Author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

March 15th 9:18 PM
“…I think I'm ready now... Intoxicate me now with your lovin' now... I think I'm ready now...,” I sang into faded silence.

Bill continued to play the out bars one last time and on the final note let it hang – to fade away hauntingly. We were very much in sync tonight; he emphasized the lulls in the arrangement – helping me to recover after getting into those higher registers and then pulled back when I was in control and powering through vocally. Masterful – he had so much talent… Slowing the song down as we did was risky, but really flipped the pop-song on its axis. Then of course, Bill injected it with some jazz roots, undertones – so very different from Spears’ original pop version of Toxic. Bill was truly a musical genius…

The applause was polite, appreciative, but not over the top for the half-filled jazz club. I stood from the stool I had been sitting on center stage, pointed towards Bill, “Ladies and gentlemen, arrangement by Bill Carter…” The applause picked up a bit louder, the stage lighting swung over to the piano, and I walked over to Bill and kissed him on the cheek, before making my exit.

Gary was on the mic as I made stage exit, “Breanna Calloway…” There was a second round of appreciative applause before he was announcing the next singer and Bill was slowly building an intro on the piano – ‘Dog and Butterfly’ by Heart – I was pretty sure that’s what the next song was.

“Love that rendition Brea…”

“Thanks Mike…,” I replied. I made my way through the dim backstage area, pulling my monitor earpiece – turning it off – putting it in my clutch I had Mike watch for me while on stage. I made it around a couple corners backstage and casually reentered the club near the back bar.

I caught a couple nods from a few regulars, a few hands touching my arm – with whispered encouraging words, and a few smiles as I walked towards Kaley. Most of the patrons were now focused on the stage though, so my moment in the spotlight was just that – a brief, fleeting moment. Kaley was at a standup table close to the bar, “That was harsh…,” I offered after nudging her.

She looked at me confused, “Like when?”

“Second chorus, felt like I was mumbling… I need a better monitor earpiece – couldn’t hear myself a few times.”

“That’s bullshit Brea, you know it… Sounded good to me. You’ve been performing here like three months now - take the win, they loved it. Bill was on tonight…”

“Was he ever! Only saving grace…” I looked around the club, people were mostly watching Gina sing a straight rendition of the Heart song, and a few were having quiet conversations – typical scene.

“I’m gonna say ‘Hi’ to JJ… You want anything,” Kaley asked.

“Nah, just finish up my water and I think I’ll get out of here…”

We hugged and I watch Kaley make her way to the end of the bar and hug JJ. They were cute together, I wondered when he would figure out she was flirting every time she came here – he was so dense. Movement at the far end of the bar caught my attention. A guy was walking towards my table, where’d you come from? You don’t look like you belong here… He smiled and nodded his head when our eyes met, and then a few seconds later he was standing at my table.

“Hi, mind if I join you?”

I could feel a lump lodge in my throat and felt a little weary. Sure, I interact with people all the time at work, but I’m guarded, and ‘pop-up’ meetings were a bit spooky to me no matter where I was… I was the queen of flying under the radar, being barely noticed was my ‘thing’ – unless I was singing, “Actually, I was just about to leave. You’re welcome to the table if you want…” I wasn’t lying, but I wasn’t going to give this guy an opening either by making up some lie that would trip me up if I let him start a conversation.

He looked confused, “Oh, well I actually came here tonight to meet you… I had heard you were singing tonight and…”

I cut him off, “Ah, look… I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t… I don’t do meeting people in clubs.” I was nervous and any control of my surroundings I thought I had felt was quickly slipping away, “I think you probably need to be talking to someone else…,” I added for good measure, “Trust me…” I could feel my heart thumping in my ears and I looked toward the stage involuntarily, I could see Gary just off to the right. If I waved would he see me? Probably not – he was watching Gina sing. I looked back toward the bar, JJ… I could flag him down, he was closer. Would this guy follow me out of here? Fuck! Slow it down…

“Ah, I think you have me all wrong. Here,” he pulled a card from his jacket and handed it to me.

