DANNY Chapter 21 by Roberta J. Cabot This is a story about Daniel, a guy with a unique talent and an even more unique problem: A great singing voice and the looks of his gorgeous sister. And how he and his family deal with his having breasts. And how he deals with getting turned on by his would-be girlfriend. And how he ends up as the female lead singer for a high-school pop band as well as a radio DJ. Never a dull moment with Batch Fourteen, and Dan & his gang.

 
Chapter Twenty-One:  Lights, Camera, Talk!

***** (Danny) *****

I looked at the camera, headset on my head, one hand near the controls, and the other hand still clutching the sheets of paper.  Time seemed to stretch as my senses went into overdrive.  In the back of my mind, I reasoned that this was like someone finding himself in an emergency and, because of the pumping adrenalin, my perception of time started to stretch. Fight or flight? Well, it has to be fight, this time.

From the time the cameraman finished counting down to when the camera's red light blinked on, it felt like it was a minute or more - more than enough time to compose myself and to think of what I wanted to say.

I couldn't do my regular spiel and go, "hey-hey-hey!"  So I looked into the camera and gave a small and personal smile.  "Good evening, folks," I said pleasantly into the camera in my best Nighthawk voice. From my headphones, I heard my voice as well as the sound of a peppy little tune that I didn't recognize. Tracey was playing some theme I haven't heard before as my music bed.

"How're you doing?" I said. "Welcome to an unusual evening here at KRPQ Radio, which is apparently the, ahem! home of yesterday's, today's and tomorrow's hits… don't worry, guys, we'll think up something else."  I couldn't help but giggle. "I am, in fact, broadcasting from the new KRPQ studios where all the fun happens.

"But first, a big hello and 'thank you' to Talia, Harry and Sally for holding down the fort, and thanks to that great new band, Unlimited Bandwidth, for visiting us here at the studio. And a big hello, too, to the viewers of KRPX.  If you don't recognize me, that's 'coz it's my first time on TV.  People call me the Nighthawk, and I am one of the regular DJs of KRPQ Radio.  Pleased ta meetcha."  I gave a small finger-wave, the kind that looked like you wanted to give someone's itch a scratch or something.

I decided to amp it up a bit. "Welcome to our RockrGrrl Evolution Concert special, and if you're not excited, well I am! Whooo!"

The cameraman gave me a signal.  "And I hope you keep me company and keep us tuned in for the next few hours or so. In the meantime, let's break for a little commercial."

The cameraman gave me the high-sign that meant we were off the air for the moment, and I breathed a sigh of relief.  Just behind our cameraman/director, Tracey had set up a large TV, so anyone coming in the booth would be able to watch what was going out on the air (it was angled slightly to the left, I suppose so that the glass wouldn't reflect the glare of the TV picture).  It was on a thirty-second delay, in order to allow someone to catch any gaffs on my part, or pull the plug if needed.  I gathered later that a thirty-second delay was pretty generous. Unprecedented, really. I suppose it was a concession to my being a TV virgin (as I am in many other things, heehee) and my not being savvy with all this on-air stuff yet. I suppose the ones who could pull the plug would be Mrs. Piper, Mr. Taylor, our cameraman-director, and the producer over at the TV station. But I resolved not to fumble and give them a reason to.

"Okay, miss," my cameraman-slash-director said. 

"Call me Robin," I said.  I still wasn't too used to the new handle, but I guess this was as good a time as any to get used to it…

"Okay, Robin," He smiled.  "You can call me Joey."  He listened to a wired walkie-talkie-like radio in his hand.  "Listen, you have maybe a minute or two to relax.  I'll signal you when it's about time."

"Thanks, Joey."

"Anyway," he clicked his radio off, "the station said that they're sending something to the email address your producer gave us."  He nodded in the direction of Tracey, who was in the producer's booth.  "I guess it's more instructions.  Sorry about that.  All of this was a bit of a surprise.  But I think it'll be okay."

I smiled at his effort to make me feel more relaxed, and nodded.  "Tracey?" I said, thumbing the in-ear intercom.  "I'm supposed to get an email sent to me."

"No problem, ahhh, Robin."  Tracey giggled.  Sheesh. Tracey's a space case. "The computer in there's all set up," she said.  "Just use your Gmail address."

Gmail address?  "Ummm, okay, Tracey, thanks."  What Gmail address?

I swiveled around and booted up the PC to the right of me.  I clicked the browser and moused on over to Google.  In Gmail, I clicked the scroll on the User ID window and saw "Nighthawk1234" as one of the user IDs.  I clicked that and guessed the password to be "nighthawk1234" as well, and it turned out that I guessed correctly. Wow, Tracey's pretty good.  I decided I'd change the password later, opened my inbox instead, and saw a new email message.

Attached was an Acrobat file and a hotlink.  I clicked the file open and then clicked the link.

Apparently the link was a chatroom link, and the computer logged me on as well as popped open a chat window with three other users already there: a MizzPiper, Tracey and someone named "TeeVeeBoss."

I keyed in "hi?" and everyone responded immediately.

"Hello, Robin," Mrs. Piper said, and Tracey responded with a "hey, boss," and a tongue-sticking-out emoji.

TeeVeeBoss had more to say.  "Hello, Robin.  I'm your TV executive producer, Mike. Your producer set up this little chat window where we can give instructions or comments, and you can ask any questions you like.  We won't bug you too much so as not to distract you, nor bug you with voice. The key is to relax and to pay attention to Joey and to your producer.  Okay?"

"Thanks, Mike," I typed.  "Appreciate it. But why a computer?"

"Oh, we can communicate by audio if you really want to - you can switch on the PC's mic and speakers. But it might interfere with your board so your producer set it up this way for the moment. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll improve on it later."

