Supernova (Supernatural Superstar Book 1) Read online

  Again, she nodded.

  “You will join Supernova and undergo intensive training in order to have your skills at an acceptable standard before the debut concert.”

  Audrey waited for the other conditions, but they didn’t come.

  “That’s it,” said the president. “That is the only condition. Do you have any questions?”

  Audrey only had one. “Why?”

  The president’s teeth glinted as she grinned. “It is a mark of my kind that we can see the shape of a person’s destiny, the color of their fate. I have seen yours, and it is dazzling. I’d be a fool not to profit from it. What do you say?”

  There was only one thing Audrey could do. She stood up, unzipped her army coat and shrugged it off.

  “Agree,” she said, and handed her coat to the president.

  Chapter Nine

  A strange feeling came over Audrey as she signed the contract, as if something cold and shivery settled over her skin. Whatever the president’s magic was doing to seal the contract, Audrey figured there was no going back now. She didn’t want to.

  As soon as the feeling faded, the president jumped into action. She left the four of them sitting in the lounge area of her office and started making phone calls, organizing meetings and appointments.

  The rest of Supernova avoided Audrey’s eyes. It was probably awkward for them, she figured. They didn’t want her in the group, but after what had happened with Patty, they probably felt as if they couldn’t complain. Their expressions were complaint enough, especially Thorne’s. He sat slumped in his chair, arms folded over his chest and scowling so much that he almost had a monobrow. He didn’t need to complain aloud to get his message across. He wasn’t happy having her in the group.

  She didn’t blame them for not wanting her there. They were obviously good at what they did, and Audrey would drag them down. She had no illusions about her suitability for the job, but it was time for her to stop running. She had to stand and fight, and this was the only way she could see to do that. She had to stop the alpha. There was no other option.

  While the president was still on the phone, a tall woman with glossy black hair entered the room. The president acknowledged her with a wave but kept talking on the phone and pacing. The woman stood in front of Audrey, staring down at her with narrowed eyes. She wore a black pencil skirt and a crisp white shirt. When Audrey looked up into her face, she noticed that the woman’s skin gave off a faint greenish glow and had a strange texture like crepe paper. The more Audrey tried to focus, the more the woman appeared ancient and haggard.

  “You’re not giving me much to work with here,” the woman said, as the president got off the phone and moved to stand next to her.

  “I have faith in you, Sheela,” the president said.

  Sheela sniffed. “At least she has good bone structure. Her skin isn’t bad either. What does Agnes think?”

  “She’s not with Agnes until 11.”

  Sheela gave a little laugh. “That’ll be a fun meeting.”

  Audrey noted the sarcasm.

  “And you said you wanted a clean-cut image?”

  The president looked Audrey over. “Innocent but plain, to balance out Koko’s cuteness. Something simple. She’s completely untrained, so nothing too complicated.”

  Sheela nodded. “I have a few ideas.”

  “As long as the basic concept is in place, we can refine it later.”

  “I don’t know if six weeks will be enough time,” Sheela said.

  “Make it work,” the president said, then turned away to make another phone call.

  Sheela snapped her fingers in Audrey’s face. “Come along, then,” she said. “Let’s see what we can do with you.”

  As Sheela led her out the door, Audrey glanced back at the others. Peg gave her a little wave and Koko shrugged, but Thorne didn’t even glance her way.

  As they got in the lift to go down to a different floor, Sheela didn’t stop talking, but Audrey only really understood about a quarter of it. Something about demographics and ROI. She figured she didn’t need to understand. She was in it now. Whatever she needed to do, someone would be there to push her toward it. And for the next few hours, things definitely followed that pattern.

  They sat her in a chair, then a man came at her with a pair of scissors. She instinctively jumped to her feet, ready to fight, but he didn’t want to attack her. Or, at least, he only wanted to attack her hair.

  “Nobody’s going to hurt you, Audrey,” he said slowly, tucking the scissors into a pouch in his apron. “We just want to make you beautiful. You want to be beautiful, don’t you? Now, come over to the basin so I can wash your hair.”

  He hacked and snipped at her and sprayed her with toxic chemicals, but although it was boring and he kept trying to make chit-chat with her, it wasn’t physically painful. After having tried and failed to brush her hair the day before, she was a little amazed at how easily he was able to get through the tangle.

  Finally, he stepped back, holding a mirror up to the back of her head. “What do you think?” he asked.

  Her hair seemed brighter than it had ever been before, and super shiny. The way it fell highlighted all the good parts of her face and disguised the bad. She didn’t know hair could do that. He’d cut a bit off, but it still fell down past her shoulders. It was dangerous to have it loose like that. In a fight, anyone could grab it. Still, it looked pretty.

  “Nice,” she said quietly. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, grinning at her in the mirror.

  “Acceptable,” said Sheela, who had been standing by the door, watching over the whole process.

  Next, Audrey was whisked off to a different chair in front of a different mirror, where a girl smothered her face with goopy stuff. She had to sit without moving for fifteen minutes, and then the girl took the goopy stuff off and started putting other stuff on. They glued lashes to her eyelids, ripped hair from places where she hadn’t even known she had any, and stuck parts of her skin back with tape. Then they started putting on other goopy stuff.