The card read ‘Blake Schultz – Grand Caymans Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas, NV’ with multiple phone numbers, an email address, and a website. I read it and looked at him blankly – so what? I could print this on my computer in thirty seconds or less with the right card stock. “Sorry… Blake, I’m not interested…” His card told me nothing and I hoped my bluntness registered.

He reached over and took the card, “Augh… Sorry, old card…” He handed me another one after inspecting it.

‘Blake Schultz - Chief Marketing & Experience Officer’ with the same information as the first card he’d handed me. OK, you now have a title – congrats! I’m still not feeling this… I put his card on the table, “I’m sorry, I don’t… I gotta go.” One last look at the guy and I didn’t hesitate making my exit. When I was at the host stand I looked back, the guy hadn’t moved – he wasn’t even looking at me. I slipped my jacket on and I prayed there was a cab or Uber out front – I did not need any drama from some kook with a pocket full of ‘talent scout wanna-be’ business cards from a casino in Las Vegas I had never heard of... I was out the door quickly and walking south on Fifth…

This kind of shit wasn’t new, I could pass – generally speaking, but that didn’t mean those with heightened radar didn’t suspect something was off about me. It wasn’t Transgender night at the club – it was amateur night - so we weren't a draw for freaks and chasers. Sure, a few people in the club knew I was Transgender, but they totally didn’t give a shit. People who didn’t know – well, those were usually one’s that had whatever flavor of bias ingrained in them and were the most dangerous to someone like me. I’d been singing since I was a kid, progressing from church choir to Honors Choir in high school to even a little singing in college. In college I was told I might be a countertenor due to being able to sing so high - effortlessly, but in reality I was probably more of a falsettist.

I had decent voice control - no way that guy figured me out by singing or even in the few sentences I spoke to him back there. Some crazy fucks out tonight… I looked back at the door twice, before getting into a cab a block from the club.

March 22nd 9:44 PM
The Gaslamp District was hopping tonight… The crowd at the jazz club was electric, charged even. By the time I got on stage – the eighth amateur of this week’s showcase – the crowd was really into the performance. I sang ‘Lights’ by Journey – a song I really enjoyed singing and knew inside and out.

Bill and I had rehearsed it twice since Monday at the community center in Sherman Heights – a few blocks from the car dealership I worked at. Of course, I had recorded the intended arrangement and as was typical had been practicing every waking moment up until tonight. He had changed the timing, so it flowed quicker – almost felt like a Bruno Mars spin had been laid on the melody. It certainly worked – musically speaking, but I know there were a few spots tonight I was flat and no amount of willing from Bill’s keying the piano could save my blunders.

The crowd was appreciative with their applause when I was finished singing, but really - Bill was the one they were applauding. Oh, well… Next time I’ll do better I shrugged backstage after Mike said I sounded great. I thanked him, but honestly he was just being polite. I mean really, was he going to say I sucked? I chuckled to myself as I pulled my monitor earpiece, turning it off, and thinking I needed to invest in a new one with better fidelity, upgraded Bluetooth, and would actually help more than hurt my singing. Bottom line – this was amateur night, so these people just got a big dose of amateur… Sure, I felt a little discouraged, but that was just part of the gig – I’d survive it… I’ll be better next week.

When I entered the club from backstage, I couldn’t see Kaley, so just found a spot near the pass bar area. I was trying my best to stay out of the way of the women working their asses off hydrating the crowd with all manner of alcoholic beverages. JJ and the other bartender – Mark I think his name was – were moving quickly to fill drink orders. I had been to this jazz club a few times on weekends; this crowd tonight rivaled a weekend crowd – no idea why tonight was so special.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, turned to see a server – Dee, “Hey…,” I greeted her.

“That was a cool change to that song. So very Stevie Nicks, even Melissa Etheridge like... You want anything,” she asked.

“Ice water… Thanks… I think I like singing the original version better… I’m no Stevie or Melissa…” I chuckled, but I’m sure with all the noise she didn’t hear me. I knew the lower I sang the more problems I would have with control. Oh well...

“Was cool when the crowd lit up their phones… Haven’t seen that for a while,” she said dumping ice into a rock glass.

“Did Gina get that treatment on the Neil Diamond ‘Sweet Caroline’ song a few weeks ago,” I asked.