"Okay."

I looked over the sheets of paper and looked at the sequence of events.  "Seems like these will be pretty easy to manage, but I haven't done anything like this before."

"No problem, Robin," Mrs. Piper typed.  "Mike and I talked about it.  Play it any way you like, and as fast or as slow a pace as you like. They'll adjust on their end - we block-timed four hours' worth just in case, so you have a free hand.   But do try to follow the sequence of activities as they're listed, otherwise we'll lose our place and we might not be able to play the commercials properly."

"I thought commercials have to go out at specific times?"

"We've taken care of that," Mike typed.  "Whenever you feel like playing them is fine. The benefits of a small-time local operation hahaha. Seriously, though, Mrs. Piper has vouched for you with the sponsors, and if this works, we'll talk over how to do more of these things later.  Just take your time for now, and be natural."

"If you say so," I typed.

I suddenly had a thought. "Mike, Mizz Piper - is it all right if I take some listener calls? My radio program is known for that."

"Of course, Robin."  Ms Piper typed. "Perhaps after the concert video, though."

"Ummm, Robin?"  I heard Tracey over the headphones.  I looked up and saw her gesturing to the camera.  I saw Joey signal and he started doing a ten-count. 

"Back to work," I typed quickly. I tried to squash my rising panic, looked at the sheets of paper in front of me, and then looked back up at the camera and put an expectant little smile on my face.

At Joey's signal, I waited a beat before running my spiel.

"Welcome back, folks. You're tuned in to WKRPX-TV, and you're watching our simultaneous-transmission KRPQ-KRPX Post-Evolution Concert Special. And, speaking of the simulcast, if you're watching this on KRPX-TV, I suggest you turn off the sound, turn on your home entertainment's radio, tune in to KRPQ, and then put all the channels of your mixer or tuner to zero. Our sound magicians have mixed the sound to give you the best audio experience possible. But it'll only work if your audio channels are on zero.

"So. Assuming you've done as I asked, lie back and enjoy the ear candy.

"Now. Back to the program."

I smiled even more. "About the Evolution Concert - the concert was designed to be a venue for unpublished and amateur musical groups - that is, groups that don't have contracts with any recording company nor have any songs commercially available - and give them a chance at getting air time and be heard. The featured bands had to submit audition tapes, and they had to be female bands, of course, as the sponsor was RockrGrrl. For this event, Rockrgrrl defines 'female band' as bands with at least 50% of its members as female. Rockrgrrl is, after all, makers of arguably the best guitars specifically designed for girls and women. This will change in future, of course, but for now, Rockrgrrl will accept any band so long as half of the members are girls."

I paused for a bit. The material needs something more, so I ad-libbed a little and tried to recall as many girl groups as I could.

"Over the years," I said, "the popular music scene has been as much dominated by female groups and singers as male ones, such as acts like Girls Aloud, TLC, Pussycat Dolls and Destiny's Child." (I tried to think of old popular pop groups, deliberately skipping the current ones, of course, but only a few seemed to be coming to mind.)

"Most of the female groups that get exposure," I continued, now quoting from the paper but with a little bit of ad-libbing on my part, "at least in the pop scene, are mostly vocal groups. I guess for those that also play their own instruments, there aren't a lot. There are female groups, though, that were critically acclaimed but, compared to the men, didn't have the same level of mainstream success. The successful ones include the Runaways, the Indigo Girls and Luscious Jackson. But, of course, there are the two iconic girl bands of the eighties which did have a lot of mainstream success - The Bangles and The GoGos, and Ann and Nancy Wilson, of course, the duo that represented feminine pop in the late seventies - Heart. Although they only fronted their band. That's my mom's favorite band, by the way." I waved at the camera. "Hi, Mom! No need to check up on me - I'm here on TV, see? Heehee.

"Anyway, as I was saying - there are very few new ones in the mainstream music scene that are all-girl bands AND play their own musical instruments. And that's where RockrGrrl's focus lies.

"There are, however, a lot more groups where they are just front-lined by girls, such as Courtney Love of Hole, Michelle Branch and Jessica Harp of The Wreckers, and Heart, of course. So, to insure more participants, the creators of the Evolution Concert decided not to limit it to completely girls bands. Just so long as half or more of the band are girls, and it's led by girls, it's okay."

As I spoke, out of the corner of my eye, I saw messages being displayed in the chat room window on my computer screen. "Slow down, Robin," Mike typed. "Our graphics people are trying to cope here. They're having a hard time matching video to what you're saying. Slow down the spiel. And get the pre-recorded stuff out."

I stopped myself from nodding at that, as the people out there in TV Land would see, and would wonder what the heck I was nodding at. I glanced down briefly at the pre-printed notes, made it a casual kind of move and tried not to make it look like I was trying to find my place.

"Fortunately," I continued, largely quoting from the paper, "lots of excellent female talent were unearthed by the concert. Let's look at some of the auditions. Roll the video, please, Tracey?"

After the video started running, Joey gave me a thumbs-up. "Okay, Robin - we're out for the moment." I nodded at that, but stopped myself from letting out a "whoop!" when Joey made patting motions. "But try not to break character, though. We'll keep on shooting video just in case something happens to the tape and we need to cut back to you."

I looked at Joey, puzzled. "So what do I do?"

"You know when Diane Sawyer or Lester Holt sort of shuffle papers and talk to their co-anchors, or chat with the director while the credits are rolling?"

Ahhh! "Okay, Joey - got it." I thumbed the intercom switch. "Tracey? Can I ask for a glass of water or something? My throat's gettin' a bit dry. I think it's nerves."

