DANNY Chapter 41 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 ends up as the female lead singer for a high-school cover band as well as a radio DJ. The rockin' and the dancin' continues in Chapter 41, coz there's never a dull moment with Batch Fourteen, and Dan & his gang.

 
Chapter Forty-One:  Bribes

***** (Mike) *****

I looked at Dannie and the kids dancing and singing. It's amazing to see. It reminded me of the Michael Jackson concert that I attended back in high school, crossed with that movie from ten years ago - "High School Musical." But when I looked at the screen with the roving shot of the audience, the rabid kids reminded me more of this 80s movie I saw about the Beatles called "I Wanna Hold Your Hand."

I can't believe the goldmine Melody had unearthed. I was a little jealous, actually.

When she broached the idea of putting together a concert-type show to kick off her radio station's reboot, she said she wanted us as a partner or sponsor simply because we worked together on that Rockrgrrl show, and she needed a TV station. But I wasn't too keen on it. I mean, radio? I, in fact gave my people who attended Melody's planning sessions a stern talking to - why did they so blithely assume it was already a done deal?

Truth be told, though, everything turned out okay - none of the things they committed to went to waste since we still ended up partnering.

The reason I wasn't too keen on her new show was because we didn't have a big sponsor running things this time, like Rockrgrrl, to fund us, and, listening to Melody's plan, even in our provincial little burg, her new show would cost more than a million to put up - something unusual around these parts. And that didn't even include on-air costs.

Melody needed a Friday or Saturday primetime slot, but I said I had all my Fridays and Saturdays fully booked already. The only way I would agree is if she bought out the advertiser's spots. She didn't agree, of course - she wanted me to give them up, saying that would be my station's investment in the show. In return, she said all the advertising spots on her show could all go to KRPX - the income from all the advertising would therefore go to me. I mean the station.

Nevertheless, I wasn't too keen on the risk. I mean, who would buy spots for a show promoting a radio station?

I told her exactly that, plus I said I wasn't sure if the network would even allow me to pre-empt shows they've already booked with us.

But she clearly had done her homework: later, I found out that she had checked with the network, and the network was amenable to pre-empt the 9PM to 11PM shows for the Friday or Saturday she wanted (maybe even up til 1AM. She had also checked with my bookers, and found out that the advertisers were fine with changing the programs they advertised on. And for those that didn't want changes, they all had one-week cancellation windows in their contracts. So she bought their contracts from us (the already-booked advertisers actually didn't mind much and gave them up without much fuss). After which, she then booked her own ads and commercials to replace them. I hear that she didn't actually lose any of the station's money, and actually made a bundle

She then lobbied the network to "allow" my station to give up the slot, and, if the rumors were true, she essentially paid the network off. Probably not for a lot - the income from these particular syndicated shows weren't big at all.

So, in essence, KRPQ became a block-timer of the station. Which was fine with me - since she bought out the spots, and since we were also able to charge her a fixed fee for the spot regardless of how her show performed, I believed we came out ahead.

A week later, however, I found out that Melody was able to book the maximum number of commercials she could, most being big advertisers like Rockrgrrl (this time Rockrgrrl was just a regular sponsor, not the show's owner). She was probably able to charge rates similar to the major markets… well, probably not. But I'm sure her show will earn more than enough to cover all of her expenses and then some, and if you included income from the sponsors' commercials on her radio programs leading up to the concert, and the spots she was able to squeeze into some of my own shows, plus placements in the show's posters, I'm sure she'll come out more than ahead.

I regretted my decision. I really should have tried to be a partner. As it was, all I got were my block-timer fees. So when she started shopping around for a video production crew, I decided to offer my station's services gratis. I mean, if it got around that one of the most popular and profitable shows in the history of my station was aired without our involvement, that could affect the station's reputation and marketability. And I might find myself out of a job.

So, for the privilege of the station being billed as a partner and sponsor, we provided all of the show's coverage work for free. We outfitted the skybox-slash-observation deck, as well as her production crew, with all the video equipment they needed, fielded three camera teams and an OB truck, leaving me with no news crews left in the station except for an in-studio skeleton crew for the nightly news.

So, from the outside, it appeared to the world that KRPX was an integral part of the production, which, I hope, was how it would also look to my immediate bosses, too. Hopefully, though, they won't realize that we didn't earn much hard income, and the halo effect from the show's success will help hide this fact.

All of this equipment and people… this is costing me a lot. I'll have to look at the books later and see if we actually lost money on this.

