IDOL PRIZE

Chapter 1

“You’ll never make it out alive….”

Andy Kim fought to keep from rolling his eyes as his mom belted out the chorus to the title track from Casey Danger’s latest album, One Woman Show. He could never in a million years understand how Grace Kim had somehow become a country music fan. He’d grown up in Sacramento, too–born and raised just like her–but had somehow avoided that particularly gruesome fate. He’d take a sick, saucy dance beat over reedy vocals and a twangy, steel guitar any fucking day. At least she didn’t seem to mind the music he danced to. That would’ve made the previous eight or so years almost unbearable. Still, if she’d had her way, he’d most likely be headed for a flight to Nashville instead of Seoul. He chuckled at a sudden vision of a wardrobe filled with giant cowboy hats and shiny belt buckles.

“Does my singing bother you that much?”

Andy shifted his attention to his mom, her manicured hands loosely gripping the wheel as she bobbed her head to the beat of Casey’s song on the radio. Most people said he looked more like her than his dad, but he wasn’t so sure. He definitely had her sharp eyes and even sharper cheekbones, but his slightly wide nose, thick lips, and strong jaw were all from his dad. “Nah. I was just thinking about belt buckles.”

His mom chuckled. “Should I even ask?”

“Better not to, I think.”

Underneath the song, the rhythmic thump-thump of the freeway divider markers was a metronome counting down the final minutes of Andy’s old life. Each beat against the tires of his mom’s car pushed him that much closer to a future he’d spent almost half his life bleeding for. Or closer to the end of the line, if his dad’s dire predictions ultimately came true. Because that was the moment he was about to face. Years of auditions and training, training, training, all for a singular goal. Success, or the end of the road. No pressure, right? He swallowed an anxious sigh as he stared out the window, the familiar, sun-bleached landscape of the freeway, the flat expanse of farmland, and the bland suburban sprawl feeling smaller than it ever had before.

“Do you have everything you need for the flight, honey? I’ve got some extra cash in my purse.”

Andy turned from the window to regard his mother. Her lipstick? Perfect. Her expression? Composed. But there was no amount of lip liner that could cover up her maternal worry, practically seated in the car with them like an unwelcome third passenger. At least they could use the HOV lane, right?

“It’s the twenty-first century, Mom. They don’t take cash on planes anymore.”

Andy’s mom tore her gaze from the road just long enough to roll her eyes at him. “Everywhere takes cash, sweetie. What about your passport? You double-checked, right?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And your ticket?”

“On my phone.” Andy offered a small, reassuring smile that wasn’t quite a lie. His anxiety simmered just below the surface, a low-grade hum beneath his skin that had been a constant companion for the past month. Just like four years ago, when his mom had taken him to Los Angeles for KBR’s open call auditions. He’d gone into that audition with the brash confidence of a kid who’d never truly failed at anything, sure that his precise choreography and stable vocals would be enough to secure him a trainee spot. He almost shivered remembering the phantom chill of that sterile dance studio. The way the three judges had stared at him with polite, bored disinterest before one of them offered a quick, toneless, “Thank you for your time.”

This time was different. This wasn’t an open call. It was an invitation. Andy had gone through three rounds of virtual casting, followed up by another three interviews with the producers at SCG Entertainment before he finally got the call. He’d been selected as a contestant for Dream Boy Project. He was officially in. His last and only real shot.

“Sorry to be such a nag,” his mom added, her voice and frown softer now, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. “I just worry. You know? You’ll be so far away, doing God only knows what they’ll ask of you.”

“I know. I had a dream last night that they made me bleach my hair. I woke up in a cold sweat.”

Andy’s mom snorted, dismissing his attempt to lighten the mood. “I wish you’d take this more seriously. They’re flying you all the way to Seoul, Andy. You’ll be at their mercy the whole time you’re there. You know how they are.”

She didn’t need to explain who “they” were. Andy’d heard the same lecture at least a thousand times, mostly from his dad and his older sister, Hannah. Unstable. Frivolous. A gamble. A foolishness to be put aside. But this was the one gamble he was excited to take. He’d sacrificed college, a normal social life, and a steady income from teaching dance classes for this. Thousands of hours spent in front of studio mirrors, his body aching and his voice raw, had all led to this car ride, to the looming green sign pointing them toward Sacramento International Airport. He was on his way to become an idol.

“I know, Mom,” Andy said, knowing that it wouldn’t help. “But everything will be fine. And I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know you do, honey.” Grace offered a sad, tight-lipped smile as she reached over to pat his arm. “You’ve always been good at that. You’ve never really needed anyone else.”

Andy immediately scoffed, jaw open, eyebrows to the sky. “I’m sorry. Are you trying to call me a loser?”

His mom blew out a long breath, not quite a sigh. “Of course not. I just meant that you’ve always been very self-sufficient.”

Andy quietly groaned. There it was again–that sideways jab, one of the old, familiar complaints. Why don’t you have more friends, Andy? Why aren’t you dating anyone? Why are you always alone? Yeah, it was true that his social life had all the vibrancy of a forgotten houseplant. Sure, he’d traded keg stands for kettlebell squats and late-night talks for all-night dance rehearsals. But he was hardly a loner. He had friends. He’d gone on dates. He was just focused, even if she didn’t understand it. Not like his brother did, at least.

“You’re gonna blow them all away, bro,” Noah had told him as they said their goodbyes. “Seriously. You’re hella talented. I know you’re gonna win.”

A wistful little grin tugged at Andy’s lips. He was gonna miss his little brother. “Yeah, well I hope you remember how self-sufficient I am when you can’t decide what to wear to next month’s Regional Real Estate Awards banquet.”

His mom shrugged with almost saintly nonchalance. “I’ll just wear what I wore last year.”

“What?” Andy scoffed again, playfully this time. “You’d better not.”

Andy’s mom chuckled. “I’m kidding. Besides, you’re the one that’ll be on TV, not me.”

Andy’s grin grew into a wistful smile. He was gonna miss her, too. “You have the number to call in case you need to reach me, right?”

“I do.” His mom mirrored his sad smile as she signaled for the airport exit. “I still can’t believe they’re taking your phone.”

“They gotta prevent leaks somehow. Can’t have anyone posting spoilers about who cries first during vocal practice. It’ll probably be me, by the way.”

His mom quietly chuckled, reaching over to give his arm another pat. “It had better not be. Your father and I would have to disown you.”

Copyright ©️ KT Salvo