"Right, Boss," I heard Tracey's voice, and, in a few moments, she was back with a big cup from Coffee Bean she had delivered. Obviously she was briefed since she was keeping in character. She even had a costume of sorts - big headphones hanging around her neck, a clipboard tucked under her arm, and a cute, chic pink-and-white jacket with silver piping, and with the station's new logo on the back. She looked like the epitome of a radio station producer. And I just noticed - she had make-up on, which went well with her expensive now-impeccably-cut-and-brushed hairdo. Very nice, and it made her feminine and cute.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "Tracey, you must be some kind of mind reader. Thanks! And you look great, by the way!" I took the big paper cup, took the plastic bubble-lid off and noisily slurped the coffee. Ahhh!

Tracey blushed at the compliment. She handed me a paper napkin and I wiped some foam off my lip. She gestured, and I wiped foam from the tip of my nose as well. She belatedly handed me the straw, which I turned down. "Well," she said, "I knew you liked caramel coffee, so I ordered one. I was just waiting for a chance to bring it to you."

I ignored all that and focused more on her and her look. She was so desperate to please, and to pass as a girl. "Did you go to a salon today?" I asked . "That's a pretty style. Suits you. And the make-up. What can I say?"

Her blush deepened. "Yes, I did," she dimpled. "Joanne brought me to her mom's hair salon. But I did my own make-up. Is it okay?" Most of the girls had Joanne or her mom take car of their hair. Joanne's a genius when it came to hair.

"Totally. Subtle, and very elegant. I especially like the subdued lipstick. Most would have gone for the over-the-top bright red."

"Julian gave me some advice - I told him I might be going on TV tonight."

"Julian? Over on the island? Danielle's stylist?" Tracey nodded. "Did he show you pictures of his poodle?" We sniggered at that. "I love the jacket, too. Can I get one, as well? Although, I'd like one that's not in pink..."

"Mom had you included in the list for jackets. She got Danielle included in the list, too. But, I'm sorry Da... I mean Robin - I think it's pink, too..."

She saw my disappointed expression. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll fix it."

She switched tacks and was all business. "Listen," she said, and referred to her clipboard. Seems the clipboard was more than just a prop, "as you saw from the list, we've got several video clips scheduled. A little video from RockrGrrl - something called 'How RockrGrrl Guitars are Made,' some live crowd shots, video clips of the finalists, plus MTV-style trailers of the top three, the awards, the encore song, and a little speech from the RockrGrrl chairman of the board. All in all, that's a little over thirty minutes of video, plus about five commercial breaks - that's a total of about forty-five minutes. Gives you about fifteen minutes of microphone time to make an hour show, not including the concert itself. But, given that you're gonna be doing phone-in calls, they're ready to pre-empt the next show if you need more time."

"Whoa!" I said. "Ain't that a big deal, Tracey? And what about the other programs?"

"I guess, but RockrGrrl sez that's what they want, and they're willing to pay for our airtime. Mom sez we need the sponsors. The KPRX guys say they need the sponsors, too. Plus, RockrGrrl sez they might want to air this in other syndicated markets. If it goes well, that is."

I started getting nervous... I mean, more nervous than I already was. "Jesus, Tracey..."

Tracey reached out and gave me hug. "You'll do fine, girl. Believe it."

"'Kay..." I let the girl reference pass.

"'Kay," she agreed. "Now, I'm gonna leave you alone, and don't stop mugging for the camera!" We both giggled. "Hope you don't need to go to the bathroom."

I looked at her. "Wish you hadn't said that... I have this urge to go pee, now..."

She giggled, waved to Joey, and left the booth.

"I'm being serious!" But she had already left. I guess I had to hold it for an hour or so, then. Arrrgh!

The RockrGrrl Infomercial was up next and then the first third of the video of the actual event would follow. I went through the available notes that Tracey had popped up on my screen, and tried to think of some interesting spiels to add to the material.

I watched Joey out of the corner of my eye. When I thought he was about ready to start, I faced my computer's monitor. I was in quarter profile, and faked typing something. Joey did his five count, and as he reached one, and I heard the station jingle play in my headphones, I turned towards the camera.

"Welcome back folks." I did the girl-wave again. "We'll be starting the Evolution Concert in a bit, but before that, let's find out a little bit about the company that made it all possible."

(Over my headphones, I heard Joey. "They're playing the RockrGrrl intro,'" he said. "Sound is on standby. Aaand... Go, Robin!")

"The founder of RockrGrrl, Isabel Hargraves, the American socialite wife of the British industrialist and electronics magnate, Sir Richard Hargraves, found the inspiration for RockrGrrl in their daughter Katherine, a classical music prodigy whose talents have been compared to the great classical as well as contemporary masters.

"At the age of nine, doctors discovered that little Katherine Hargraves had a tumor in her brain which necessitated surgery. It was not cancerous, and it was not an unheard-of condition, and the operation to remove it a tried and tested one. The little girl recovered but, because of the operation, her physical growth was stunted. Even with artificial growth hormones and other medical therapies, young Katie never reached more than a height of four and a half feet, which was near her height prior to the operation. Though technically a dwarf, her body was appropriately proportional. And, with her ability, everyone was so impressed by her classical musical talents, widely acknowledged by music scholars to surpass any of those of her generation, that her condition was usually ignored or overlooked.

"Still, though mentally and physically capable, the young lady found it difficult to indulge her art because most musical instruments didn't fit her small hands and stature. Her mother had to have special instruments handcrafted to suit her size."

As I read the words on the monitor, in the little PIP box on the upper part of my screen I saw a picture of little Katie Hargraves as she was today. She seemed like a very pretty young woman, except that she was the height of a tall eight-, or maybe a twelve-year old, at most. And she was twelve years older than me.

The little PiP box showed the exact video feed they were airing on TV, though delayed. It was actually a little distracting and it was messing up my rhythm, so I minimized it to a less distracting size but with the pictures still discernible. I looked back (casually) at the notes and continued my spiel.

