I still have to pee. Oh God, he's got his hand on my back. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod! Soooooo gorgeous, especially in person. And that cologne he's wearing is mmmmm-mmmmm-yummy! It smells like cinnamon rolls baked in Heaven's oven. Cinnamon rolls are sooooo good. I haven't had a carb in like five weeks except for salad! God, I hate dieting! I am so hungry. I need to pee...wait, now you’re staring at me? Seriously, wear a different sweater for once.

'We're back LIVE here,' a sharp-dressed Ryan Seacrest reads from the teleprompter, 'with your results to find out who goes home and who is one step closer to becoming your American Idol!'

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod this is really happening, pee. Pee. I have to pee so bad.

'Let's start with the lovely Miss Bethany!'

Yeah, clap for me! My adoring fans, just listen to that. They voted. They all voted. This place is nothing without me. I can't lose!

'Last night, for our Billy Joel theme, you sang 'Uptown Girl!'' Ryan turned to her and smiled, then retrieved his blue cue cards from his jacket pocket. 'Randy said, 'Pretty good, but not your best performance by far.''

What has he ever done that anyone cares about, anyway?

'Paula said, 'you were so cute, but the vocal was pitchy at parts.''

I'd like to pitch you into a rehab facility, you drunk.

Seacrest looks up, a hint of flirtation in his voice. 'And Simon said to 'consider it a miracle' if you make it past tonight.'

Yeah, and it'll be a miracle if Kelly Clarkson makes another hit record for your label, you asshole! Oh, damn. Smile, you're on television, Bethany.

'And now we turn our attention towards...' Blahblahblahblahblahblahblah, shut up, and just look hot, Ryan. You'd be a catch if you'd like...just never speak, ever again. And maybe if you were a few inches taller. And not secretly in love with your co-worker.

'Randy said you were 'on key,' but the song didn't fit your style.'

What style? The dorky, hopeless style? Perfect for that boring, melodramatic Billy Joel crap.

'Paula said, 'You're as cute as a button, and your voice is original. I love you.''

'I love her, too,' the young man in reference quipped back, smiling. Light laughter and several 'OOOOOOOOOHs' ensued from the audience as Ryan nodded, unable to ad-lib due to years and years of sniffing glue.

'I love her, too.' A-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh. Shut up, you're going home tonight.

'And Simon said, he 'didn't enjoy the performance at all,' and said it sounded 'like a Carnival cruise ship show'.'

Shit. I'm going home tonight.

'Well, America voted, and I am sorry to say that one of you is going home tonight,' Seacrest quipped, faint hints of sympathy in his voice.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodhmygodohmygodohmygodhmygodohmygodohmygod!

'Bethany...you are…'

I lost.
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“Hey there, Thad!” She was a hot little number with fireworks in her hair, clutching a Chemistry text close to her chest. At that very moment, the second-semester freshman considered that book the luckiest book on the planet, as it didn’t do much in the way of hiding the pair of milk maidens underneath her white Tri-Delt Date Night T-shirt. Flattening the flyer onto the metal light pole with one last press of his hand, he turned and gave his full attention to the petite stick of dynamite that’d addressed him.

“What’s up?” That responded affectionately to the girl he’d definitely seen around campus but swore he’d never met before. “Coming out to the show tonight?”

“I’m gonna try!” she responded, a smile shining bright in the otherwise overcast afternoon. Thad returned it with a sheepish grin of his own, handing her a copy from the stack of sheets draped over his arm. “Eight-thirty at Capital City. Hope to see you there!” he beamed. She blinked as she took it out of his hand and examined the grid-plate designs strewn wildly amidst spotlight images and Michael Jordan dunking on Larry Bird in the far-left corner.