So, here I was, brown-nosing, hoping against hope that Melody Piper would give us a cut, or at least partner with us for her future projects. So I swallowed my pride and made small talk as we watched the show from the Arclight Coliseum's observation deck, or skybox.

And to Melody's credit, she acted very friendly and civil. Whether that's just her playing politics, I don't know. But I'll take it at face value and assume that this sucking up wasn't in vain.

- - - - -

***** (Mike) *****

We watched the show as the the kids cavorted and danced on stage, and we shared a drink. Melody didn't drink much and nursed her one glass of champagne. For me, I was already on my fifth glass.

Feeling more than mellow, I said that the show was going to be a hit, and that I'll make sure to get her a copy of the preliminary ratings numbers tomorrow.

She indulgently smiled at me, and I realized that I was more than a bit drunk. I decided not to finish my current glass, and just watched the show with her.

Around me, my people were doing their jobs well so I didn't have much to do. Melody didn't either, but she did get reports from her people constantly, her smartphone beeping occasionally or a person would come up to her from time to time. So I decided to text my assistant and gave him some makework that would necessitate him sending me back some texts. I then texted my OB crew and asked that I be given a printed copy of transmission statistics every fifteen or twenty minutes. I'm sure they didn't understand why I needed them, but a few minutes later, someone came up to the skybox and gave me a little slip of paper. On it was what to me were just random numbers and figures. I didn't really care but at least I could appear to be busy.

"So, Mrs. Piper," I said, "what are your plans after this?"

Melody shrugged. "Oh, nothing major. My daughter and I need to start building up the station, and start building up a base. That means fine tuning our programs and start accumulating listeners."

"Any more plans for shows like this?"

She shrugged again. "I don't think so. Definitely not this soon. This was a lot of work, and it was quite expensive as well."

"Well, if you think of something, KRPX is here to help."

She smiled at that. "Well, we'll see. I wouldn't want to put you in hot water with your network and your advertisers again."

Inwardly, I winced at that tittle tweak. "I think we can work things out, if ever there would be another opportunity to work together."

She nodded. "Thank you. Tracey and I will talk it out."

"Tracey?"

"My… daughter. I think you met her? She's the one that produces the Nighthawk program?"

"Ahhh. Yes, I did. A charming young lady. She is…?"

"I'm hoping she will eventually be running the station, and perhaps start the PiperCorp communications division."

"Communications division!" I exclaimed. "My goodness! But does PiperCorp even have a communications division?"

She laughed. "Well, that's just a notion at the moment - nothing but an idea. We'll see."

I nodded. Hmmm. And she's the daughter, too. This Tracey is someone I have to get on the good side on. I should talk to my secretary later, and send her something.

"Well..." I continued, "if ever we're able to work together again, I'm sure I can guarantee preferential advertising rates."

"Ahhh…"

"And you will get the signup bonuses, of course…"

"Well, thank you."

"By the way, I'm thinking of placing some commercials in KRPQ."

But I seem to be overdoing the sucking up since she sighed. "Let's talk about all of this later," she said. "If you really want to talk about this, give my assistant a call, okay? She will set a meeting."

Ooops, I guess it was too much.

"Oh, no," I said to her. "Not at all. No rush." I guess I've over-indulged with the champagne, and this miscalculation was the result. I decided to suspend the strategy.

I turned to the main screen which showed the entire stage from the static camera. The details weren't very fine but it gave a good picture of all the action - which was the sole purpose of this particular camera.

After their dance number, the band had followed up with a couple more high-octane songs, and then broke for another commercial break. I've covered enough concerts to know that the commercial break was the last one for the show, and it was meant to give the band a short rest period prior to the final push. And after the commercial would most likely be the show's last one or two songs, where each one from the band will be able to take a sort-of bow and then the MC, or in this case, the three MC's, would close the show.

It was a perfect concert, so far as I can tell, and a follow-up concert would be the best. The timing for the follow-up would be important, of course - not too early after this one, but not too long after that the concert would have lost all of its buzz. If I can be the one to run it, I'd be able to virtually guarantee that the tickets would be sold out on the first day, maybe even get national coverage, too. In other words, it'd be a freaking gold mine.

So I have to be in on that.

I turned back to the TV and noted that the band had slowed things up with a love song.

Mistake, I thought… Although it turned out they knew better. Damn...

- - - - -

***** (Tracey) *****

I was missing a lot of the action as I was hurrying to break down everything in the fake booth. I did have the little TV running so I was at least able to hear the concert.

