Boys Club: How Far Would You Go? Read online

  Boys Club

  by Ema Bancroft

  Daisy is dying to enter the world of music, but she is frustrated at every step. When the 5Point boys band has open auditions, it could be her big break. Of course, first she has to convince them that she's a dude... And hide her huge crush on the dream lead singer.

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  Copyright © 2017 by Ema Bancroft

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Boys Club

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 1 - Unknown territory

  E. C.

  "I can't believe we have to do this shit,"I muttered, taking a cigarette out of my pocket and putting it back in when Cecil, our manager, took a look at me from across the room.

  He didn't like me smoking in public. It ruined the image we had worked so hard to promote.

  "Relax, Enrique... just go with the flow. "Raul was always one of those who went with the flow. He walked through the row of theater seats, making room for me. "It won't be so bad. "He took out his silver flask, low enough for the seat back to hide it from Cecil, and moved it slightly. " Do you want"?

  I smiled and took the lid off my Coke cup so he could add a little bit of Jack. I put the lid back on, using straw to remove it before taking a sip.

  I nodded to Ethan and Roland as they took their seats across from Raul and turned my eyes to the stage as I sipped my Jack and Coca-Cola. "What's the delay? " I asked Rocket. "I have things to do. I don't want to be tied up all day watching a bunch of Timberlake wannabes.

  Raul shrugged. That was his preferred method of communication. I sighed and sighed and looked where Cecil was arguing with our choreographer, Edwin Silva - or Eddie Pops as he preferred to be called. He liked to pretend he was a gangbanger, even though he was whiter than any of us and had a face like that of the fucking Gerber baby.

  But I couldn't criticize him. We all had nicknames. I went from simple, old Elijah Lynch to E. C. Lynch (Cecil thought Z made it more modern). Raul became Rocket, or Rocky. Ethan was E-Dog (I thought one was stupid). Roland was "Whispers" for his quiet and quiet voice and Richard... well, Richard was just Richard. What didn't matter anymore because I was out of the group?

  Together, we are 5Point, a successful band of kids - though personally, I hate that phrase. I'm 23 fucking years old, for Christ's sake.

  As for the name, that was a calvary in itself - we tried variations on our early initials, but EEJJB didn't spell anything - and E2J2B sounded like a mathematical problem.

  Ricardo suggested using the last few letters of our names, like NSYNC. BCZTN just seemed stupid, and KINKI spelled "pervert" - it wasn't exactly the message he was trying to convey.

  So instead, we became 5Point, because there are five of us? and as a tribute to the Five Point Café in Seattle, where we played our first concerts. I didn't hate him. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it.

  Cecil ran with enthusiasm. "We have more than five hundred lined up outside,"he said, waving his hand over his lumbar black hair. His rings shone in the lights above and his mustache trembled. Cecil Morris looked more like an otter than anything else, but the guy knew his business. He had released six bands in the last ten years - and they all had platinum records and Grammys on their mantos.

  Well, we didn't have a Grammy yet, but Cecil said our time was coming.

  I had another sip of my drink. "Tell me again why we're doing open auditions,"I said grumpyly. "Why couldn't we get someone from the record company? I know they had at least half a dozen guys who could easily replace Ricardo.

  Cecil turned his eyes exasperated. "What do I have to do to make them understand the importance of advertising?" "he exclaimed. "Open auditions are the key... we've got MTV out there... CBS, NBC..." Entertainment Fucking Tonight "! "You can't buy that kind of press! And God knows that after Morales' fiasco we need to do some damage control.

  Ricardo Morales was a problem. Too much salt in Cecil's recipe for the perfect band.

  That's right, I had a prescription. It sounded stupid, but the results speak for themselves.

  Five guys. I'm "The Heartsmith. " I don't think it's anything special, but that's what Cecil did to me. I do all the interviews and say things like "I like walking on the beach" and "I'm still looking for someone special" and the girls eat it, or so I've been told.