"And she was where Lady Isabel found her inspiration. Along with little Katie, Lady Isabel founded the RockrGrrl line of guitars, specially made to fit the smaller hands and stature of young musicians, especially girls."

"Hold it, Robin," Joey said through my headset. "They want you to pause here for some video. I'll cue you in."

I nodded almost imperceptibly, and waited. In the little PiP window, I saw some cute kids with RockrGrrl guitars making believe they were a rock band.

"Go!" Joey said after a while, and I continued on.

"So was born the RockrGrrl line of guitars. The name itself was thought up by Katie's teacher and later boyfriend, the well-known European performance artist, Lars De Groot. He found the inspiration in the Spice Girls, which was the most famous pop music girl group at the time." (Later on, I would recall inadvertently raising an eyebrow at that. I hoped no one saw that. And who ever heard of Lars de Groot? What a name, huh? Maybe he's a refugee from The Guardians of the Galaxy...)

"Over the years, the new company established a solid reputation with many female musicians and artists in the pop music industry for producing reliable high-quality guitars, but the company largely went unnoticed by the general public."

A rousing, fanfare-type theme (reminiscent of a disco-ized version of, maybe, the Star Wars theme - hokey, sure, but it seemed to work) interjected itself, and I heard Joey tell me to pause again. In the little PiP window, I saw a splashy title sequence roll, and in glitzy American Idol-style graphics, the words "The First RockrGrrl Evolution Concert" flashed on the screen.

Tracey (or someone else) reduced the volume on the music bed, and Tracey cued me this time.

"To promote RockrGrrl's revamped line of guitars, and to help discover new female musical talent, RockrGrrl launched the Evolution Concert Festival." At which point, the music rose to a crescendo and the graphics exploded in the little PiP screen.

I continued. "Planned as a regional music competition with, initially, three concerts spaced three months apart, the Evolution Concert will select three winners, one per concert, with a fourth concert pitting these finalists against each other." I paused a bit - this was news to me. Jeez, I need to talk to the guys, and quick.

But I shook my head (not too obviously, of course) and continued on with the job at hand.

"And, tonight, simulcast over KRPX TV and KRPQ Radio, we bring you the First Evolution Concert, East Coast Finals!"

I took a peek at the PIP window, and saw the beginning of the concert video.

"Okay, Robin," Joey said, "we're off for the next fifteen or twenty minutes, then you have to break for a commercial. You can relax for a bit."

Fifteen minutes? Wow... "Bathroom?" I asked. Joey grinned and nodded. I pulled the headset off my head and made a beeline for the bathroom.

As I got there, one of the KRPX guys (the KRPX tech in charge of the electricals, I think) was coming out of the men's room. He smiled at me and I smiled back, hopefully in a polite way instead of nervous or guilty-like. Good thing he stood in front of the men's room door so I couldn't go in, which reminded me in the nick of time. I veered to the left, and towards the ladies'.

"Hiya," I said as I passed him. The guy continued to smile, and nodded pleasantly. I recognized that type of smile, having seen it a lot when I was in Dannie mode. I nervously hurried through the door.

I let the door close behind me and breathed a sigh of relief. Arrrgh! Need to pee! I randomly picked a stall, got in, shut the door, scootched down my skinny jeans and underwear, and sat. (It was a bit inconvenient to have to sit first, but after experiencing a few awkward moments before when girls noticed me standing, I tend to sit down now every time I used a stall.) I whizzed what felt like gallons and, afterwards, wiped the "splash-back" off of my butt with some tissue. At least, after having done this a few times, I knew what to do now. When I had the pants up most of the way, I adjusted my junk so that it was mostly in between my legs, pulled the thong gaff up, and then the pants over everything. I still didn't push my balls into my abdominal cavity as I was still scared to do that.

So I did the best I could, zipped and buckled up, and then ran my hand over the front. No telltale bump so I think I'm okay. But even though the jeans were a bit stretchy, I couldn't take long strides coz the pants would still, ummm, pinch my, ahhh, delicate parts. So I ended up walking in that mincing kind of way that's so stereotypically girlie.

I stepped out of the stall, walked up to the sink and washed my hands. As I finished washing, I heard a flush and another girl came out of one of the other stalls. I never heard anyone else come in. It was Sally Marshall, the cute "news reporter" of the station. Yeah, this operation needed a reporter like a fifth wheel on a car. But who am I to criticize?

I tried to act nonchalant, but I couldn't help notice how cute she was. She was even cuter than during the interview.

"Hey, Sally," I said. "I thought you already left the station."

"Hi, Robin," she said, and stepped up to the counter to wash her hands as well. "Actually, I was about to. I just finished up some paperwork - reimbursement forms, et cetera. How's the show going?"

"Pretty okay," I said, "though I don't mind telling you I'm scared to death."

She giggled. "Oh, don't worry about it. I talked to Tracey a few minutes ago while you were doing your thing with the camera, and she said you were doing real good."

"You seem to know your way around the camera. Have you been on TV before?"

"Well, not exactly," she said as she dried her hands. "I've done several TV commercials and magazine ads before doing radio. Y'know, for jeans and such. I did learn one thing from my modeling, though - when you're in front of the camera, just relax and you'll be fine."

No wonder! "Wow, you're a model?" I stood there and watched her brush her hair. Which reminded me. But... ahh, damn! I forgot my purse and the all-important brush. I keep on forgetting the purse. But Sally noted my predicament and lent me her brush. As I learned later, no girl readily lends her comb or brush, and no girl would readily use someone else's. Thinking back, I could only assume that she liked me, and felt comfortable around me.