The first I packed up, of course, was my precious Mac, MILC camera and all of the attached equipment in padded carry cases.

I then packed up all the tape cartridges and equipment in crates. After that, using my X-Acto knife and several rolls of tape, I broke down the fake control board and packed them into big cardboard boxes, which I had reinforced with several strips of tape. They were all going to be thrown away, anyway, but I had to make sure they were taken away and disposed of in some other place so there'd be no evidence.

I ended up with about five steamer trunk-sized cardboard boxes, eight plastic packing crates, two empty shelves and two overnight-bag size camera cases. I taped a number on each box, crate and shelf - seventeen in all. As for the KRPX equipment, I disconnected and packed all of them in the boxes they came in. I checked them against the list they gave, and everything was there.

I took a peek at the TV and the guys were already playing the Meghan Trainor song, which means they were about to break for a commercial soon. Whew! I was just in time.

Though I desperately wanted to watch, I had to clear out. On my phone, I called my mom's assistant, and she said she would be down in minutes. I changed my sweaty top and stuffed it, my bra and my jacket into my slouchy bag. I re-combed my hair and put it into a messy high ponytail, sort of like Danny's usual ponytail after their Saturday practice sessions.

With no makeup, I had a totally different look. I looked really close to my old male image. I felt sad. All the work I put in... Mom promised that she'd allow me my FFS operations on my seventeenth birthday, and that can't come soon enough. After that, on my eighteenth birthday would be my SRS or GRS. After that, I hope I'd be as close to the real me as I can be.

I sniffed back some tears. "Enough," I said to myself. "Time to get a move on." I stepped out of the room, closed the door, made sure that it wasn't locked, and left it to my mom's assistant to get the seventeen items trucked back to the station, and return KRPX's video equipment to them. For me, my goal now was to leave the station and not be seen.

The way out of the coliseum was practically deserted and I had no trouble getting to the parking lot. I found my Toyota FJ Cruiser with no problems and started driving to our condo-apartment. I got there in fifteen minutes flat. That will give me enough time to get ready for the after party at Betsy's.

- - - - -

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

I really was super-tired. At least the others had that twenty-minute break earlier. For me, no breaks.

At least there were only two more songs. We hung around the back stage - none of us wanted to go to our dressing rooms. All of us got bottles of water and other drinks. Following the advice of our directors, I picked a bottle of some sugary juice drink instead - we needed the kick from the sugar rush to get us over our low energy levels. We'll just handle the sugar crash later.

Danielle came over and gave me a hug.

"You guys have been great, Danny," she said, and renewed her hug. I was practically covered with sweat but she didn't care.

She had changed into a nice, silk men's button-down shirt, men's slim-fit jeans and construction boots, and covered it up with the station's silver-and-sky-blue jacket. She looked pretty fresh in her Danny-mode attire. God, I wish I could change out of my sweaty clothes!

"It's the home stretch now," she said to everyone. "Hang in there."

I nodded and took another swig of my drink. "Yup. Just two more songs."

One of the stage people signalled us, and we sighed.

"Here we go." I gave Danielle a kiss on the cheek and followed everyone to the stage.

"And, here we go!" we heard Talia on stage say. They had just finished their final spiel and it was our turn. "Here they are! Dannie and Unlimited Bandwidth!"

I waved as we took our positions on stage while Talia, Harry and Sally stepped off.
In the silence, I played my acoustic with a gentle strumming rhythm along with June's keyboard playing. The audience didn't pick up the song until Mongo started singing Take That's 1996 version.

"I know your eyes in the morning sun," Mongo sang in a surprisingly sweet tenor, "I feel you touch me in the pouring rain…" A spotlight hit Mongo, and the audience, shocked that it was Mongo, erupted in applause.

"And the moment that you wander far from me," he sang, "I wanna feel you in my arms again…"

And then Fallon took over. "And you come to me on a summer breeze," she sang, "keep me warm in your love, then you softly leave. And it's me you need to show! How deep is your love?"

And then, our backup singers - the Glee Club kids - sang in chorus. "How deep is your love, how deep is your love? I really need to learn, 'cause we're living in a world of fools - breakin' us down, when they all should let us be. We belong to you and me…"

This time Dale took over. "I believe in you - you know the door to my very soul."

And then Betsy's turn. As soon as the light hit her, she sang in a sweet soprano voice.

