Confessions of a Backup Dancer (22 page)

BOOK: Confessions of a Backup Dancer
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But the show was suffering right now. Darcy was offstage. The audience had nothing to focus on. And darcy definitely pushed me into the spotlight. She WANTED me to take over.

and I went for it. all of a sudden I was improvising my way through the bridge (one of the backup vocalists took over darcy's singing part… if I'd had a mike I'd probably have done the same thing) and the crowd started heating up even more. punch, punch, rebound … I was really pulling moves from I don't know where. all I could see was the spotlight, all I could hear was the crowd. louder, louder.

the bridge ran out and it was into the final chorus, which I know perfectly well repeats three times into a fadeout, when we leave the stage to change for the encore. but instead of winding down, I was turning it up. the screams were like pushing me over the top. I just didn't want the moment to end. three reps of the chorus turned into four and then five. I stayed THERE. the crowd continued to cheer, so I kept at it.

I knew I was on dangerous ground, but I didn't know how to get out of it at this point.

until I caught a glimpse of rashid, which pulled me out of the whole thing. he wasn't smiling. he was looking at
me like CHILL! I noticed that all the other dancers had stuck to the program and had long since left the stage. but the crowd was chanting, “Go backup! Go backup!” like, “Go ricki Go ricki” and I heard another chorus winding up, so I tried to keep dancing.

but it wasn't the same. I wasn't THERE anymore. I looked back at rashid. he'd turned away. then I saw D-Run, Armand, and Tina staring at me.

then I saw darcy, standing there in new white jeans with her mouth open like somewhere between “wow! Thanks for saving my ass” and “you are amazing!” and “you bitch I hate you,” like somewhere between those fans out there and the darcy barnes darla wants her to be.

then I saw darla, offstage, with that LOOK on. turned up to volume 10. like THE LOOK.

I stumbled through a couple more bars, then headed straight offstage, straight to the dressing area to change for “Love You Like a Lollipop” (our first encore). the crowd was going crizazy, still chanting, “GO BACKUP! GO BACKUP!” we only have 60 seconds to change so no one had any time to say anything, but I could feel darla and the LOOK burning into me the whole time.

I kept it together on the outside, but inside I was completely freaking out, feeling really conspicuous and totally on autopilot. I think something inside me knew that I just had to let my body finish out the show and not think. it was my only option. besides I was sure I'd
be fired. maybe all that disaster-prep thought from this afternoon would come in handy after all.

but seriously, don't watch me while I change. it's really humiliating being glared at like when you're butt naked, bending over, changing your bra, trying to squeegee yourself into a harlequin bodysuit. it was like she was staring at me coming up with really insidious ways to get me back.

I didn't even give myself the pleasure of thinking or saying “but I only did what darcy wanted … I mean the show must go on right” because I mean this is darla, it's not like I can argue with her. I'm sure she thinks I planned on stealing my own moment in her baby's show. whatever I can't deal. obviously I'm screwed so what's the point.

the encore went smoothly enough, everyone hit everything all right, but the entire crew was distracted. I was sooo happy when the encores were over. I bolted straight for the dressing room. I wanted to be out of there and back to the hotel before darla got back from tonight's “Mama Knows Best” moment. I figured if I could put some more time between now and when darla confronts me, maybe she'll chill a little. I started scrambling to get out of my bodysuit, and I even accidentally tore it under the arm. (damn, did I just do that?) I threw on my It's Darcy!! tour jacket and headed for the door, that's when I realized I didn't know where I was going. I forgot we were changing hotels tonight. I hesitated for a moment, and darla burst in, stroking that freakin' dog in that freakin' purse.

Oh man, here it comes.

she goes, How dare you? HOW DARE YOU? How dare you conspire to steal my show … I mean my daughter's show … directly out from underneath her? In front of an exclusive pay-per-view audience? who do you think you are? Don't think I don't know about your whole little master plan to take my place … I mean my daughter's place! Shhh! Punkin! she hissed at the dog.

I was like what is she TALKING about? a master plan? the last thing I want to be is her daughter! but I didn't say anything because darla was still talking:

Then the joyriding in the navigator. The side-by-side tanning. The masquerading with Jesse. The DUET! (I'm like damn I didn't realize I was so conniving, stop touching your dog like that it's gross.)

darla was still going at it. “and then you move in and steal what could be her biggest hit ever.”

(oddly, when she said that all I could think was I seriously don't know that “Cellular Love” is going to be that big. I mean, it's just not “Now That's What I Call Music” material. but whatever.)

Then she goes below the belt, in true darla style. she goes, Have you simply not realized where you belong? I hear people say that you're so real, and you think it's a compliment. But don't you see that “real” is just a nice way of saying you're “average”? Don't you get it? You have no special talent. you have a skill that any monkey
could learn. sure, people tell you that you're real. They never say you're
special
.

I was like OUCH!

she goes, Perhaps I haven't made myself clear. You will NEVER be the star. Understand?

because as of right now, you are fired. do you understand? unemployed. unwelcome. darcy and I both agree that not only are you not up to the level of talent and commitment that this show needs, but you are actually poisonous to the company. you are a virus, K.K. or whatever your real name is. Give me your pass. I was like I have a contract and she goes, Don't make this worse because I can destroy you in this business.

