Here's that new story! Auslly! Ah!
"The M Factor" is basically the X-Factor. Disclaimers and rights would get this story removed so. Yeah.
The judges are the first original characters I have ever created so bear with the weird names. I really like Cheyanne's "anne" instead of "enne" tbh.
On with the story and end my rambling.
I slowly make my way up towards the table in front of me. A lady with a stack of rectangular stickers in front of shoots me a friendly grin. The stickers had a seven-digit number on it. She looks at her clipboard.
"And you're name is?" She brings her attention back to me. I give her a nervous smile.
"Ally. Ally Dawson." I reply. She reads through a list on a clipboard and marks my name with a highlighter
She hands me a sticker with a large number on it. 1734589.
"Good luck!"
My mom and I make our way into the arena. A security man tells us what to do. He tells us to wait in the waiting area until they call the group with a seventeen as their first numbers. We thank him and make our way towards a room with foldable chairs.
"Are you nervoust?" My mom asks me.
"No mom. I'm about to sing in front of 10,000 people and in front of four people who could potentially make my dreams come true. I' not nervous at all!" I tell her sarcastically. She laughs my comment off and pats my shoulder.
I look around at the group I was sitting with. There sat a couple of duos, a few girl bands, the occasional boy band, and it looked to be a lot of teenagers. All of us shared the same goal, to impress the judging panel. If we did so, we'd make it to the next stage of the competition and that's bootcamp.
It's nervewracking and a bit intimidating. Some of the hopefuls were warming up and their vocals were fantastic. I decided to try the same, feeling like my vocals were pretty rough. I took my iPod from my backpack, taking my earbuds to my ear. I listened to my auditon song and singing along to it. After around my third goaround, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"You've got a nice voice," a male tells me. He has bleach blonde locks that go to mid ear. His bangs touched his eye brow, complimenting his brown eyes nicely. He sits in the row behind me smiling. I return the favor.
"Thanks. That wasn't my best but thanks!" I tell him.
"If that wasn't your best, I'd like to see your best then!" He tells me cooly.
I shoot him an odd look. I could not figure why this random person was talking to me. I had never seen him before. Of course, Miami is a pretty big city. "Let me hear you."
He then belts a nice ballad. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He had a nice vocal. I was pleasantly surpried in how much soul he had. "So pretty boy can sing."
"Never judge a book by it's cover." He tells me arrogantly. He reaches his hand out to shake mine. "I never properly introduced myself. I'm Austin. 18, from Miami."
"Ally. 18 and also from Miami." I shake his hand and immediately pull away. "You look like a cheesy boy bander."
Austin gives me a questioning look. "Are you talking about that guy from One Direction?"
"Well. . ."
"It wouldn't offend me, I've been told that a lot."
We start conversing about music and what kind of music we enjoy indivdually. Ironically, the two of us enjoy the same genres: rock and urban. It was nice because most of my companions were into the every day , Austin enjoyed a lot of the same bands I did.
"So where do you go to school?" Austin asks me.
"South Beach High." I reply. "You?"
"Marino High, so the complete opposite side of the city." He jokes.
"So, that explains why I've never seen you in my life."
He shoots me a smirk. "What number do you have?"
"Something with a 17 on it."
"Oh-"
As he began to speak, a man with headphones and a headset walked into the area. He took a glance at the clipboard in his hands before bringing his attention back to the group. "The judges are ready for numbers 1736786, 1735674. . . 1734589. . . 1745878."
"Did they call your number?" My mother asks. I nod my head nervously as I stand up. She takes my hand and we follow the man and the other 19 acts they called.
"Looks like we'll be spending more time together." Austin says as he walks beside me. I feel my mom nudge me.
"One minute," I whisper to her. I look back to Austin. "Where are your parents?"
"They own a mattress shop so they had to be at work. . ."
"Oh. Well this is my mom, my dad actually owns a music store so he couldn't make it either."
Austin smiles. "Hi. . . Ally's mom."
She lets out a laugh as we enter the backstage area. The man calls out a number and a girl group responds. They and their families follow him into a curtain, which I assume opens to the stage. Austin, my mother, and I take a seat and watch the audition go on.
"Hi girls," the first judge states. It was easy to spot the facade she had put on for the cameras. The group of four young girls shyly responded to her. "What do you call yourselves?"
"Dynamix." They all respond in unison. She lets out a small smile.
"That's Cheyanne Lloyd, isn't it?" I ask Austin.
"Yeah. She's in that girl group. . . What are they called?"
"I don't know. But I'm pretty sure that she'll get the groups category. Didn't her band win last year?"
"I think so."
We have a small conversation about the judge. We conclude that her group, Little Rebels, did win The M-Factor this past year. The other judge on the panel, Cara Carter, was her mentor.
The girl group was actually horrible. Their harmonies were completely off and they showed zero chemistry. You could see the frustration in Cheyanne's eyes.