She smiled modestly and answered my question. "About a dozen campaigns - just local stuff back in my hometown. You probably never even heard of it."

"Where's your hometown anyway?"

"Just a no-name little burg way out in the northwest called Spiral. The tallest building we have isn't even ten floors high."

"And I thought our town was bad..." Both of us giggled.

"Nahhh, it's great here. But my town's nice, too. I love the people and the place. It's just that I wanted a little more excitement than Spiral can give. "

"Is that what made you want to visit us?"

"I wanted to get out of Spiral for a while, and when I heard my aunt was being sent here by a company she did some work for, I decided to come along. Truthfully, I didn't really care where - I just wanted a change. And while I was here I saw an ad for a radio DJ, and here I am."

"What does your aunt do, anyway?"

"She's a biochemist, specializing in nutrition and physical therapy for the Kinkaide Community Clinic back home. Right now, she's working on this thing for a big pharmaceutical company. She was assigned here for a while, but she's had to go to a specialist facility in the west coast with the facilities she needed in order to continue her work."

Hmmm. "You'll be leaving us soon, then?"

She smiled. "We'll see. Aunt Eleanor said I could stay if I wanted."

I looked at Sally in the mirror as she fixed her makeup. She really was very cute.

"I've only done one national commercial," Sally continued, "and I was just one of several girls that time. When I was auditioning, Mizz Piper recognized me from that commercial, and asked me to be part of this radio station gig. How about you? Any thoughts on doing commercials yourself?"

"Me? No!" I was mortified at the thought.

She giggled. "Ain't nothing to it, honey. Yes, you're a little less tall that most models, but a girl as gorgeous as you will do well, I'm sure."

I shrugged, feigning casualness. "Well, in any case, I don't think I'll have an opportunity..." I handed her brush back, unobtrusively making sure there was none of the hair coloring stuff on it that Joanne applied.

She put her arm around my shoulders as we walked out of the bathroom. "Leave it all to me, girlfriend."

Oh, no...

Sally decided to go to Tracey's production booth and I went back to mine. I put on my headphones and waved to Joey. I pointed to my wrist, asking how much time we had left.

"Plenty of time, Robin," Joey said in my ear.

I snuck a look at the little PiP box in the monitor, and the video was still running. It was showing Jo's and Astrid's band - the girls we met in the dressing room at the concert. I double-clicked the PiP window to maximize it.

Jo was playing her guitar, moving around the stage. The tassels of her black leather jacket swung as she moved all over the stage. She looked awfully sexy in her white tank, jacket, high heels and skin-tight black leggings. She sang and played pretty good, except for a few off-key spots. If this was the old American Idol, Randy Jackson would probably be saying she was "pitchy," but on the whole, she was pretty okay. And pretty sexy, too. After a bit, her bass player, Astrid, stepped up beside her in a duplicate outfit and laid down a mean accompanying backbeat with her four-string bass.

After they wrapped up the song, Jo started up a new one - an updated and sexier version of Lee Aaron's "Whatcha Do To My Body." If it weren't for her, ummm, "pitchiness," it would have been perfect. I didn't catch their singing at the concert nor in the DVD Tracey lent me. I couldn't help but whistle. "Wow!"

"Robin?" I heard Joey in my headset. "Just to let you know, the video is just about to run out. Best to start getting in character now."

I nodded. "Right." I restored the PIP screen's size, looked over the notes and started getting ready. I clicked on the intercom. "Tracey?" I called, "Joey said we're about to be starting again soon. What am I supposed to be doing?"

"Ummm, lemme check." After a moment, Tracey clicked back on. "Boss, you just need to segue us into the next commercial No big."

"Okay, thanks!"

"Good luck!" I heard Sally call out. I looked up and saw Sally sitting beside Tracey waving at me. I grinned back and waved.

"Here we go, Robin," Joey called. "In five, four, three, two..."

I swung around to face the camera. "You have been watching the RockrGrrl Evolution Concert. We'll be taking a short break, but be sure to stick around for the second half. Seeya in a bit!"

"And we're out!"

"Hmmm," I said. "Seems there's really nuthin' to this TV thing..." I heard Tracey give me a razzberry. I laughed. "Just jokin', Tracey."

When we were back on the air, I introduced the next segment, an infomercial on RockrGrrl, and how their guitars were actually made, with lots of behind-the-scene segments that showed the company's shop floor somewhere in New Hampshire (of all places) and actual guitars being put together. Little tiny Katie Hargraves did the tour. She looked really small, especially when she was walking around the shop floor next to regular-sized people, but she was so totally unselfconscious about it. The factory people seemed to genuinely like her as they waved to her. She looked very pretty, actually - like a very pretty pint-size hottie with boobs. And when she turned in profile, it was clear that she was no child, especially how the form-fitting blouse, bright leggings, tight skirt and high heels outlined her sexy though tiny (but proportional) curves. Her height actually looked normal when she was in a tight shot on her own.

At the end of the infomercial, Lady Isabel, Katie's mother and the owner of RockrGrrl, took over and explained the company's mission and vision, and she ended it with contact details, how to order their products, and the company's website address.

I then came back on and introduced the next part of the concert.

This second to the last part of the concert went just as smooth as the previous part - with Tracey, Sally and I not having to do anything while the video played. (I was a bit nervous, though, coz my band and I were the last ones to play in this part of the video.) Will the people watching connect me, in my Robin persona, to me as Dannie? I tried to submerge that fear and we chatted while we waited for Joey to signal me back on. Joey was clearly busy talking on the headset with someone from the "OB van," whatever and wherever that was, and we left him to it.

Tracey was getting worried, though - while she, Sally (we had decided to include Sally in the show) and I planned how we'd handle the end-part and I continued play-acting in front of the camera, Tracey would often break off in our conversation to handle the increasing number of telephone call-ins.