“Can’t wait!” The girl waved goodbye, but not before leaving him a long and blatantly flirtatious glance. A noticeable blush came over his off-white complexion as he ran his fingers through his messy jet-black hair. Starting his walk towards the quad, he let his brain process the amazing 180 degree turn since his first semester at the middle Georgia college…not before double-taking to get a perverse glance at the strawberry blonde’s ass in those pink running shorts, however. He laughed to himself as he once again realized that he didn’t even know the girl’s name, and although she had a big science midterm in the morning – later that night she’d be dolled up with about forty or fifty fellow starfuckers hanging on every word of his band’s rendition of Tears For Fears’ “Head Over Heels.” The best part? They weren’t even all that good, save for him. Later that night, he’d reintroduce himself to the junior class vice-president and co-chair of the Delta Delta Delta Activities Committee and finally find out her name: Karin. About eight weeks after tonight, they’d celebrate their one-month anniversary as a couple. About three months after that, her left hand would leave a nasty red mark on his corresponding cheek after she discovered that he and her suitemate made love the night before.

It’d only be a year or so before he could travel to another city and people wouldn’t recognize him, but he was certainly enjoying the quasi-celebrity status while he still could. Why wouldn’t he? Finally, he stood out a little from the rest of the bunch. People were drawn to him because he was both friendly and talented, and it certainly didn’t hurt that he was recently on television.

Thad approached the brick courtyard outside the student center and reached into his jean pocket to pull out a roll of tape. Tearing a small piece off and sticking it on top of another flyer in preparation to whore out his band’s gig further, he felt the breeze come in from the northwest, blowing his hair into his eyes. Recognizing his English professor, a balding snow-haired man in brown slacks and a tucked-in Oxford, Thad waved a friendly greeting as he stuck the poster on the community event board. Dr. Johnson returned his former student’s gesture with a disinterested nod as he turned the corner to walk inside the cafeteria located within the brick building.

Guess everyone can’t be a fan.

Shrugging it off, Thad started toward the Ellard Hall dormitory about six blocks east – once again feeling the insurgence of the weeks prior to this day flow as a thought stream in his mind to entertain him on his stroll. Cheer still colored his cheeks, matching perfectly with the peach thrift store T-shirt advertising Marv’s Truck Rental.
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“Before Thad sings for us one last time, let’s take a look at his incredible journey through American Idol,” Seacrest recited. The video package then rolled on the projector, temporarily replacing the traditional logo that was usually displayed on the screen. A nervous, platinum-haired eighteen-year-old dressed in dark denim Levis and a white airbrushed Spuds Mackenzie T-shirt walked into the audition room in the Amelia Island Resort near Savannah. It was the same sight he’d seen in his years of watching the show: potted plants providing the minimal decoration on the outside of the white pallet that served as the stage in front of the judges.

“Hey there,” Paula greeted, smiling at the less-pale Billy Idol look alike.

“What up, dog?” Randy Jackson was not a man of much surprise, and this eased Thad up a little bit. Just a little, however, as the cameras he’d been exposed to all day were still a little heavy setting on his mind.

“So you are actually related to the John Denver?” Simon quipped, as a smirk on his face revealed that his curiosity was piqued.

“Yes sir, he was a great uncle,” Thad politely responded, making sure to remain courteous to the toughest judge since Judith Sheindlin.

“You look absolutely nothing like him.”

The clip skipped ahead, highlighting his audition with a song where the artist’s vocal style was most similar to his own. “I can call you Betty,” he belted, a smile on his face the entire time, “and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al!”

Of course, Simon’s comment was the only one that really mattered according to the editing crew. “You’re different, and I think people are gonna either love you or hate you,” he stated. A wide shot to the entire panel, with Ms. Abdul making the announcement: “You got three yes’s!”

There was then a scene cut to Thad seated on a large rock overlooking a deep sandstone canyon, which was fairly standard when the show would conduct these sorts of interviews. “I think the thing I’ve enjoyed most about my Idol experience is all the great people I’ve met in Hollywood who tell me they’re pulling for me,” he humbly states. “What’s disappointing is that I haven’t had any marriage proposals yet.”

Pushing forward with the video package, we now see Thad at work with a quite slender yet very Italian-looking vocal coach. While he sits at a piano and belting out the first verse to Hall and Oates’ “Kiss On My List,” the vocal coach looks down at his performance and smiles. A talking box shot replaces this one, replaying some of the trainer’s comments on his abilities. “Thad is going to be a success because he can sing something exactly how you want it to be heard. He adapts to different organizations and he just loves to please.”