"You're the light in my deepest, darkest hour," Betsy sang. "You're my savior when I fall." The crowd went wild. It was one of the few times they even heard her sing.

And then, I took over.

"And you may not think I care for you," I sang, "when you know down inside that I really do. And it's me you need to show! How deep is your love?"

And then our backup singers. "How deep is your love? How deep is your love? I really need to learn. 'cause we're living in a world of fools - breakin' us down, when they all should let us be… We belong to you and me…"

Betsy then took over in a short interlude, using her violin to sing the words for her. It was sweet and poignant, and I saw some of the girls in the front row sighing. I can just bet she has more fans than ever before now.

"You're my light!" I interjected, and after a few bars, Mongo sang, "you're my light…"

And the backup guys sang, "when I fall…"

And then, after the violin interlude, I took over again. "You may not think I care for you," I sang, "when you know down inside that I really do."

After a pause, the band sang and harmonized with me " And it's me you need to show! How deep is your love?"

And then, all of us, including our backup singers this time, sang in chorus. "How deep is your love, how deep is your love? I really need to learn, 'cause we're living in a world of fools - breakin' us down, when they all should let us be. We belong to you and me…"

Our backup singers then went and did a Motown kind of step, snapping their fingers as they went, "Dudn-doo-doo-doo…" and they repeated this over and over until they faded out the song.

And in the inevitable rain of clapping and yelling, we all went to the front and took a bow.

As the applause settled down, we all went back to our positions and started our finale - our Doobie Brothers number.

On his sticks, Mongo counted us down. "Four, three, two, one!"
June and Mongo went into that signature Doobie Brothers four-fourths beat, with Dale making a few bass counterpoints. The audience picked up on the beat right away, and, on the fourth or fifth repeat, I sang.

"You don't know me but I'm your brother," I sang, trying to sound like a female version of Michael McDonald. "I was raised here in this living hell. You don't know my kind in your world. Fairly soon, the tide will turn…

"You! Telling me the things you're gonna do for me. I ain't blind and I don't like what I think I see!"

Then the background kids and I took turns singing the refrain.

"(Taking it to the streets) taking it to the streets. (Taking it to the streets). No more need for running! (Taking it to the streets)…"

Then it was me again. "Take this message to my brother. You will find him everywhere, wherever people live together, tied in poverty's despair.

"Oh, you, telling me the things you're gonna do for me." Fallon and I included our own guitar rhythm playing, and I continued to sing. "I ain't blind and I don't like what I think I see…"

And then the background kids and me again. "(Taking it to the streets) taking it to the streets. (Taking it to the streets). No more need for running! (Taking it to the streets) Taking it to the streets. (Taking it to the -)"

Then it was Betsy again, making believe her violin was a saxophone. The people went wild and cheered and cheered Betsy on.

And, after her interlude was done, I took over. "Oh, you! Telling me the things you're gonna do for me…. I ain't blind and I don't like what I think I see…"

And then the background kids and me again. "(Taking it to the streets) taking it to the streets. (Taking it to the streets)…"

We repeated it over and over again while June kept spiraling it up and up, adding ad libs and electric organ riffs. It was amazing, and the energy just kept pumping and pumping up and up and up. And after I don't know how long, we snapped our song off.

The audience went absolutely berserk, and we took endless curtain calls. For the people in the coliseum, that was the end of the show, but they didn't want to let us go. So we stayed and waved to our fans.

Fallon, the Glee club kids and I hugged, and with our arms around each other, we waved to our fans. June and Betsy flanking us, with Dale and Mongo, the tallest among us, standing in the back.

We stayed there and posed for pictures, and as we did, several people threw bouquets of flowers. The girls and I picked one up each, and the audience roared again. The Glee Club kids got bouquets, too, I know courtesy of Mrs. P.

"Mongo!" a girl from the audience screamed, and then threw a biiig bouquet. It was probably three dozen roses in that one bouquet. It landed with an almost-thud on the stage floor, and everyone stared at it. Grinning from ear to ear, Mongo made his way to the front and gathered his bouquet. He stood and gave the girl a flying kiss.

As we took our bows, we whisper-debated whether we wanted to sing an encore, but I nixed the idea. We were just too wiped out, I said, and we were liable to mess it up. Best to leave things on a high. Everyone agreed, and we just continued to take our bows.

In the end, everyone, including the boys, ended up with at least one bouquet, except for me, who had about four or five, and Mongo, of course, with his ginormous red, white and yellow bouquet of roses.