"Ummm, Robin, there are a lot of callers piling up."

"Just be cool, Tracey, and tell them to call back after the concert video. Just like the others."

"If you say so."

"Don't worry, we'll manage. Right, Sally?"

"Sure, Robin," Sally said, and she gave Tracey a little hug. "Don't worry, Tracey. I'll help manage the calls later."

"So, what's next on the schedule," I asked Tracey.

Tracey consulted her ever-present clipboard. "Right after the Unlimited Bandwidth part, there's gonna be some behind-the-scenes shots from the concert, so you're gonna have to ad-lib the voice-over. Mike from the TV station will be texting some cues over the chatroom, and then some backstage shots of some of the finalists."

"Jeez, Tracey! Ad-lib? Oh, no!"

"Don't worry, Robin," Sally said. "It's no worse than on the radio. We'll get you through this. Be cool."

I took a deep breath. "If you say so, Sally. How about you help me with the ad-lib for the behind-the-scenes stuff?"

"Wait, Robin," Joey interrupted, apparently listening in. "That'll be a problem. We only have the one camera."

"Hmmm," I thought that through. Joey's right - how do we manage that? "Well, Joey, how about we do this - after a length of video footage you cut back to me, right?"

"Right…"

"Well, how about Sally and I take turns? After one cutback, it's me, and then the next cutback it's Sally, and then me again. And as the video plays, Sally and I can do some ad-libbing. You know? That way, there are no jarring camera pans and zooms."

"Hmmm. You've done this before, it seems. Okay - that sounds do-able. But you realize, though, that you'll have to limit your on-screen interaction."

"That's okay. We'll limit our chats to off-screen."

"Why limit our chats to off-screen?" Sally asked.

"Joey can't pan between the two booths, Sally," I explained. "so we have to take turns being on TV."

"Well, lemme fix that." She unplugged her headset, stood up, picked up a duplicate set of my "script," kissed Tracey bye-bye on the cheek, and promptly walked over to my booth. I buzzed her in and she sat in the seat in front of me. Grinning big, she held out her headset jack and I plugged her into my board. She gave me a wink and started going through her script.

"Okay, then. Lemme clear it with the bosses." Joey turned away and talked to someone via his wired walkie.

"That reminds me," I said. "Tracey? Maybe we need approval from your mom as well?"

Tracey nodded. "Already taken care of, Robin." She was just hanging up on someone she was talking to on the telephone from inside the booth. "That was mom. She approved Sally's overtime, and your plan."

"Huh?" Sally said. "But, Trace, I wasn't asking for…"

Tracey gave her a wink. "S'okay, Sally. Mom insisted." Tracey then turned to me. "Although she said, in the future, she wants to be consulted first before you make program changes like that."

I blushed in embarrassment. Yes, I should have…

Joey closed his wired radio. "Girls, Mike, our station manager, also approved the change. He says to leave it all up to Robin." He turned to me. "Robin, all Mike wants is that you follow the sequencing in the original script, and that you make room for the commercials in the appropriate sequence."

"It's all in the script, Robin," Tracey said. "How 'bout you, Sally? Are you set?"

Sally gave her a high sign.

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Guess we're as ready as we can ever be. Sally, don't forget to help in the ad-libbing."

"Especially when you have to ad-lib stuff for the Unlimited Bandwidth portion," Tracey giggled.

Sally looked at Tracey inquisitively. I turned back to my producer. "Tracey..." I said in warning.

"Sorry heehee. But, after that, it'll be clear sailing." Tracey looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. "It'll be the announcement of the winner," she continued, "and then a commercial from RockrGrrl, the awarding, the final song, and then you wrap it up."

"Wrap it up?"

"Take it easy, Robin. Take a look at the last few pages of your notes."

I agitatedly pawed through the pages in front of me. Hmmm. "Okay, Tracey," I said. "Found 'em." I showed the page to Sally and she nodded.

"Cool," Tracey said. Wait for Joey's cue, 'kay?"

"Yep." I also looked through the stuff they sent through via email - a duplicate of the printed pages. I went to the bottom part. At the top of the section called "Wrap Up Notes," there were parts underlined, and a notation saying that these parts were to be "read exactly as written."

"Yikes..." I muttered. I proceeded to change the font so that the text on the screen was bigger (and therefore clearer), and adjusted the view to "draft" so the paging didn't break in the middle of a sentence. That would make my monitor like my own personal teleprompter.

"Robin?" Sally asked. "Anything wrong? We're about to start again…"

"I'm cool, Sally. Joey, don't forget the countdown to warn me when I'm about to go on."

"No problem, Robin," Joey responded.

I deliberately turned away from the camera to stay in profile, pretending to look at my monitor, and waited. Sally giggled at my mugging. *Sigh.* And after a bit, Joey started his count.

"Here we go, girls! And five! Four! Three! Two!..." He pointed to me.

"And there you have it, kiddies," I said over the music bed Tracey had snuck in. "All ten of the Evolution Concert finalists. Cool, huh?" My mind flashed to my own band's performance and felt the pride I had for my band swell, but I tried not to think too much about it.

"And before we get to the awarding, some of the RockrGrrl folks took some behind-the-scenes footage. And here with me to help with that is Sally Marshall. Say hi, Sally."

"Hi, Sally," she said, and giggled.

"Ignore her, folks."

Sally stuck her tongue out at me and giggled again. I suppose it was just her vamping for the camera. Still, I found it very cute.

"Hello again, everyone," Sally said. "It's me again. How do you like the show so far?"

"I'm sure they love it, Sally," I said, clapped my hands once and started rubbing them together in anticipation. "And I'm sure they're gonna love it even more 'coz in a little bit, we're gonna go to the the announcement of the winner, but for those who already know, don't spoil it for those who don't, all right?"