“Wasn’t here that night… Lemon?”

“Nah… Thanks…”

She handed me the glass, picked up a few drinks JJ had just put down on the pass bar, and she was gone. When I turned to face the stage there was a familiar face standing in front of me… Shit! Brad… No, Blake… Blake something… Fuck… I felt anxious, uncontrollably so...

“Nice job tonight… I’d offer to buy you a drink, but looks like you have something…,” he said leaning in towards me.

Go away! Don’t be nice to me, don’t give me some lame bullshit lines… You seriously don’t know what you’re getting with me… Augh! “I was flat...”

He interrupted the beginning of what would have been a critical review of my failures tonight, “The song was up tempo, probably a little more than it should have been, especially for a good singer. Might have been better sung like Steve Perry had sang it…”

What? No, it was sped up on purpose, the key was changed on purpose… The ‘fuck’ you know about our arrangement! The tempo was on point – I was the problem. “I disagree, but what do I know – I’m just a ‘good singer’…” I said snarky, but with the noise of the bar I doubt he heard my bitchy retort tone.

“Yes, you’re a good singer. Not much to complain about with that performance. Crowd seemed to like it. Kind of cool they lit up their cell phone flashlights.”

Why am I talking to this guy? OK, I was going to stay until the end of the showcase, but this guy just changed my mind on that – time to leave… “Nice talking to you, I’m out…” Without so much as a chance to let him get a last word in I set my glass down and began weaving in and out of the crowd lining the bar area. At the host stand I looked back and didn’t see him, good ‘nuf for me! Later asshole! My anxiousness was making my stomach roil, it would do a flip and then flopped – I gotta get out of here!

Outside of the club there was still a sizable crowd of people milling around, not to mention twenty or so people waiting to get into it – must be a convention in town or something… I headed south on Fifth, intent on catching a cab in the next block like I had last week escaping that nut-job, “You ever hear of the Transgender Day of Visibility?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, spun quickly ready to defend myself from an attacker… “What the fuck!” He’d scared the shit out of me and feeling like I was – this stalker tact he was laying on me wasn’t going to work.

“Whoa… Look, I’m not some crazed chaser, but I do have something you might be interested in hearing about.”

Well, aren’t you cute… Really, not a ‘chaser’? Like you’re not some fetish junky? Yeah for you! You know I’m Transgender – congrats I’m so impressed! Are you really about to threaten me right here? I felt my stomach drop, my hands felt oddly cold and tingled. I needed to decide my next actions carefully, quickly. The street was crowded with people, so he wasn’t about to pull any shit right here. Think… Wait… What did he ask me? Do I know about the Transgender Day of Visibility? Fuck you! “Why are you stalking me,” I asked in a loud voice, which caught the attention of a couple people walking by us.

“Oh, no… That’s not what this is,” he said to a couple of guys who decided to stop to see where our conversation was about to go.

“Well you better fucking explain yourself or I’m sure those cops across the street will need to know what your problem is…” I was on the verge of puking and could taste the staleness of my breath – should have had lemon with that water. I was putting up a big fluff of bravado – but truth was I really just wanted to crawl under a rock. Your move Blake…

“Look, I’m looking for singing talent for the event I just mentioned. It will be held at our hotel in Vegas next week. I’m only here to see if you’re interested. If you’re not – I will not bother you again.”

I thought about how he put that, ‘the event I just mentioned’… He did that for me, since we now had an audience of two blue-collar types that would probably have no trouble ripping into this guy if I were to ask for help. Of course, worst case these guys could make things tougher on me if he’d outted me. OK, he was doing me a favor by not bringing any unnecessary attention to me being not what I appeared. I could see the cops across the street looking our way. Fuck! I looked at the two guys, “I’m good guys… Thank you for stopping though.”

“You sure,” the bigger of the two asked.

