Eighteen-year-old Micha West’s life suddenly takes a turn for the best when she wins a high school talent show. With only a few weeks left before she’s on her own, with no job and no place to stay because she’ll be too old for foster care, Micha signs a recording contract with Rahn Hyun Gi, a Korean talent manager. The only downfall? She has to pack up her life and move to Seoul, Korea. What’s an American-raised Korean to do in such a strange place?
The last thing Ran-Hanuel Kim, lead singer of Revolution, and his band mates need or want in their group is another lead singer, especially one as young or inexperienced as Micha West. But their manager, Hyun-Gi, promised them a female singer to rival the one leading their biggest competitor’s group. What she brings them instead is an American dude sporting baggy pants, sunglasses, a baseball hat, and boots. When the band members find out Micha is actually a girl, hiding a very nice body underneath those baggy clothes, you would think they’d be satisfied. But Micha is a force to be reckoned with, despite her strange packaging, and things go from bad to worse.
EXCERPT:
Chapter One
“This better be worth it,” Hyun-Gi Rahn, manager of Elegance Entertainment, said to the talent scout, Seung Narm, as she followed him up the stairs to seats in a high school auditorium in Los Angeles. After twenty-five hours on a plane, she was flying high on one cup of black coffee and had a severe case of jet lag.
“It will be,” Seung assured her as he lumbered his portly body up the stairs behind her. “You have to see this kid to believe.”
Seung was one of the best talent scouts in Korea and hadn’t steered her wrong yet. If he thought the kid had potential, the kid had potential. The auditorium continued to fill to capacity. Seung had called Hyun-Gi last week and told her about the competition he’d just happened to stumble across while in town scouting for potential talent. Apparently, the school held a talent show every weekend as an afterschool activity for the current and past students, and the town just loved it. The kid they were there to see had won first place last week and was possibly the reason family members, teachers, and students packed the place to the rafters.
A few minutes after they sat down, the lights lowered and the principal of the high school appeared and made a few announcements. The first act took the stage. It consisted of six scantily clad high school girls dancing to a non-descript and very loud rap song. Hyun-Gi sighed. How much of this would she have to endure before Micha West performed? Two hours later, she was still contemplating the question and growing considerably tired. After a brief intermission, a crowd of people moved to the front of the auditorium, near the stage.
Seung patted her hand to get her attention. “This is it.” He straightened the lapels of his dark brown suit jacket and then dusted the thighs of the matching trousers as if he was about to be presented to the President of the United States or someone equally important. The principal appeared again, asking the students to return to their seats and to be courteous and not block the people seated in the front rows. A series of grumbling and groans met his pleas, but the students complied and moved back to their seats. So far, Hyun-Gi hadn’t seen anything fantastic or different enough to make her take notice.
She took out her video camera and trained the lens on the stage. The curtains opened, and a student took center stage and sat down at a piano. From a distance, it appeared to be a young man clad in a dark sports jersey and jeans. His long, black hair came down to his chin. He continued to look forward, ignoring the calling of his name and shouts of encouragement from the audience. Moments later, he raised one hand, adjusted the microphone, and began playing and singing an updated version of Elton John’s “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me.”
Female students ignored the principal’s warning and moved back to the edge of the stage, as Micha’s husky voice entranced and captivated them.
Hyun-Gi listened, training her ears to pick up the least little mistake in the voice—a tremor or even a missed piano chord—almost disappointed when it didn’t occur. She also listened for the one thing that would differentiate Micha West from any other singer she’d heard over the ten years she’d been in business. There were a lot of singers out there, but only a few could pack a stadium and sell millions of records. She sought the one little thing that had made Seung place an urgent call, wake her up at an ungodly hour, and announce he had found their next big idol. A few minutes later, her prayers were answered as Micha West rocked the house with Michael Jackson’s “This Is It.” The students went wild, clapping and singing along with him.
“Huh? What did I tell you?” Seung said, nudging her elbow with his. “Is this kid something special or what?”
Before she could answer, people began storming the stage. The music ended as Micha hopped from the piano bench, obviously in fear for his safety as young women tried to grab him and tear at his clothes.
Hyun-Gi chuckled from behind the camera. Being mobbed during a performance was certainly a sign Micha West had star potential. But she had sent Seung to America to find a female singer to add to her already popular Korean pop group, Revolution.
Teachers, faculty, and security guards ran down the aisle and hopped on the stage to get control of the scene. Fifteen minutes later, they were still pulling tearful female students off the stage. They sent the last of the hormone-raging girls back to their seats, and the principal arrived again to announce the winner of the talent show. Micha West’s name was barely out of his mouth before the girls started shouting again. It didn’t surprise Hyun-Gi; the young man had stolen the show.