  Ethan, with his huge constitution and dimples is Big Brother. It's big, but not threatening. The guy everyone wants to hang out with and play Xbox.

  Rocket is "The Bad Boy. " You know, tattoos and piercings and tearing up hotel rooms. Actually, Raul is probably the nicest guy you ever expected to meet, but he has control over the image. He even cut his hair in a mohawk to irritate Cecil. Raul's hair was loved by many like a mad tusk. There was even a crappy website dedicated to tracking how he was wearing his damn blonde blond curls on his shoulder any day.

  OMG! Rocket's got the hair on a ponytail today.

  thud

  Cecil thought the girls would hate the Mohawks. I was wrong. When it came to the Fangirls, Rocket couldn't do anything wrong.

  Did you hear Rocket throw a couch out the Ritz window? Squee! It's so cute! I want to suck his mohawk!

  Roland "Whispers" Weaver was "The Sensitive"... soft spoken, sweet and innocent with his "I never drank or smoked in my life, not even at school, behind the gym, when everyone else did (although he totally did). Built like a linebacker, he worked religiously, but was able to blush when the girls shouted at him to take his shirt off. He was the guy the mothers wanted their daughters to bring home. Even though I suspected he'd rather have a son bring him home, you know?

  What led to Ricardo Morales,"El Guapo"... baby-faced and able to hit the high notes, rounded off our group perfectly. Until he turned eighteen, his voice changed, and his Big Mac addiction reached him. He gained 40 pounds and his face went crazy. Cecil was angry, but he sent him to fat camp and a dermatologist.

  Then Ricardo was caught in bed with the fourteen-year-old daughter of the dermatologist.

  Yeah. He's not that cute.

  So Richard was out and they left us a "Cute" downstairs. And Cecil had this crazy idea of auditioning to replace him.

  I watched him sit in a couple of rows next to some of the record company representatives. They had a table in front of them so they could take notes, but we were there to decorate. It gave him credibility that the members of the group were in the auditions, but we knew that the choice was not up to us.

  I rested my purple Nike feet with the top of the top on the seat in front of me. I loved my Nikes. One good thing about doing interviews is that you can say things like,"I love my Nike T-shirt,"and the next day you get a huge box of them in all colors.

  I'm not proud of it. But I'm not returning them. That would be fucking crazy.

  I had another drink, shaking the ice in my cup as the first group of boys took to the stage. Cecil glanced around and screamed.r />
  "Numbers three, seven, twenty-eight, forty-two and fourteen, please step forward! "I noticed that all the numbers I was calling were hanging on smaller boys... obviously young... looking innocent. Cecil was already sacrificing them based on their cute factor.

  "If I call you by your name, you've reached the next round and we'll see you after lunch. If I didn't call you by your name, thank you for coming, but you're not what we're looking for today,"he said aloud, but his eyes were focused on his clipboard.

  A chorus of moaning came from the boys who had been cut without even a chance to sing. I couldn't say I blamed them.

  "This is bullshit! " A tall, ungroomed guy with dreadlocks and a pierced eyebrow and lip stood in front of the state. Obvious bad boy. "You guys suck! " he shouted. "We've come all this way and you won't even give us a chance to act? " He bowed and pulled out a well-used Converse sneaker. "5Point is a bunch of fucking impostors anyway! " He threw his shoe at us. It bounced off Cecil's shoulder and landed between Rocket and me on the ground.

  "Fuck you all! " he shouted, as security grabbed him by the arms and limped him off the stage.

  Rocket took out his flask again. "I think we're going to need more of this,"he said with a smile.

  I laughed, opening my cup for another dip. "Keep serving."

  Daisy

  My tits hurt. I mean, they really hurt a lot. Since they're not so big to begin with, one would think that tying them with a Hartmann bandage wouldn't be a problem. I should have known better. I mean, at the end of the day there was nothing better than taking off her bra, right?