“Yeah, I think those cops over there are gonna be checking us out in a couple minutes…”

Everyone looked toward the cops, one of the two guys waved. My two champions figured things were handled and began to move on. OK Blake Whatever-Your-Name-Is, you dodged getting your ass handed to you. The cops – well, unless you have a compelling story to tell me it’s going to go south pretty quick for you… “You have about three minutes before those cops make their way over here. Tell me what you want and we can go from there…”

“It’s basically a singing contest to showcase Transgender singers next week, culminating on the Transgender Day of Visibility. You get coaching, an allowance for wardrobe, room and board. It will look a bit like those reality TV singing shows. Everyone is filmed in an interview style, the competition is filmed, and the whole event gets edited into a PBS documentary for a later date…,” he paused to think, “Oh, there are prizes for first through third place finishers. Top prize, twenty-thousand dollars. Here,” he fished another card and handed it to me, “Check our website – this contest has been advertised for about six months. This is totally legit and above the board. You can contact me directly at those numbers or email. Research it…”

He'd said a lot, but why me? How did he find me? “Why me,” I asked.

“Well, you were a whisper on the wind – to tell the truth,” he said smiling, but continued when I didn’t look amused, “So, someone I know in LA mentioned hearing about someone new to the San Diego jazz scene and I decided to come see for myself. Do you know how many jazz clubs there are in San Diego? Plenty,” he complained, “Problem was no one knew who I was looking for when I started inquiring – subtly mind you. Then I met Gary who said if I was interested in someone with talent to come see the Thursday amateur night showcase. Even after explaining what I was looking for – he said nothing about you specifically. Anyway, I show up last week – he says, ‘Make sure I see Breanna perform…’. I thought you had a great voice and are what we’re looking for. Then you blew me off when I tried to introduce myself. What else is there? You have any other questions?”

I was about to speak, when I noticed a pained look on Blake’s face. I turned to see what he was looking at – the two cops were now less than twenty yards away. Shit… Not like, we could run or fade away, so I resigned myself to having to deal with them and just waited for them to approach. Just explain to them we had a misunderstanding and everything was… A scream from the opposite direction stopped them and they were looking toward the other side of the street where two women were posting up after one or the other had just screamed for some reason. The cops jaywalked quickly to get over to the women – we were no longer their focus. Jesus! What next?!?! I just wanted out of here…

“Let’s do this, you go that way,” I pointed up Fifth, “I’ll go this way. I’ll check into your story and if I’m interested I will call you. Until then, no more stalking shit… Fair enough?”

“Fair enough… But I’m sort of under a time crunch. We lost a singer that had auditioned. At this point we either replace her or cut the competition down to ten from twelve… There were other’s we cut, but they really wouldn’t be able to hold their own in this competition without looking," he struggled for a word, "casual singers. I think you could really add to what we're putting on, trying to accomplish…”

“I don’t understand…”

“We auditioned somewhere around thrity-five singers. From that group we selected twelve singers, but with the drop-out we are down to eleven. My GM wants to replace the one who bailed on us or cut one of the singers so we have an even number. I’m not sure why he’s so set on that – a field of ten or twelve singers, but that’s what I’ve got to get figured out,” he said frustrated, “I’m heading back to Vegas at noon tomorrow. So, I’m offering you a spot or I’m going to have to cut someone since we’re live with this event starting Tuesday. Give it some thought overnight and call me tomorrow one way or the other, please,” he asked extending his hand, which I took after a moment and shook.

He turned and started walking up Fifth without another word. I stood there for a second wondering if I should have asked him a few more questions – no, get home, get out of here and see if this guy’s story really was as he said it was… I was certainly left wanting to know more about this competition though... Grr! Curiosity killed many a cat.

March 22th 10:59 PM
Inside my apartment I didn’t waste any time pulling up Google on my Android tablet. I searched for the ‘Grand Caymans Casino’ and was happy to see there was such a place in Las Vegas – it actually had opened in January of last year. I went to their website and it was certainly ‘grand’ and Caribbean themed – big whoop. I wasn’t about to let my guard down though just because there was a website for a casino in Vegas I’d never heard of, for a contest on Transgender Day of Visibility I’d never heard of… Something was still off about this to me. The guy hangs out here a week to try and recruit me? That’s weird, right?

