singer that has ever graced this stage. Promise me that you’ll give it your all and that you won’t think about this place or me for even a second.” Her eyes are firm and trained directly at me.
“I promise,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.
“Good. Now get rid of the rest of the empties before you make me smear my mascara. You know I hate smearing my mascara,” she says as she fights her own tears. “Besides, you still have to tell me about your favorite pick-up line of the night.”
Note to self: Don’t forget to breathe. Because when all else fails you, breathing may be all you have left.
I have this eerie sense of Déjà vu as a black town car drives me towards the BLVD Hotel. This time around, I share the vehicle with a girl who looks to be all of fourteen, a guy who carries his guitar around like a baby, and a hipster who smells like pot. And I’m stuck riding bitch in the backseat between the young girl with a cell phone permanently molded to her fingers and the guy who reeks like he smoked a fatty in the airport bathroom. Awesome.
The only silver lining is that there’s a slim chance that I’ll have to share a room with Shawna again. With forty-seven other contestants, I’d say I’m good to assume that I’ll be roomies with any other woman on the show. I mean, what are the odds, right?
After checking in at the front counter, we all make our way up to our respective rooms in the same section of the hotel. Since teenie bopper continues down the hallway in search of another room, it’s safe to say that I won’t be sharing a room with her.
Maybe I’ll be rooming with Corie? We kept in touch through email and text over the past two months, and I’d definitely be happy to bunk with her.
I slide the keycard into the door and give the nob a turn. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hear in an all too familiar voice as I push aside the heavy door.
Note to s elf: I f it wasn’t for bad luck, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have any luck at all.
“Shawna. We meet again,” I mumble while staring down my arch-nemesis. After a two second stand-off, I drop my luggage on the floor in front of the first bed.
“That one is yours. I’m not sleeping next to the bathroom this time since you were in and out all night long the last time. Is your bladder the size of a pea?” she asks with a huff and a flip of her perfect blond hair.
“My bladder is perfectly normal.” I think.
I begin the unpacking process while doing everything within my power to ignore my roommate. I admit that it’s hard, though, when a cloud of perfume and hairspray follows her wherever she goes. And it’s not like the hotel room is that big or anything. The bathroom or the closet is the only place to grab peace and quiet here.
When my bags are empty and stacked within the small confines of the closet, I glance through the paperwork I received at check-in. Dinner tonight is at six o’clock and will be followed by drinks in the lounge downstairs. Then, tomorrow begins with scheduled coach’s sessions.
Round one pins each contestant against another on the same team chosen by the coach. This round is more duet style as each pair sing together with only one being chosen to move on to the next round. Round two will showcase each remaining singer as an individual. However, at the end of the team performances, each coach will choose their top three performers, as well as choose one from the pool of the other castoffs from the other coaches. This gives each coach four contestants.
The third week starts the actual voting round where contestants perform for votes from the viewers. The more votes you have, the better shot you have at making it to the next round. The performer with the least score at the end of the voting period will go home.
The coaches don’t actually vote. They are here as mentors and will be responsible for picking out the songs that each performer will sing. They will sit at the end of the stage as
“I promise,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.
“Good. Now get rid of the rest of the empties before you make me smear my mascara. You know I hate smearing my mascara,” she says as she fights her own tears. “Besides, you still have to tell me about your favorite pick-up line of the night.”
Note to self: Don’t forget to breathe. Because when all else fails you, breathing may be all you have left.
I have this eerie sense of Déjà vu as a black town car drives me towards the BLVD Hotel. This time around, I share the vehicle with a girl who looks to be all of fourteen, a guy who carries his guitar around like a baby, and a hipster who smells like pot. And I’m stuck riding bitch in the backseat between the young girl with a cell phone permanently molded to her fingers and the guy who reeks like he smoked a fatty in the airport bathroom. Awesome.
The only silver lining is that there’s a slim chance that I’ll have to share a room with Shawna again. With forty-seven other contestants, I’d say I’m good to assume that I’ll be roomies with any other woman on the show. I mean, what are the odds, right?
After checking in at the front counter, we all make our way up to our respective rooms in the same section of the hotel. Since teenie bopper continues down the hallway in search of another room, it’s safe to say that I won’t be sharing a room with her.
Maybe I’ll be rooming with Corie? We kept in touch through email and text over the past two months, and I’d definitely be happy to bunk with her.
I slide the keycard into the door and give the nob a turn. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hear in an all too familiar voice as I push aside the heavy door.
Note to s elf: I f it wasn’t for bad luck, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have any luck at all.
“Shawna. We meet again,” I mumble while staring down my arch-nemesis. After a two second stand-off, I drop my luggage on the floor in front of the first bed.
“That one is yours. I’m not sleeping next to the bathroom this time since you were in and out all night long the last time. Is your bladder the size of a pea?” she asks with a huff and a flip of her perfect blond hair.
“My bladder is perfectly normal.” I think.
I begin the unpacking process while doing everything within my power to ignore my roommate. I admit that it’s hard, though, when a cloud of perfume and hairspray follows her wherever she goes. And it’s not like the hotel room is that big or anything. The bathroom or the closet is the only place to grab peace and quiet here.
When my bags are empty and stacked within the small confines of the closet, I glance through the paperwork I received at check-in. Dinner tonight is at six o’clock and will be followed by drinks in the lounge downstairs. Then, tomorrow begins with scheduled coach’s sessions.
Round one pins each contestant against another on the same team chosen by the coach. This round is more duet style as each pair sing together with only one being chosen to move on to the next round. Round two will showcase each remaining singer as an individual. However, at the end of the team performances, each coach will choose their top three performers, as well as choose one from the pool of the other castoffs from the other coaches. This gives each coach four contestants.
The third week starts the actual voting round where contestants perform for votes from the viewers. The more votes you have, the better shot you have at making it to the next round. The performer with the least score at the end of the voting period will go home.
The coaches don’t actually vote. They are here as mentors and will be responsible for picking out the songs that each performer will sing. They will sit at the end of the stage as
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