silk cushions and throws. And on every wall were framed magazine covers with pictures of Star. She’s worked as a model for all the glossies and is absolutely stunning. Like the rest of her family, she has a perfect heart-shaped face and amazing cheekbones – only her hair is cut short and spiky, unlike Lia’s.