Hey. My name is Dazzle. Dazzle Ling. Fine, that’s not my
real name and you know it. It’s really Kyleigh Rhaden. But, for the purposes of
this book, I’m Dazzle Ling. That’s the name I went by when I was a world
famous, millionaire singer. Now I’m a talent scout for Star-Studded Records.
Rather, the wannabes scout for me. I just sit here, waiting for someone else to
come along who thinks that they could be the next sensation. Mostly I turn them
away. But sometimes there’s someone just perfect who I ask to record a track
for me. Then I pass them along to someone who can make them next in a long line
of millionaire artists. So I’m going to show you just one year in my life. I’ll
chronicle all of the people who come because they know that I’m the best. So
let’s get started, shall we?
July
19, 2012:
Missy Marion:
When
she walked through the door all I could think was oh no. It was one of the Girrlies, I could tell by first glance.
And no, that’s not a cult or anything, simply the way I describe those ones who
think that because they’re pretty they’ll be a celeb by morning. She walked in
and introduced herself in a snotty tone of voice. “I’m Missy. I’m looking for
that talent person, Dazzle-whatever.”
“Well,
that’s me, Missy. I’m the only one here. Dazzle Ling.” I replied, slightly
annoyed but not letting it show. She looked surprised. Now Missy was closer,
and I could see how perfectly she fit the Girrlie description, truly. She was
of average height, maybe 5’6”, with waistlength brunette hair that was
perfectly shiny and straight. She had flawless tan skin, was dressed designer,
and had smoky brown eyes. I hated her already, but I tried not to let my bias
get in the way of my profession.
“Oh…
I’m so sorry…” Missy stuttered. Well, at least she was appropriately abashed at
her mistake.
“It’s
fine,” I said in a brisk and businesslike manner, “Come sit down, and tell me a
little bit about yourself and what you see yourself doing with music. Coffee?”
“No.
Coffee ruins your complexion. Well, I was born in Phoenix in 1991. I’m
eighteen, nineteen next week. I’ve always had a fascination with music, rap
especially. All I want from you is to mention me to some rapper’s managers so
that I could be a background singer. I’m actually not bad at singing, I won a
school talent competition last year. I’ll show you.” Then she started to sing
one of my old songs. I tried really hard not to think suckup. Her vanilla perfume burned my eyes when she moved to dance.
She really wasn’t bad though, and I could tell I had misjudged her at first
with the Girrlie label.
“Not
too bad, Missy. I’ll tell you what, I recorded you singing just there, and I’ll
pass it around. If you get a call by the end of the month, congratulations. If
not, sorry, no one wanted you. Alright?” I told her in a gentler voice. She
jumped up and squealed.
“Thank
you thank you thank you so much you are so amazing eeeeeeee!” She ran out after
giving me her phone number. I was really glad I’d misjudged Missy Marion.
***
My Life:
Alright. I just realized that I
actually haven’t told you much about myself. So here’s a shrunken biography of
my life. My name is Kyleigh Rhaden. I’m currently 27 years old. I was a world
famous pop singer with the stage name Dazzle Ling for four years, from when I
was nineteen to when I was twenty three. I sang standard hip-swiveling pop
music. I had seven number one hits. Their names are: Hot (Too Much For You),
Help Her See, Revolution, Dance-Pop Paradise, Rotate Round and Round, Gibberish
Love Letters, and Death Threats. I’m 5’7”, with a chin length blond bob, a
freckled nose and cheeks, a good figure,
and an amazing voice.
I’ve been doing this job for three
years. I’m very good at it. Everyone I pick becomes successful, and that’s why
I get a visit every day, mostly two or three times a day. I have a fiancée. His
name is Ross Youlder. I’m not going to change my name when I get married. I
still go by Dazzle Ling, and am shocked when someone calls me Kyleigh. I was
born on July 13th. I have a quick temper and a penchant for
violence. Al l the boys in my middle school were scared of me. I guess that’s
all you need to know for right now.
***
Randy Gtophovski:
This
was one of the strangest fellas I met over that year. He was a walking
conundrum. I don’t get as many boys as I do girls in here, typically, and
especially not boys like this. I’d say he was 6’3, with thick black, curly
hair. He was skinny as a rail, and had piercing green eyes. He was cute, in a
dangerous biker type way. He appeared nervous, and when he spoke, he had an
accent that I couldn’t quite identify. “Ah, hello. I am Randy Gtophovski. I
would like to be in a band. “
“Isn’t
the band supposed to come to me?” I teased, knowing he wouldn’t take it the
wrong way.
“ I
don’t really know. I want to be in a boy band and sing songs about falling in
love. That always seemed like so much fun.” A boy band??? What? He looks like a
freaking criminal, not a teen heartthrob. I couldn’t conceal my reaction and he
started to sweat anxiously.
“Umm…
Well, sorry, but I don’t think that would work out for you. How old are
you? Randy, do you know anything about
pop music anyways?”
“I’m
17.” It came out sounding like ahm seventeen. Wow. Seventeen. I would’ve pinned
him at 24 or 25. I knew it wouldn’t work out, so I had to tell him to leave.
“Randy,
dear, I don’t think this is what you should do in life. I’m going to have to
tell you to leave. Sorry.” To his endless credit, he didn’t cry. I hate it when
they cry. The only thing worse is when they get all accusing and have to be
dragged out. Randy left without a word.
***
***