"How well do you really think that went?" She asks. The girls all look at each other.
"We think it went pretty well."
"No. It didn't!" She says angrily.
The group got four no's across the panel. Hardin, the head judge this series, expressed that the group had potential and he could see them being a proper group in the next year. Cheyanne obviously disagreed.
"How would you like to have her as a mentor?" Austin asked. I let out a nervous laugh.
"I think I would want to strangle her before I even made it to live shows." I reply. "She's only twenty!"
Austin laughs. The girls come out with large spaces in between them and their faces flooded with tears. "She was so mean. . ."
I look at my mom and she gives me an assuring look. I bite my lip as the man calls out another number, but then follows up with another one to begin preparing.
"This has to be the toughest panel on the show." Austin mutters. I can see his nerves begin to set in as his facial expressions and shoulders fall inwards.
"They're a totally fresh panel besides Cara. They're totally on it."
We watched the next audition and it was an eighteen year old who went by Lauren. I couldn't catch her last name. Most of the judges enjoyed her, but once again Cheyanne wasn't too keen on her vocals.
"I think she'd be great in a girl group," the judge, Stephan, sitting on the edge of the panel says.
"No."
She got three yeses and was on her way to bootcamp. She was jumping and crying tears of joy as she came out of the curtain with her family. The next audition went generally the same way. It was obvious that Cheyanne was fed up with mediocre talent.
"The judges are ready for 1734589 and 1735899."
"Oh my God. . ." I mumble. My mom squeezes my hand as I nervously stand up. My legs are shaking to the point where they could collapse at any moment. I straighten the ruffles out of my dress and I make my way to the man.
"Good luck, Ally!" I hear Austin yell. I turn back to acknowledge him but I was already being pushed into the curtain.
"Miss... Dawson, you will see the judges first." I hug my mom before I walk up the steps the stage. Another man with a headset stands at another curtain opening to the stage.
"Here's your microphone. Just go stand on the M." He points to the sticker of the letter that stood in the middle of the large stage. "Good luck. . . Go on in 3. . . 2. . .1- go!"
He gives me a small nudge and I walk to the stage. I look at the ground as I feel the numerous stares on me. I get drowned in the crowds screaming as I stand on the M.
"Hello." Cheyanne asks me, her British accent sounding more evident in person. I smile before responding.
"Hi." I reply shyly. She shoots me a sincere grin as she continues.
"What's your name?"
"Ally Dawson."
"Great name," she tells me. "And how old are you?"
"18."
"And what song are you going to sing for us today?"
"Stay by Rihanna."
"Go on."
As the music turns on, I feel a sense of assurance. I let myself get lost in the lyrics and I was confident in myself. The crowd seemed intrigued by me as well as the judges. I found myself expressing my emotions and soul in hand motions. It was a horrible habit I always wish I could stop.
I finish. The crowd roars as they stand up like a large wave. I look over to the judges who all four were standing and clapping all at once. The crowd settled down and the judges sat. I prepared myself for the comments.
Hardin looked at me in awe. "That was stunning. Absolutely stunning. Best audition of the day by far!"
The crowd fell silent and Cheyanne looked at me, a smile creeping on her face. "That was absolutely beautiful."
I felt a massive sensation of relief. I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to hold in tears.
"There's something special in you," she continues on. "You look and sound great, love. And I'm super excited to see where you will go in this competition. Good job!"
"I think you've got an amazing voice, but I think I see you in a girl group." Cara tells me. I hear a melody of boos and disagreements across the panel.
"A girl group?" Stephan asks from the end of the panel. "She's one one of the best girls we've seen! We'll done, Ally.
Shall we vote now?"
I got four yeses across the board. My instincts told me to jump in joy and I did. I felt like a little kid at Christmas as I ran behind the stage and hugged my mom. I felt tears of joy roll down my cheek and I could hear my mom crying.
"I'm so so proud of you, Ally!"
"Cheyanne actually liked me! I cannot believe it. . . I thought she would hate it."
"Looks like she's enjoying Austin too."
I look at the television back in the waiting room, watching Austin's audition. She definitely was enjoying it as well as the the other judges.
The results were evident as he got four yeses. He came backstage jumping as I did.
"I did it!" He yells. "I did it! I'm going to bootcamp!"
I laugh as he approaches me. "Congratulations. I guess I'll see you then."
"I'll guess I'll see you then," he repeats with a smirk.
I walk away, regretting not getting his number, address, email or anything. I hear him call out my name. I decide to act like I didn't hear, because I know we'd get shoved out by producers and nothing would be accomplished.
But there's something special about this Austin boy.
Only God knows what's in store for the next few months.
Ah! I'm getting really excited about this story. I'll still be writing my other story but I will primarily be worried about this story.
This is my first Auslly story in a while. I hope it's enjoyable!
~Thirlwall'sBowties