I followed a link at the bottom of the page for ‘Property Management’ and after a few clicks found ‘Blake Schultz’, a picture matching the man from the club, and his title was listed as ‘Chief Marketing & Experience Officer’. His bio said he came to them via the Hard Rock Casino in Atlantic City, NJ - where he was a booking agent and managed their nightclub. So, nice Vegas promotion Mr. Schultz – means maybe you know a little about the entertainment business. I did a quick Google search on ‘Blake Schultz + Las Vegas’ and found the typical stuff – Facebook, LinkedIn, and Twitter accounts. All were for the guy I’d been stalked by – OK, followed by... Not, stalked – but who hangs around a week to recruit a Trans singer? I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted to let this guy off the hook for freaking me the fuck out…

When I clicked on the Google ‘Images’ link for my ‘Blake Schultz’ search there were a few pictures of him surrounded by women in clubs – either Atlantic City or Vegas, I couldn’t tell where they were taken, so pure guessing on my part. One of the pictures was of him and some DJ at a pool party at a hotel – likely his hotel in Vegas, given the Caribbean themes of the surroundings. The pool was full of people, bikinis everywhere, plastic drink cups raised – it looked like something you’d see on MTV.

One picture of Blake caught my eye in the search of images. The one of him with an older woman, she was three or four inches shorter, gray hair, round-full face, and maybe in her early sixties. I followed the pictures link, which put me in his Facebook account and there was a description he’d added to the photo, “Visiting mom in SD…” The background of the photo – the Hotel del Coronado. The date – this past Monday. He had ties to San Diego – was this why he was here last week through tonight? Was he trying to recruit me or was he stalking me – that was still the question… Grrr! Seriously, he is likely legit – I’m just being stupid. Recruit – is there something to recruit for though?

I found a link for ‘Up Coming Events’ on the Grand Caymans website and looked at this month’s calendar. Sure enough – there was a three-day long event listed as the ‘Transgender Day of Visibility Vocal Competition’. I followed the link to the events main page and saw it was going to be run just like those reality TV singing shows. Only difference – they were putting the contestants out there for the world to see with their PBS documentary filming of the event. This was more than just a singing contest, ‘Competition’, it was putting our lives out there for all to see – all access... Blake had mentioned that, why didn’t that set off more alarms?

Beyond the competition, the hotel appeared to be rolling out the red carpet for the three days of their Transgender Day of Visibility celebration. There were specials on rooms, dining, vendor exhibitions, contests, tours, seminars, and various parties – including a late night pool party and dance. In essence they were laying it out there that they were celebrating and accepting those transitioning. Why was this the first I had heard of this? I had my nose in a few Transgender support organizations here in San Diego – not a peep had been said about this event. This was huge though, a major casino on the Vegas strip acknowledging our existence, validation of those who were Transgender – mind blown…

March 23th 9:06 AM
The phone was answered on the fifth ring, “Hello…,” the voice said tentatively.

“Hello, I… I’m looking for Blake Schultz, please.”

“Yes, he is in a shower. May he call you,” she asked.

The woman had a distinct German accent, not super thick, but certainly enough that you could tell she’d spent a good portion of her life growing up there. Was this his mother? Let's see, “Thank you Mrs. Schultz, could you please have him call Breanna at this number,” I rattle off my number, and then explained briefly that since this was his cellphone he would have my number. Not sure why I bothered, but maybe she wasn’t hip to cellphone operations…

“I will give the message, Thank you…”

“OK, thanks, goodbye…,” I said when I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go with the conversation.

“Goodbye…”

Since she didn’t correct me, I must have guessed correctly – that was his mom who answered his phone. I guess he could be married? No, that was his mom – for sure. The picture of her I’d seen last night certainly fit the voice.

March 23th 9:38 AM
After all my research into Blake’s story, it would be a total lie to say I wasn’t interested in joining the competition. The thought of putting myself out there on a much bigger stage than the jazz club was a little daunting, but I’d sang in a few competitions in the past – granted before transitioning – so I knew what I was getting into in that regard. I loved singing and had recently found how to reinsert that passion into the person I was becoming. Only nit – the PBS filming and giving them a look into my life. Others were willing to do that, so I wasn’t going to be the central focus, but opening up wasn’t something I was looking forward too. I had no problem owning my transition when challenged, but feeling like I had to justify my choices, state of mind, and anything else someone felt like laying on me could be tiring…

I called Kaley, before reaching out to Blake, and she approved my time off request. We’d talked about Blake stalking me last week and she was a little concerned about his second stalking attempt last night. When I told her about all the research I had done it set her mind at ease – which, repeating all that information confirmed I was good with the choice I was making to join the competition.