A few daring fans threw other things, like little boxes of personal items like jewelry. Some didn't think it through and we ended up dodging the projectiles, otherwise we'd probably need stitches. Some realized what was happening, and decided to throw their little gifts at our feet instead.

As for some of the others, they threw articles of clothing and other personal items. Our director warned us about this, and we were advised not to touch any, especially in this day and age of AIDS and other diseases. They had even indicated that the flowers might also be a danger, but when I impulsively decided to stoop and pick up one of the bouquets, the others followed suit and picked up their own bouquets.

Some in the audience were desperate and actually hurled their shirts, bras, underwear, whatever, directly at us - directly at me, actually. And I had to dodge them. Hopefully, I wasn't hurting anyone's feelings by dodging them. I giggled and made a joke of it, and everyone laughed (I still had my mic). Whew...

And, eventually, we were able to escape into our dressing rooms, with Mongo and I struggling with our bouquets. Later, when we looked at the raw footage, we learned that, after we left, one of the floor directors came up on stage and explained that everyone's gifts were going to get to the band., but they had to be checked over first for security purposes. Explaining this to the audience was something that wasn't really done, but they did this at the insistence of Mrs. P. Which, I think, was appreciated by the fans who threw their gifts on-stage. But that little bit, of course, never got on TV.

On TV, though, the producers finessed the ending a little bit.

On TV, they ran Tracey's and my pre-recorded extro, and filled the right-hand side with selected excerpts from the show. On top of these excerpts were the credits, leaving my image, from head to just below the knees, free of any text. Everyone said I looked super-sexy in my white boat-neck bodysuit and shiny leather leggings. I agreed - hey, what can you do? If you got it, you got it. Lol.

In the background played a muted, musak-style instrumental-only version of Takin' It To The Streets. But, far from sounding hokey, it gave my dry clip just the right musical note.

"There you go, folks," the Nighthawk (me) said in her white bodysuit sans leather jacket, "the formal launch of the new KRPQ radio. And I'd like to thank you for staying with us for the entire evening. Starting tomorrow, you can tune in to us at our new FM channel, and hear your regular favorite programs with Talia, Harry, Sally, Lou and Dennis. As for me, my early Saturday morning program will still be on at its regular Saturday morning slot." (It was strange for me to think of "her" as a different person, but I think I can be forgiven for that).

"I'd like to say thank you to our on-air crew - Talia, Harry, Sally, Lou and Dennis, and of course to my producer Tracey, and our boss, Mrs. Melody Piper. Thanks as well to our Do-Wop guys and gals - Gus, Frank, Rocko Beatriz, Edna, Kalista, Ramona, Valentina, Phylicia, and Eileen, and, of course, the amazing Unlimited Bandwidth - Dannie Fairchild on lead vocals and rhythm, June Bright on keyboards and vocals, Elizabeth 'Betsy' Haley on the violin, Dale Rappaport on bass and vocals, and Julius 'Mongo' Kaufman on drums and backup vocals. Janet O'Hara, the band's lead vocals and rhythm guitar is temporarily not with the band, so taking over for her was Fallon Walsh.

"Thank you, too, to all our sponsors, especially our loyal friends from Rockrgrrl and Cowgirl Jeans, and of course our friends from KRPX TV, and all the wonderful people from our production crew. This is indeed the beginning of something great for KRPQ, the…" and then she, I mean, I, crossed my eyes. "'the home of yesterday's, today's and tomorrow's hits.'" I had inadvertently chuckled at that. "Like I said, we'll think up something nice to replace that later, folks."

I looked straight into the camera.

"But for now, we will all say good night, and hope to see you again soon." I waved to the camera, and they faded out my recording. They replaced it with a new montage of clips from our rehearsals, including all the funny little moments and behind-the-scene bloopers someone had edited together (someone was really on the ball), overlaid with the rolling credits. The muted elevator-style music was muted even more, so that all of our funny little quips, asides and laughter from the blooper clips could be heard clearly.

All-in-all, it was an appropriate ending to a wonderful show.

I wondered if we'd be able to make another one. If this was the life that Dannie the Singer would be leading, I'd sincerely want it to come true. At that moment, I made a big life decision: singing would be my career now. I just needed to find a way to make it happen, and find a way to do it as me and not as Dannie or Robin.

I then realized that there was going to be an after-party, with all the parents and parent-types. God, I was so tired, I wondered if I could last that long.

I sighed. "The pitfalls of fame," I giggled.

to be continued...

 

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