  It's like a sigh of relief or something. And a bra was nothing compared to a Hartmann bandage stuck tightly around the chest.

  The wig was another problem. It itched, and my head was so hot that all I could think about was pulling off my wig and plunging my head into a bucket of cold water. I didn't want to wear a wig. He wanted to cut my hair, but Mabel had convinced me.

  She thought this whole thing was crazy.

  "A boy band, Daisy? " that she had run when I told her about my plan. "Are you crazy? " You can't audition for a boy band."

  "Why not? " I asked stubbornly.

  Mabel turned her eyes. "Obviously, honey, you're missing a key requirement. "She shook my hand in my crotch."

  I stared at her. "I think that's sexist,"I replied, folding my arms across my chest. "If I can sing and dance better than anyone else, why can't I be in the group?"

  Mabel laughed without a sense of humor. "They're never gonna let you even audition!"

  I smiled with a grimace. "They will if they don't realize I'm a girl."

  So my plan was plotted. A wig, a pair of fallen jeans, and a couple of yards of Hartmann bandage later, I was in line at the Majestic Theater for open 5Point auditions.

  Crazy? Maybe.

  But I wanted to get into the music business, and until now, I had been frustrated at every step. My voice was very rough. My gaze was too simple. She wasn't sexy enough, not feminine enough or sweet enough. Was my style too boring... or childish... or soft?

  God, it sounded like a Dr. Seuss book.

  So when I saw the audition announcement, I thought,"What the hell? I'll try. " The worst thing that could happen is someone else isn't it?

  Well, the worst thing that could happen would be if my Hartmann bandage broke and my tits collapsed everywhere.

  Actually, they probably wouldn't fail--just a little bit of reason.

  Like I said, they weren't that big.

  The tail was long. The sun was hot. And the boys around me smelled like a mixture of old socks and dead fish. Some of us had been camping for a few days, so that was to be expected, I guess. Mid-morning morning, I headed to the front of the line, just to see a guy with security dreadlocks.

  "Fuck 5Point! " he shouted. "Fucking impostor assholes wouldn't know talent if I hit you in the mouth!"

  I noticed he only had one shoe on.

  Weird.

  I followed my group to the theater and stood with them backstage as we waited for our turn. My number - 212 - crinkled in my shirt and I got up to soften it - surreptitiously massaging my sore breasts. I bowed to tie a double knot to my red and yellow Nikes. The last thing I wanted to do was trip over my shoelaces.

  A guy with a clipboard turned to us distracted. "You'll come out on stage... two lines... no pushing... no talking,"he shook. "It doesn't matter who's where... just make sure your numbers are clearly visible."?

  He could distinguish voices that came from the audience, but not from what was said. A couple of the guys onstage jumped off the stage with excitement, high fives and punches... the rest looked down as they came off the stage on the opposite side?

  "Well... you're on stage,"said the man in the clipboard, waving a hand to indicate that we should go on stage. We lined up and I found myself near the middle in the front row. I squinted at the stage lights, then when my eyes fit, I saw half a dozen people sitting in the seats halfway across the auditorium?

  Oh. Wow. There he was.

  E. C. Lynch.

  I had a drink, my mouth suddenly dried out. I knew the band would be there for auditions, but I wasn't ready to see it in person. I mean, it wasn't like a hive or anything, except E. C. Lynch wasn't a normal person. He was beautiful, talented, absolutely perfect. I had spent hours listening to him sing "I Don't Wanna Lose Ya" and "I Need to Have Ya and Don't Leave Me Baby","I Want Ya" and his velvet voice wrapped me around me, closing in.

  I'm serious. The man was a genius.

  I had no idea how I was going to say a single word and leave a song.

  Fortunately, I have a little bit of a reprieve.

  "Numbers fifty-six, one hundred and thirty-three, thirty-two hundred and twelve, please step forward,"said a sort of slender-looking guy I recognized as the manager of 5Point.