I turned to my new co-host. "I was there, Sally," I said, "and it was a heck of a concert. The organizers did a real great job, and that's not counting the contestants."

"I believe you, Robin. I heard that the bands did a lot to prepare for their moment in the sun." She turned to face the camera. "As you guys may know, all of the bands had an opportunity to pick their three songs, on a first-come first-serve basis, meaning who requested for a song first got to reserve it. And once they had their songs lined up, all of them prepared. Prepared a lot! And the Evolution Concert staff went around and checked up on them while they did." A video-graphic replaced our images while a music bed played, and Joey started to explain.

"Okay, guys they're ready to roll the video," Joey said over our headsets, "but your audio is still live. Get ready to do your voice-overs, but stay in character in case they need to switch back to you."

Sally and I looked at the PiP screen in my monitor, and as soon as the first of the behind-the-scene clips came on, we looked at our cue sheets.

"The first of the ten bands that got through the auditions is called 'Eloquence,'" Sally began. "Here they are practicing their songs in the Jubilee Center, on the week of the Concert. It's headlined by Jo and Astrid, the group's lead vocalist and bass player, and they were the ones who selected their group's songs - rock classics by Lee Aaron, The Who, and Kansas. Pretty eclectic tastes, wouldn't you say, Robin?"

"Yes, indeedy, Sally. I hear their bass player's some sort of heavy music aficionado. I wouldn't be surprised if Astrid really did the picking." We listened to the music a bit. Too bad Jo wasn't in costume this time.

"Who did you get to talk to?" Sally asked.

Ooops! "Ummm, some of the people from the other bands, I think. I can't remember..." We watched some other clips of Eloquence practicing. Sally didn't bring it up again. Whew! Close call.

Using the little factoids in our cue sheets, we talked about the members of each band as their pictures were flashed on the screen, and, on the fly, we ad-libbed - we talked about our impressions of the band members, like how they were dressed, what we liked about each one, what we liked about their performance and so on. If we had something we didn't like or took exception to, we just kept quiet about it, per improv and radio announcer rules. In the end, we ended up saying only positive things about everyone.

With our band, Sally was so effusive, especially about me, I mean Dannie... She gushed over Dannie's friendliness, her looks, her singing, her hot outfit, and so forth. I agreed with her, of course, but in an off-hand sort of way. I did my best to steer away from talking about my band and to talk about the others instead. Apparently Sally also liked one of the other bands as well - one of the more girly acts that featured an all-girl lineup, whose songs were from Tori Amos, Geri Halliwell and Taylor Swift.

"So," an off-camera person asked Jo, their lead, while the band rested between songs, "how do you feel about your band being selected as one of the ten finalists?"

"I feel grateful to the people from Rockrgrrl for selecting us. We're pretty proud of our band, and we're grateful for the chance to perform for everybody on TV."

"It was inevitable, really," Astrid said off-camera.

The camera swung around and focused on her.

"Why do you say that," the faceless interviewer asked.

There was Astrid, her face glistening with sweat that had also seeped through her cotton jumper. She looked awfully sexy.

"It was inevitable that we'd become finalists simply because we are one hundred percent awesome," she said deadpan.

"Whoa!" the rest of the band, and the camera crew reacted. The camera panned again and caught some of the girls laughing, and giving each other high-fives.

"Here's a couple more of the other bands," Sally continued. We went through the rest of the clips and saw them all in action.

"This rili is super," Brittney (can you believe it), the blonde lead for that all-girl band that Sally liked, said. "It's like totally unbelievable?"

She and her band had on outfits that were more like the stereotypical outfits that dancers would wear when they were working out - tights, leg warmers, leotards and terrycloth wristbands and sweatbands. Except, of course, for the high heels. It was like they were refugees from some eighties exercise video.

"People are sooo lucky they will finally get to see us perform? I can't wait for the other bands to *bleep* up so that we win the contest already?" Guess the censors had gone over the tape beforehand.

If, ahem, "Brittney," smiled when she said that or something, then it would have been funny. But she was serious when she said that. As it was, the interviewer tried to laugh and sort of cover that up, but I think he failed. To get past that awkward moment, He asked her to introduce the other members.

Whatever I thought of their band, I had to admit they were all gorgeous. I guess the big problem was that they all thoroughly knew it, too.

The other bands and members were also shown, and the video featured them practicing in Jubilee Center, or just goofing around.

For my band, the organizers weren't able to film us practicing. Sally explained that since we... I mean the band... were last-minute qualifiers, it was too late to give them a practice timeslot at the venue. So we... ummm, "they," just practiced in our usual place. What the producers did was they spliced together some video that our sound mixer from Mario's took of us, plus some of our practice sessions in Mongo's garage (someone made sure to make the shots look generic enough that no one would be able to track down Mongo's house or Mario's place. From the shakiness and the general quality of the video from the garage, I assumed they were home movies that Mongo's mom took and not Joanne.

"That's not from the Jubilee Center," Sally remarked.

"Yeah," I said. "That looks like home movies. I think I recognize where the first video was taken - that was from Unlimited Bandwidth's regular gigs." I didn't mention Mario's, keeping in mind the injunction against freebie adverts.

Mostly, they showed little bits of us singing songs either at Mario's or at Mongo's garage interspersed by some clips of the band fooling around with each other during breaks in the garage, or Janet or I interacting with the audience at Mario's. Mostly me, actually.

Each of our pictures were flashed, and Sally talked a bit about each of us, although that only amounted to our first names and some inconsequential details, like our preferences in music, what our hobbies were, et cetera. Just like the other bands. She didn't say anything about us winning the event, although, given the previous show, that seemed a little silly.