  Audrey had been vaguely aware that people wore make-up, but she’d never realized it was such an art form. Occasionally, Sheela threw in instructions, meaningless things like “less smoky” or “more natural”, and the make-up artist would mumble something under her breath about demanding old hags. Audrey couldn’t see in the mirror through any of it. Sometimes the make-up artist was blocking the way; other times, her eyes were closed or she had to look up or over there, or else her eyes were watering too much for her to see anything. She had no idea what to expect when the make-up artist stepped back, finally finished.

  It was a strange sensation, looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger looking back. Audrey leaned forward, trying to find herself in that new face. They were definitely her eyes. The shape looked different somehow, but the color, the pattern of the flecks in her iris – that hadn’t changed.

  “That’s me?” she asked.

  The make-up artist nodded. “Yep, same old you.”

  But it wasn’t. It wasn’t the same old Audrey at all. That girl had been a scared little street rat, always hiding in the shadows. This girl was bright and shining. Audrey reached out and touched her reflection, feeling as if her hand might pass right through the mirror.

  “I’m pretty?” she said, confused. It was such a strange thing. She’d never needed to be pretty before. It wasn’t useful, like being fast or strong or wily. She’d never defeat the alpha with prettiness, so there was no point to it. It seemed strange that it was something people needed as part of their job, especially when it wasn’t even real, just angles of her hair and paint on her face.

  “The president would hardly have picked you out if you were a complete troll,” said Sheela. “No offence, Becky,” she added to the make-up artist. “I have no issue with your people.”

  Audrey thought the wardrobe part was the worst part of all. It combined the chattiness of the hairdresser with the physical disco
mfort of the make-up application, only worse. There was a whole rack of clothes she had to try on. Once she tried one outfit, Sheela would say either yes or no, but would occasionally elaborate by screeching and calling the wardrobe girl names. Some of the clothes, Audrey couldn’t figure out how to get into. There were sparkly tassels that got tangled up or too many straps to know what went where. A few things, Audrey assumed were underwear until Sheela corrected her and explained how to wear them. One outfit was made completely out of golden ropes and barely covered the necessary parts.

  “We’re out of time,” Sheela said, looking down at the tiny pile of “yes” clothes. “Put that vintage swing dress back on. If you’re late to meet Agnes, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Sheela pointed to a black dress. Audrey had liked that one too. It wasn’t scratchy or confusing.

  When they got back in the lift to go to a different floor, Audrey couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirrored walls.

  “When you meet Agnes, don’t let her realize you’re a dimwit,” said Sheela. “She’ll swoop in on any weakness and exploit it. If you’re not comfortable with something, tell her straight out. At least you look the part now, anyway. She’d have had a heart attack if she saw you before.”

  From her tone of voice, Audrey thought Sheela wouldn’t have minded if that had happened.

  “You’re not coming too?” Audrey asked. Even though Sheela was kind of mean, Audrey still got the feeling that Sheela was on her side. After all, she’d ordered the assistant to burn that rope dress.

  “Are you joking?” said Sheela. “There’s only six weeks until your debut! I’ve had to sideline three other projects just to design your image concept. I can’t spend half the day holding your hand just because Agnes is a miserable hag.”

  As she said it, the lift doors slid open, and they stood face to face with a woman who looked remarkably similar to Sheela — same green glow, same ancient face. The only difference was, this woman was blonde.

  “This is her?” said the woman, who Audrey assumed was Agnes. She didn’t seem happy.

  “Good luck,” Sheela said, giving Audrey a little push to get her out of the lift and then hitting the button to close the doors.

  Agnes led her into a large room with black walls. The room was mostly empty except for a section at one end that was brightly lit and decorated with colorful things. People were rushing around, rearranging lights and inspecting equipment. Over to the side were some tables and chairs, and Audrey slumped in relief when she noticed the rest of Supernova sitting there. At least she wouldn’t be alone for this part of it, even if they didn’t want her around.

  “Go sit with the others,” Agnes said. “We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

  Audrey wobbled her way over on her high heeled shoes, stopping just before she got to them, not sure if she was welcome to sit at their table. The three of them were also wearing all black: Koko in a short, flippy dress and long boots; Peg in a buttoned-up military coat; and Thorne in a t-shirt and leather pants. Now that Audrey knew how much work went into looking pretty, she was more amazed than ever that the three of them seemed to do it so effortlessly.

  Koko glanced up from her phone, then back down without acknowledging Audrey. Audrey felt a little disappointed. She knew Koko didn’t like her, but she’d been nice that morning, giving her the soft drink and everything. Audrey had hoped that was a good sign, that even though Koko didn’t want her in the group, maybe eventually they could get along. She’d obviously been wrong. Then Koko yelped and dropped her phone.

  “Audrey?” she said, her voice full of disbelief. “No way.”

  The other two looked up. Peg didn’t stop staring, but Thorne went back to the magazine he’d been reading.

  “Just because she looks the part, doesn’t mean she can do the job,” he said.

  “But look at her!” Peg said, standing up to walk around her as if she’d make more sense from a different angle. “Look at you! You look amazing!”