Kaley said I could work today and tomorrow – my usual days off – then Sunday and Monday. That way I would only have to take one day of vacation for Thursday – the finale night of the competition – then return Friday my normal day off. I was guessing I’d need a day off to recover – because as they say, “What happens in Vegas…” and all that crap about it staying there… The drive to Vegas, five hours’ worth of some of the most mind numbing and boring highway scenery out there was the only sucky part. I wasn’t looking forward to that. Now I just needed to hit Bill up for help with musical arrangements to a couple songs we’d performed at past showcases. I pulled up his number and before I could call, my phone began ringing…

“Hello…”

“Good morning Breanna. Thank you for calling me back.”

“Oh, hey Blake,” I said not so confidently.

“Sorry you got my mom, I was in the shower.”

“Yeah, she told me. Does she live here in San Diego,” I asked - I already knew the answer.

“My parents retired here after my dad got out of the Army. She lives out by the university.”

“Really? I went to USD, very nice area.”

“You went to USD? I did a year there, but transferred to the University of Pittsburgh. What did you study?”

“I graduated two years ago with a B.S. in Marketing. How about you?”

“I studied mostly partying, so didn’t graduate when I should have. Think that annoyed my parents…”

“Oh… Well, they have to be happy with what you’ve worked into there in Vegas, via Atlantic City…,” I cringed – did I just give away that I researched him? Yup… Crap! I mean, he knew I would, right? It was expected…

“Probably… I did finally get my degree in Business Management, so I got back in their good graces. I’m getting ready to pull out of here – you have an answer for me?”

“Yeah, ah… I would like to… If you’d still want me for your competition, yes I would like to join it…” I replied, tripping over my tongue like a fool.

“Excellent, I think you’ll fit in well with the other talent. Do me a favor and text me an email address and I’ll have the staff running the show send you some forms you’ll need to fill out – nothing much really, but a lot of legal notification stuff. Once you get that stuff turned over they’ll get you booked for a room. If you know the songs you’ll be singing let them know that also – we’ve got a great band or we can remove the vocals from any track. Oh, and get something setup for the stylists working the show right away – the staff will get your contact information. So, when do you think you’ll arrive?”

Blake had rambled all that pretty quick, so I really didn’t get a good feel on whether he felt good about my decision to join – he was very business speak in his tone. Forms, songs, and stylists – I’d only thought about the songs I wanted to maybe sing. Not about how to coordinate that with a band, wardrobe, a stylist… I was certainly late to this gig, “Ah… I was going to… Leave after work Monday night and get into Vegas probably around 1 AM. Not looking forward to the drive.”

“Oh… Most of the contestants are arriving Sunday. There’s a Meet / Greet Dinner Monday night, so you will have some catching up to do Tuesday morning,” he sounded slightly concerned, “So, you’re gonna drive, eh? Look, that’s a shitty drive, let me setup a flight for you. What time do you get off on Monday?”

“I get off at seven if there aren’t any late sale deals I need to get through financing,” I replied tentatively.

“Where do you work,” he asked.

“Cambridge Chevrolet in Sherman Heights…”

“You work in their finance department?”

“Yeah, started while in college, worked my way up…”

“Nice. So, if we got you on a flight after nine you’d be good?”

“Sure, I guess… Thank you, I appreciate not having to do that drive.”

“No problem. You’re saving me having to cut someone from the competition – least I can do is fly you out there. Let’s not mention that to anyone though.”

“Oh, Ok…”

“If you have any questions float me an email and I’ll try to get back to you as soon as I can. So, we’ll be seeing you in Vegas next week. Thanks again for accepting a spot in the competition Breanna. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m sorry I was kind of bitchy about the offer. I, well it’s, it’s hard for us out there sometimes and I just wanted to say I was sorry.” AUGH! Why was that so hard?