"Isn't Dannie absolutely gorgeous?" Sally enthused instead.

"I guess," I said. On screen was a little bit of our gang's usual antics, with Janet dousing me with a bottle of water, and and then me chasing her around the garage as everyone laughed. That was a good time, I remembered.

"Here's Eloquence again," Sally said and we saw Jo tuning her guitar and Astrid conferring with their drummer. "They look real serious."

"They sure do," I said. "No wonder they played so well. Actually, everyone did well, I think."

Our cameraman made a small gesture.

"That's it for our little behind-the-scenes segment of the RockrGrrl Evolution Concert," I said. "In a few minutes, it'll be the announcement of the winner, so stay tuned." We heard the station jingle play in our headsets, and then we heard our camera man.

"Aaand, we're clear!" Joey said in our ears. "The commercial's running. You guys can relax for a bit. Great job, by the way. Have you guys done this kind of thing before?"

"Well, I haven't, but Sally has."

Sally looked down in false modesty. "I've done a few TV commercials."

"Well, I think you two did great. I think you guys can even do this kind of thing regularly."

Sally was about to get a drink when Joey signaled. "Stay put, Sally. I need you ready and in character, please. We'll be back in just a while. They're saying that they aren't playing any more commercials, just one of RockrGrrl's and then the station ID."

"Darnit!" she said and comically snapped her fingers. "And I needed to go, too."

"You're telling me!" I said, and theatrically squirmed in my seat.

"So you thought doing TV was easy, huh?" Tracey cackled.

"Ah, shut up, Tracey," I said mock-angrily.

The commercial was over quickly, and Sally and I continued with our spiel, relying heavily on our crib sheets, explaining the criteria used to score the contestants, and then giving short bios of the judges while their static pictures were flashed. There were eight of them, which included three Grammy awardees and nominees, a well-known pop music songwriter, a professor from some hoity-toity music conservatory I didn't know, two well-known television and movie producers, and Katie Hargraves. Heavy credentials all around.

In the event of a tie, Sally further explained, Katie Hargraves would be the deciding vote - her vote to be counted twice, if needed, but we told everyone that it was unnecessary as there was no tie.

On the screen, the night's master of ceremonies climbed up the stage - some unknown official from Rockrgrrl that fancied himself as some sort of TV presenter (to be fair, though, he did the MC-ing competently).

He introduced each band by name, giving each a chance to bow or curtsey. The editors didn't take out the part of me showing off (I had fired off a lick from my little imitation junior Strat when it was our turn). That also highlighted the fact that I had changed out of my leggings and into a short pouf skirt.

He then went over the prizes, which were small cash prizes for all the finalists, limited-edition guitars for the runners-up, and for the winners - a ten thousand-dollar cash prize, RockrGrrl guitars, a chance to compete in the grand finals and - the real prize - a limited contract to perform at some concerts and a one-year "on spec" recording contract with one of the leading recording companies.

A drum roll started playing. Eloquence was announced as the runner-up, and everyone applauded. And then it was our turn.

"And the winner for the East Coast Finals of the First Evolution Festival Concert is..." the drum roll went interminably long... "Unlimited Bandwidth!"

Yes, I was there, but I didn't remember the audience going almost berserk. I guess I was a bit shellshocked at the time. The audience applauded long and hard. Sally clapped as well. Keeping up appearances, I clapped, too.

Janet and I, or rather Janet and Dannie, were invited to say a few words. All I could remember at the time was that I mumbled some forgettable words, and then being lifted onto my guys' shoulders. This time around, I couldn't look at the me on the screen, so I still didn't see or hear what I had said this time.

In any case, they wrapped up the show with us singing our encore song, confetti raining down on all of us finalists, and then they had the credits rolling down over the video . Sally and I in the studio said a few farewell remarks, told everyone about the post-show program coming up, and signed off. Sorry for being so blasé about it, but I've gotten over the whole thing already.

Joey, the TV techs and Tracey (who had walked in) applauded and, grinning, Sally and I stood and took our bows.

"Great work, guys," Joey said. "Really great work."

"Thanks, Joey," I grinned. "What's next?" I popped in a pre-recorded cartridge which is supposed to have several songs and commercials, which gave us time to reset the booth.

"Well, I don't know about you," said Joey, "but me and my guys are gonna break down our equipment and get out of your hair as quickly as we can. You got another one after?"

"Uh, we're almost done for the night except for that one after-program, and then Dennis Oldfield, the nighttime deejay will come in for his program, and then it's back to regular programming."

"Okay. We'll try and be quick then."

"Oh, yeah," Tracey said. "Dennis is just in the lounge. Should I go fetch him?"

"Just tell him to go have a break and we'll call him when we're done with our phone-in show, Tracey."

Joey gave instructions to his techs and they started taking out their TV equipment and props. It hardly took any time, and before I knew it, my booth looked like nothing happened, except that there were KRPQ posters still hanging.

The whole time, his people were sneaking looks at me and Sally. I took my cue from Sally, tried not to take it personally and just pretended not to notice. But old men leering at you is a little creepy.

"Listen," Joey said from inside my booth after all his people had left, "sorry to have to run, but I just wanna say it was great working with you guys." He shook Tracey's hand, then Sally's, which made me the last one.

"And if you wanna get together or something," he said to me, slipping a business card in my hand, "just gimme a call."

With that, he left.

"Oooh!" Sally squealed. "'Just gimme a call!' Oooh!"

Tracey giggled.

"Oh, shut up, you guys," I groused. "He's old, and he isn't even my type!"

"Tall, dark and handsome isn't your type?"

"I'm taking a break," I huffed, and mock-marched out of the booth and into the bathroom.

Sally and Tracey hugged each other and laughed their heads off.

to be continued...

 

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