  Audrey smiled. Even though being pretty was meaningless and it couldn’t defeat monsters, it still felt kind of nice to be complimented.

  “It’s insulting,” said Thorne. “Apparently, anyone can just walk in off the street and be at the same level as us, even though we’ve been training for ten hours every day for the past five years.”

  “Nobody’s saying that, Thorne,” said Peg. “Nobody’s expecting her to be at our level.”

  Thorne raised his eyebrows and flicked a page in his magazine so sharply that the paper tore.

  “Supernova, they’re ready for you on set,” called one of the assistants.

  Thorne pushed back from the table and stalked off toward the end of the room without waiting for the others.

  Koko got up to follow Thorne. “You can’t blame him for being angry,” she said.

  Audrey shrugged. She didn’t blame him. She could totally understand why he was mad. That didn’t mean she was going to change her mind.

  As she followed the others over to the set, she wondered about the president’s reason for putting her in Supernova. Her explanation had been vague, at best. Even if Audrey had a bright future, she could still have it with another group, after being properly trained. The president obviously knew what she was doing. She ran a successful company; she didn’t make decisions on a whim. Audrey didn’t know anything about business, but it still seemed like she was a risky investment. She couldn’t think of a single reason why any of this was a good idea.

  The background of the set was like the night sky, with plastic objects hanging down from wires all around. The hanging objects were ordinary — a pineapple, a fish, an alarm clock – but they were all plastic and bright primary colors. It didn’t really make sense to her. Why would a fish or a pineapple be in the sky? There were little crosses taped to the floor, with each of their names written on them. The others all took their spots on their cross, so Audrey looked for hers, then stood on it, behind Koko and off to the left, almost at the edge of the set.

  A short man with some straggly gray hair combed across his head came over to talk to them. “Supernova,” he said. “It’s a space explosion. You’re in space. Floating.”

  The other three nodded, so Audrey nodded too, even though she had no idea what he was talking about.

  The lights were so bright that Audrey could only see a short distance in front of her, so when the man walked off, she had no idea where he’d gone. The four of them could be alone there, for all she could see. Then she heard the cameras start clicking, and a moment later, the man started yelling.

  “FLOATING! WHY AREN’T YOU FLOATING?”

  Every time the camera went off, the other three would slightly change how they stood, looking in a different direction or shifting their shoulders or their facial expression. Audrey tried to copy them.

  “FLOATING!” the man yelled again. “STAND LIKE A BUTTERFLY, NOT AN AARDVARK!” The camera kept snapping.

  Audrey stood on her tiptoes, trying to be more butterfly-like.

  “BALLET HANDS!” the man yelled. “WHERE ARE YOUR BALLET HANDS? WHY AREN’T YOU A BUTTERFLY? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS GIRL?”

  The man appeared in front of them again, this time all red in the face.

  Thorne put a hand up to stop him. “Give us a minute, Mike,” he said. “I’ll sort this out.”

  Mike threw his hands up in disgust, then went back out of the light.

  Thorne pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked toward Audrey. He looked her over and shook his head.

  “Create some separation,” he said, taking Audrey by the elbow and pulling it away from her body, then shoving her hip until she jutted it out to the side. “Your arms will look slimmer if they’re not squished against you. See how the back of your hand looks big and ugly if you have it out flat?” He held his hand up in front of her, palm out with his fingers together. He did have big hands, but they weren’t ugly. “But from the side, it looks small and dainty. Make sure your middle finger is always a
t the lowest point.” He turned his hand to the side and held it curved with the fingers apart. “When he says ‘ballet hands’, that’s what he wants, but it applies to your whole body. You need to use the camera to your advantage, play with the light and angles. Whatever is closest to the camera will look the biggest, so use that to highlight your good points, like your eyes, and hide anything you don’t want seen in the shadows, like your square jaw. Got it?”

  Audrey nodded. That made a lot more sense than butterflies and aardvarks.

  “Don’t look around at what we’re doing. Pick a point in the distance and focus on that. A lot of their instructions are stupid, but they don’t mean them literally. Just try to get the general feeling they want.”

  Audrey nodded again. “Thanks,” she said.

  Thorne shrugged. “Nothing personal,” he said. “If you look bad, we all look bad.”

  But as he walked back to his spot, Audrey wondered if maybe he was really such a cold guy after all.

  Chapter Ten

  The photoshoot went on into the evening. Audrey put everything she had into it. Her feet ached from standing in the heels. Her eyes hurt from staring into the bright lights. Her brain ached from trying to understand what the photographer wanted. No amount of photos seemed like enough, even when their expressions and poses barely changed. Audrey did not understand.

  Finally, the president’s voice called out from beyond the lights. “That’s a wrap for today,” she said. “I need Supernova downstairs.”

  At those words, Thorne marched off set. Audrey could hear him furiously talking to the president. She caught her name and some other words that weren’t very nice.

  “You did really well,” Peg told her. Audrey suspected he was only talking so she couldn’t hear what Thorne was saying. “Mike’s known for being hard to work with. They call him a make-or-break man for new models. A lot of them run out crying and don’t come back. You definitely didn’t break!”