“Not even a problem, I totally understand. I got to see my mom this week and I found a good fit for the competition – we’re all good. Hey, I gotta run, so… See you soon.”

“Oh, yeah… Sure, I’ll see you in Vegas…”

“Thanks Breanna… Goodbye.”

“Bye…”

And there was the encouragement I was hoping to hear out of him, ‘I found a good fit for the competition’. Not over the top encouragement, but he sounded genuine having said that. I would take it. I got the sense I wasn’t just a warm body filling a spot. That he mentioned understanding that there are challenges for those that are Transgender - bonus. OK, I feel good about my decision. I’m in, I’m going to do my best, this is going to be… Ah! I needed to get to work!

March 23th 11:23 AM
After checking in with the sales manager and Kaley, I closed my office door and dialed Bill’s cellphone, I don’t think it even rang once before I heard, “Yes…”

Huh? ‘Yes’? It wasn’t a question kind of a greeting, it was more of a statement. “What do you mean, ‘Yes’,” I asked Bill.

“I mean, ‘Yes’, I’ll go with you to Vegas…,” he said with a chuckle.

“Really! Oh my God! That would be so cool Bill… Thank you.” Hearing that I was instantly soaring. I was dreading having to figure out the music for what I wanted to sing while… Wait a second, “Hey! How did you know about Vegas?”

“Kaley told me…,” he said through a suppressed laugh.

“Ah… I’ll have to talk with her about loose lips and sinking singers careers. But seriously, you can make it?”

“Girl, I wouldn’t miss it! And whose going to keep you on point, some hired Vegas lounge pianist?”

“Charles is OK with you coming,” I asked. Charles was Bill’s husband – they married after California’s Prop 8 passed in 2008. They were perfect together and really a lot of fun – after Charles loosened up with a little alcohol in him.

“Is he alright? I don’t need his permiss…,” in the background, I could hear Charles cutting him off mid-sentence, “We’re both coming Brea, wouldn’t miss it… Congratulations.”

“Thanks Charles… Thank you Bill for agreeing. I’ve been stressing all morning about how I was going to function without you.”

We talked a few specifics and set up a time to meet at Bill’s place tonight after work. I just needed to bring a bottle of wine, they would have dinner waiting, and the real work would begin in regards to what I was singing. I felt relief, a real happiness I hadn’t felt in a long time, and some nerves – the good kind. With Bill there I was confident I could hang with anyone in the competition – I just needed to stay positive.

March 26th 10:56 PM
The last couple of days had been a grind. Between working nine days straight, practicing with Bill every night after work until midnight, and coordinating my participation in the competition from just over three-hundred miles away – I was nearing my tipping point. Even with all of that I had going on these last couple days I still managed to sneak out for a couple extended lunches with Kaley to spend the one thousand dollars the competition was allowing for wardrobe. I knew my song choices – Bill and I had agreed on three songs and I bought outfits that were in line with the style I wanted to portray and fit the songs. Nothing crazy, but certainly not something I’d probably have an opportunity to wear again – like a bridesmaids dresses essentially.

The hour-long flight to Vegas was uneventful – from check-in, to TSA screening – opting for the full body pat down after declaring myself as being Transgendered, to boarding, to sitting next to a guy who reeked of stale cigarettes – OK, maybe that guy detracted from a hassle free travel experience. I wanted to sleep on the plane, but my mind was going in twenty directions – all while trying to sing my songs silently in my head. I should be committed to the loony farm… To say I was wasted right this minute was an understatement.

I caught the hotels shuttle from the airport and at the front desk of the Grand Caymans Hotel, they were very polite and helpful. They knew who I was and what I was doing the next couple days while staying with them – based on the unsolicited encouragement they offered. I wondered if they were going to be guessing who was CIS and who was Transgendered all week – not sure why I thought that, just my cynical side shining through. Whatever…

I made it to my room, showered, and was in bed by midnight. Tomorrow it begins! Unfortunately at 7 AM. The first item on the day’s agenda - a contestant’s breakfast with a briefing on the contest, processes, outside the competition demands for our time, and expectations for the documentary they were filming. Augh, unplug, unplug… Sleep!