“If America doesn’t want me around anymore,” Thad laughs, “I will cry my eyes out on national television. I’ll then lock myself in Simon’s dressing room and refuse to come out. Nah, I’ll probably go home and pray my professors haven’t changed their minds about letting me continue with the semester’s classes.”

Thad then remembered Ryan’s final introduction before he took the floor one last time for the live studio audience. He set out to put feelings of regret in the minds of those viewers who didn’t vote for him, and he had certainly shown out with the song that the judges completely marked out for during week six. He ‘shook his groove thang’ in the aisles, on top of the judges’ table, with that Bethany chick who’d been spared elimination…pretty much everywhere but the actual stage. The only thing he’d really miss was the free food and killer pad they’d put them in. And, of course, he’d miss Paula.

Tonight, Alf and The Huxtables would pull about 750 bucks at the door, which was certainly a far cry from what this kid born of musical blood could have been making had America decided to keep him on Simon Cowell’s gravy train. But, it afforded him groceries and booze and a little extra towards that trip to Cancun he and his friends planned to take once finals were over. Frankly, he wouldn’t have traded what he had right here for anything else in the world.

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All I can remember ever since I was big enough is that I loved to run! And I especially loved to play chase! There was nothing funner in the whole world, and nobody could catch me! Well, sometimes I would get caught. I’d get tired, and I’d hang out my tongue like this - :-P Hee hee hee! So, the nice lady let me out of the little cage thingy, and we went to the backyard one day. I’d never been to this backyard before, though. It was kind of weird – there was this little shed without a door, and I saw a lot of garbage bags in it. I didn’t go to ‘em, though – once, my lady mommy spanked me for playing in the trash, so I knew better. I’m a fast learner, because I don’t like spankings!

As soon as the nice lady set me down, I was ready to play! “Chase me,” I said! “Chase me around!” And boy, did she! Even that stinky guy with the fur on his face and the big net chased me. I zoomed zoomed ZOOMED through the leaves and they crinkled at my feet! The lady fell in a pile of the leaves on accident, though. And the stinky man tripped over a root and fell on his big stomach. He was silly! Not me, though! I dodged ALL the trees. I sped around ALL the corners! I was the fastest in the entire universe!

But then I got tired, just like always. I couldn’t wait to get back inside, curl up on the blanket, and take a nap! “I’m ready to go in,” I said to the nice lady and the man with the net! “Take me in!”

It was a comfy enough blanket, I guess. But there was a big ol’ light above me, as big as the sun almost, and it shined down real real REAL bright! I wasn’t in the cage, but the nice lady had taken me indoors to the other nice lady I’d played with a couple of times. She petted my head and pushed down on my back a little so I’d lay on my stomach. I was pretty tuckered out so I didn’t try to nibble her fingers like usual. I yawned a great big yawn and then…

“Ouch!”

Owwwwie! That hurt, lady! She drew back her hand, and there was some clear thingy covering it, and I saw what stung me! I saw a bee before when I was playing around some old oak tree this one time, but that thing sure didn’t look like no bee I’d ever seen! The stinger was real real REAL big, and I tried to get up and run from it, but that lady kept holding me down with her hand.

“Let me up, lady!” I squirmed around a lot, but it was no use. “Let me up,” I yelled! “NO, it’s gonna sting me! NO! NO! Leave me alone!”

The cars are funny lookin’ here, but boy are they fast! You can’t even catch ‘em, even with these thingies they give you when you first get here! But they’re fun! I always wanted to know what it was like to be a birdie, just flyin’ around from tree to tree! There aren’t any trees here, though, but Mom says I should be happy anyway ‘cause everything’s a pillow and my belly doesn’t hurt from no food no more. And I guess she’s right. Sometimes I miss my old home, though. I miss lookin’ at the sky and seeing all those aliens! I miss chasin’ squirrels around the yard! I miss mud puddles and splashing around in ‘em!

But, I like it here. Someone always wants to play, ALWAYS! And I never need to take a nap, so I play all day long.

And I’ll never have to take a nap, because there’s no bees up here to sting me.