  I went ahead. Was this all right?

  Or bad?

  "If I call you by your name, you've reached the next round and we'll see you after lunch. If I didn't call you by your name, thank you for coming, but today you're not what we're looking for,"he continued in a boring voice.

  I had overcome... the tits intact.

  So far, so good.

  E. C

  I was pretty messed up when the second round of auditions started. Rocket and I had had the last of the Jack's, and then we had a few beers with lunch.

  Okay, maybe not just a few.

  Rocket stuffed his flask before we got back to the auditorium and the two of us sat there laughing in our seats while we waited for the shit to start again. The next thing was the singing. We needed someone who could hit Ricardo's high notes... in that sense, he left some pretty big shoes to fill. Those who went through the next round would learn some of Eddie's choreography, probably some of our latest video. If everything went well, we'd have the fifth 5Point member signed in 24 hours.

  "So what do you think? " Ethan stepped in, leaned on a seat in the front row. "Any good prospects?"

  I shrugged my shoulders. "They all look the same to me. I have to see if any of them can sing."

  Ethan laughed. "Hell, it doesn't even matter anymore. We can auto-tune it motherfucker. I don't want an asshole."

  I shook my head. "Ethan, we need someone who can sing. " Auto-Tune was all right, but I didn't want 5Point to rely on speech correction technology. What were we? The goddamn Backstreet Boys?

  "And dance,"Roland added quietly, sitting next to Rocket. "I'm the one who has to stand beside him... and I don't want some..." He bowed, lowering his voice to a whisper - he always whispered when he cursed. "... bastard stepping on my feet?"

  "Well, whatever,"Ethan said willingly, before I lowered my feet from the backrest to sit in front of me. "We need someone soon, so we can start rehearsals. We only have one month before the tour starts, and whoever is chosen needs to catch up.

  No one responded to that, because there really was no need.

  We all knew that time was running out. Which meant that no matter who Cecil and
the others chose, we'd have to make it work.

  Even if he was an asshole.

  "All right, let's get started,"cried Cecil. "Number 28?"

  A tall, blonde guy with baggy jeans and a red buttoned-up shirt came up on stage.

  "I,"he said in the microphone.

  Seriously?

  Cecil cleared his throat. "What's your name, boy?"

  The boy bent down and shook his hands. "Hey, it's Corey-Dee."

  Cecil drowned himself with a laugh. "Like the fast food restaurant?"

  "Whatever. " The boy looked away as if bored with the conversation.

  "Okay, Corey,"Cecil continued. "What are you going to sing for us today?"

  He grabbed the microphone and spoke directly. "Baby, please."

  The music started and the boy closed his eyes.

  You're standing there all pretty in pink

  Blinking those baby blues

  I don't know what I'm supposed to think

  But what have I got to lose?

  You got me on my knees.

  Don't be mocking...

  Baby, please, baby

  The kid was good... most of them were. And each of them sang Baby, please. It wasn't a big surprise, as it was one of our greatest hits and one of the few songs that Ricardo sang in the lead. But Jesus, after the fourteenth audition, I was getting a little sick of it.

  "Next! " Cecil shouted.

  I yawned. My buzzing was beginning to fade, so I muttered to Rocket to hit me on his flask. I took a drink and went back to the stage to find a short guy standing on the microphone. He wore loose clothes, but Nikes was handsome, red with a yellow swoosh. I didn't have a couple of those and I made a mental note to find them.

  "Name? Cecil asked.

  "Ummm... Tim... Tim Caldwell,"said the boy. He was watching well, I guess. A little skinny and his hair was a little weird, but the girls will like it. He seemed nervous and twisted on stage.

  "Okay, Tim, what are you going to sing for us? " Cecil asked, choking a yawn.

  "Unknown territory.

  I sat a little bit. Not only because someone finally chose a song other than Baby, please, but because Unexplored Territory was a fucking difficult song to sing.