Sunset: 4 (Sunrise) by Karen Kingsbury Read Free Book Online Page B

this was where  Katy belonged. Where she would always belong.
    The afternoon became the evening as one group of ten after another filed to the front and took their turns auditioning. There were the usual surprises, where a student who had been earning occasional ensemble roles used this audition to break through to another level, and there were the disappointments, students who clearly hadn’t prepared and would receive a lesser role or no role because of that.
    Fourteen girls sang “Part of Your World,” and twelve boys sang “The Bare Necessities” from The Jungle Book . Only two kids came in full costume, including a twelve-year-old boy, Sander, who wore a homemade Phantom of the Opera mask.
    After mumbling through two lines of “The Music of the Night” from the Broadway play, Katy kindly interrupted him. “Sander, I need you to take off your mask.”
    The boy slowly removed the white plaster piece that covered half his face. “But—” he lowered the mask—“it helps me sing in character.”
    “I’m sorry. We can’t understand your song.” Katy hoped she sounded as compassionate as she felt. Sander was a good boy from a nice family that had long supported CKT. “With acting, it’s important to find your character in here.” She put her hand over her heart. “Okay?”
    “Yes.” The boy sighed and set the mask down. “Here goes.”
    When his song began again, Katy had a better idea why the boy wanted a mask over his mouth for his audition. The notes were too high and too low, and the words never quite on beat. His voice cracked three times.
    Katy glanced down at his form and saw that as a second choice the boy was interested in working with the tech team in sound and lighting. Relief flooded her. As Sander left the stage, Katy marked the tech box on his audition form.
    Dayne looked over her shoulder. “Lighting and sound?” he whispered.
    “Definitely.” Katy met his eyes. “Thankfully.”
    They were midway through the final ten kids when an older-looking girl took the stage. She was dressed in tight jeans and a tighter sweater. As she faced the judges, a section of her long dark hair hung over her eye. She jutted her chin, her jaw set. “My name’s Miranda Miles. I’m sixteen, and I’m singing ‘Stay’ by Sugarland.”
    Katy resisted the urge to cringe. On the audition packet and on the CKT Web site, kids were advised to sing something from a musical. Karaoke CDs were allowed, and half the kids chose that as their accompaniment over working with the pianist. The song Miranda had chosen wasn’t only in the wrong genre; it was also a song about an affair. Not exactly wholesome.
    Poor girl, Katy thought. Everything about Miranda shouted rebellion and defiance, something Katy rarely saw at auditions. CKT required too much time and volunteer work for a parent to force a kid to participate. Katy sat back in her chair, curious. If she’s here for a reason, please show me, God .
    Miranda’s performance was average. She didn’t project the way she should, but her notes were on key. The fact that her hair swished across her face covering one eye seemed proof that she wanted to hide—not only from the judges but from the world. Ordinarily, if a student auditioned the way Miranda did, Katy would have to make the tough decision and pass. After all, half the kids who took the stage wouldn’t get parts.
    But Katy was drawn to Miranda like no other student who’d appeared before them today. When the girl was done, Katy leaned slightly toward Dayne. “I feel like we have to see her tomorrow.”
    Dayne hesitated. “Then mark the callback box.”
    Patrick and Lydia Moynihan—a brother and sister who had been with CKT for years—rounded out the group, and Katy was struck by the way their already good voices had matured in the past few months. Both were taking voice lessons, and their songs sent chills down her arms. They were brilliant.
    When Patrick finished his song, Dayne whispered, “God