Rising Star by JS Taylor Read Free Book Online

music channel. Don’t let them put you in a bikini Summer. Keep your self-respect.”
    I laugh.
    “It’s not like that mum,” I giggle. “I won’t be draped over a car in a gold thong.”
    “You’d better not be,” she warns, only half joking. “It would give your poor dad a heart attack.”
    I check the time, and realise I’m a few minutes away from running late.
    “Listen mum, I’ve got to go,” I say. “I’ll call you later. I’m needed in the studio.”
    “Ok love. Well you take care. We’re all thinking of you down in Wales.”
    “I know mum. Love you.”
    “Love you too.”
     
    I arrive in the nick of time for our video session, but Dev.as.station have not yet arrived.
    And we have to wait another twenty minutes before they turn up.
    George is openly glowering as the Dev.as.station crew walk into the room.
    Their lateness has confirmed what George already thought. That they’re unprofessional and unreliable.
    “Hey!” Cher waves a friendly hand. Tammy beams back. Since we met Cher at the start of the contest, I think Tammy has a slight friend-crush. They’re similar in many ways. Both from the same part of London, from immigrant families. But whilst Tammy has learned to lay low and keep her talent hidden, Cher seems at ease with herself. And although Cher is stunning to look at, with a tall willowy frame, sooty-lashed eyes, and long dark hair, I think it’s her confidence which Tammy most admires.
    “Hey girls.” Dushane smiles at us. He has less of an arrogance about him today. I have a sudden feeling that underneath his gangster posturing, Dushane’s an uncertain boy, trying to make it in a grown-up world.
    George, however, does not see this.
    “You’re late,” she snaps, in her snootiest voice. “This is a professional contest. How are we supposed to work together if you can’t show up on time?”
    Dushane’s smile vanishes, and a ripple shudders round the rest of the group. Aside from Cher and Dushane, there are four more boys, all clad in the London gangland uniform of super white trainers and baseball caps. They look so similar under their low caps, that it’s hard to tell them apart – or see what they’re thinking. But something tells me they have not reacted well to be balled out by a posh girl.
    There’s an uneasy silence.
    “Sorry,” says Cher after a moment. “It’s difficult to get this lot in the same place.” She beams a sincere smile, and George’s annoyance melts a little. “Shall we get started?” adds Cher. “Make up for lost time?”
    “Ok,” says George begrudgingly. Her upper-class accent sounds so totally at odds with Cher’s African-Cockney lilt, that I find myself wondering if this collaboration is a good idea after all. Maybe we just won’t mesh.
    “Dushane has some ideas,” adds Cher, turning to him to draw him in.
    Comically, Dushane’s bravado seems to totally desert him, now he’s called upon to share his ideas publicly. He looks lost. I feel a sudden urge to give him a hug.
    “Yeah, well,” Dushane starts, his eyes glued to the floor, and his white trainer tracing an invisible circle on the floor. “I just thought, y’know. A dance-off would be good.”
    George snorts loudly. I glare at her, but she doesn’t get the message.
    “A dance-off?” she says derisively. “With a garage band? How original.”
    “It wouldn’t be like, a regular dance-off,” mumbles Dushane. “I was thinking we’d do something original. A different dance style.”
    “Look,” says George. “You might be all into your breakdance, or whatever you call it…”
    A member of Dev.as.station sniggers.
    “But we’re not street dancers,” continues George. “We can’t…”
    “Different dance styles?” says Tammy, interrupting her, and landing a gentle gaze on Dushane. “Like what?”
    Dushane rubs his hand under his cap, and adjusts the brim to sit a little higher on his face.
    “Like… I dunno. Something unexpected,” he says. “Maybe that