I'm kinda like whatever, and she goes, You'll never dance again if I have anything to say about it. she was getting really soap opera-y. I rolled my eyes.

but then she goes, hissing, Watch your step, Kimball. Leave quietly and forget your contract. I can ruin everything for you.
Everything
. I can ruin your life. Not to mention Evan's.

that's all she needed to say. she threatens to mess with Evan? I'm out of there. I have no idea what she knows about evan or anything, but evan is one thing I am NOT willing to risk.

a second cab-hailing and I'm back at the rihga, $300-plus poorer.

July 27, 2003

From the
New York City Times-Herald Daily News

You figure it out…

… Which teenage trollop, so wiped out after a wildly successful on-air concert, reportedly collapsed into the arms of her equally limelight-friendly (but incognito, don't you know) paramour après-gig, promising to spend the next three days hotel room-bound, ordering fried chicken and barbecue chips and watching public access TV? Hint: She also mentioned a craving for an unmentionable substance that might cause a champion munchie fest such as just described. Sources say her exhaustion was more than physical, citing “extensive backstage drama and tension,” so perhaps the herbal Rx is just what this girl wants.

So jesse was in town after all. Pothead.

SUNDAY JULY 24

TITO'S HOUSE, 7:30
AM
(I'm still on east coast time I think)

Outfit:
tito's zebra-print boxer shorts and nothing else. It's ok, tito's already seen my boobs.

Hair:
tito freaked out at how damaged it is. he's gonna see if he has any deep-conditioning hair mask thingies later.

Mood:
that kinda tired where you think you could happily spend four days in bed watching tv. or maybe four weeks.

Fortune:
There's no place like home. (I freaked out when I read this. I was like YEAH!! except I'm not at home. I'm at tito's. which I guess feels more like home these days than carl's and mom's. not that I would know since I haven't been there yet. I'd feel bad except I know evan's away on that complimentary one-week nature-camp thing in utah someplace sponsored by the local sheriff's department with the other kids in his school so there's no reason for me to visit home.)

I don't know how I managed it, but I made it home to San Diego last night at like midnight. without even so much as a goodbye from D-run, armand, or jes—s. not even rashid said goodbye. I left him three messages, but then I was out the door. I wonder why I didn't hear back from him.

it was a pretty lonely plane ride. I was stuck in between a dutch backpacker who needed a shower and a woman who asked me at least three times whether I'd
accepted Jesus Christ as my personal lord and savior. luckily I had my discman.

anyway I took a cab straight from the airport right to tito's place—his messy, wonderful place. I crashed here last night. His mother doesn't know I'm here yet. we might not tell her.

what can I say I just didn't want to go home right away. I didn't know what it would be like, and right now I need to chill. plus I need to figure out what to do about money. I'm not sure what I'm going to come out with. I mean, I definitely won't get paid through my contract, so anything I have now is pretty much all I've got.

and it's nowhere near enough for the martino school.

I don't know what I'm going to do. we need that cash.

thank god for tito. he's over there snoring. I'm wide awake and he's snoring. it just doesn't seem right that tito would snore but he does. really loudly. but I love him. he didn't once ask “what are you going to do about the money” even though I know he was wondering about it.

it's kinda nice to be able to think about things like that for a change. I am so sick of watching my ass. I am so sick of watching darcy's ass. I am so sick of that quote-unquote pop star life.

I think.

MONDAY JULY 29

TITO'S HOUSE, 4
PM

Outfit:
still in tito's boxer shorts. I actually haven't left the house in two days. just watching tons of tv and eating Popsicles. it's exactly what I've been needing.

Hair:
tito cut off like three inches last night. no more split ends thank god.

Mood:
in hiding and loving it

They talked about me on MTV news last night. he was at the darcy barnes show and did this whole backstage thing (which I never even noticed them filming when I was there but whatever there are always so many people around those things) but when he was talking about the concert he was like blah blah darcy looked great and everything and blah blah but then he goes, “New York City and pay-per-view fans got an extra treat most tour attendees will miss this season when a gracious Darcy Barnes turned over the stage to breakout backup dancer K.K. Kimball for several minutes during Friday's show at the famed Madison Square Garden. While the concert was already an amazing event that didn't need any help from anyone, K.K. took things to a different level, bringing a sense of realness to the arena and proving herself to be headed for certain solo stardom one day. For her part, Darcy proved herself to be a class act by showcasing one of the other talented dancers in her show. It's the mark of a great star, and the audience was crazy for it.”

I was like TURN that off! and he switched to E! and there was some gossip columnist talking about me all “she's the latest scene-stealer on the teen circuit, and she's au natural up top! stay tuned …” I was like omigod and he switched to Entertainment Tonight and there was some reporter talking about me, then on Extra there was another reporter who looked exactly like the last one, talking about me. then he switched back to MTV and this random chick came on camera with her name and age across the bottom of the screen: Andrea Boone, 14: “When that one dancer was up there, like, THAT was the best part of the show!” and then this other kid said the same thing. and then another one said it and her three friends all went “WOOOOOHOOOO!” all TRL style. tito and I looked at each other like no WAY! you got the TRL scream! he goes, “I have to go get out your chart, right away. You are going through WAY too much transition right now!”

BOOK: Confessions of a Backup Dancer
7.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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