Hyun-Gi turned off her camera, put it back in its case, and took the opportunity to get a better look at Micha as he stood in front of the principal to accept his trophy. He was tall, maybe five-eight or five-nine, and weighed about one-hundred and forty pounds . . . a little over the average height of a typical idol, but shorter than the members of Revolution who were at least six feet tall. His face was still hard to see from a distance, but a trained stylist and makeup artist could fix any imperfections.
“Is he available?” she asked Seung as the people began to leave the auditorium.
“I think so. From what I could gather, he’s just graduated from this school.”
Hyun-Gi rose and Seung followed. “That does not mean he’s available. That only means we don’t have to deal with finding a school for him to attend, or securing a tutor so he can complete his education. He could have plans to attend college, and there’s always the family issue.”
“He’s an orphan, raised in foster care, and he’ll be on his own in two weeks.” He smiled. “I do my homework occasionally.”
Hyun-Gi headed toward the stage instead of the exit.
“Where are you going?” Seung asked as he hurried to catch up with her.
“To meet this impressive young man. We can’t wait another minute. Someone might swoop in on him before we do.” She sidestepped a couple of girls still watching Micha, and walked up the stairs just as the young man prepared to leave. Hyun-Gi bowed. “Excuse me. My name is Hyun-Gi Rahn, and this is Seung Narm.”
A wave of jet black hair still trapped the young man’s face. He swept the bangs aside, revealing a very broad forehead, alert green eyes, and clear, porcelain skin. The face was more feminine than masculine, with a thin nose and full, pink lips.
Micha bowed back, straightened up, and stared at her.
“Am I supposed to know you?” he asked, seemingly unimpressed by them. The voice was very deep . . . no, sultry.
Hyun-Gi smiled. “No, I guess not. I manage an entertainment agency, and Mr. Narm is a talent scout. He invited me here to hear you perform.”
Both of them pulled out business cards and handed them to Micha. He took them, squinted to read under the dull auditorium lighting, and then lowered his eyes.
“Can we go somewhere and talk?” Hyun-Gi asked.
“I don’t know. I really should be getting home. It’s very late.”
“I won’t take up much of your time, and I’ll bring you home afterward if you don’t have a ride.”
“What do you want to talk to me about?” Micha asked.
“Your future.” Seung answered for her. “How would you like to be a star?”
Micha looked down at the cards again. “I don’t know. What would I have to do, and how much is this going to cost me?”
Seung laughed.
“Nothing. All you have to do is sing. We’ll do the rest.” He led Micha down the steps.
Hyun-Gi followed, sensing the young man might feel more comfortable talking to another man. Things like that didn’t bother her anymore, now that she had made a name for herself. Elegance Entertainment was one of the biggest agencies in Korea. Her list of clients spoke for itself.
“There’s this little café just down the street,” Seung continued to say as they stood outside the auditorium in the parking lot. “We can discuss this over a cup of tea.”
“I hate tea,” Micha replied as they led him over to a white limousine. The driver stepped out, bowed, and opened the door. Micha didn’t appear one bit impressed.
“You don’t like tea?” Seung joked. “Are you sure you’re Korean?”
“Half,” Micha answered. “My father was an American doctor, but that has nothing to do with tea and my hatred of it.”
He didn’t elaborate any more on the subject.
Hyun-Gi climbed into the car, and Micha followed, with Seung bringing up the rear. The driver closed the door and got back behind the wheel.
“Where to, Madam?” the driver asked Hyun-Gi.
“To a café on the next block,” Seung answered for her again. “It’s on the right hand side of the street.”
The driver started the car, left the school parking lot, and traveled exactly one block before parking again. He got out of the front seat again and opened the door closest to the sidewalk. Seung stepped out first. He continued to talk with Micha, filling him in on little tidbits about what it would mean for Elegance Entertainment to represent him.
Once they entered the café, a waitress escorted them over to a booth and handed them three menus.
“I guess we might as well have a little snack while we talk,” Hyun-Gi suggested. “What would you like?”
Micha peered down at the menu.
“French fries and a Pepsi,” he told the young waitress, who kept trying to steal glances at him when she thought no one watched.
Hyun-Gi grimaced. Junk food did horrible things to the skin and the hips. She ordered a cup of orange pekoe tea, while Seung opted for a piece of homemade apple pie to accompany his Earl Grey tea. The waitress left to get their order, giving Hyun-Gi time to look around as they waited. The place was clean and not overly crowded, compared to the cafes back home. There were about ten other patrons and no one else. The waitress returned with their snacks, placed the food before them, and left.
“You’re going to love Elegance,” Seung said, as if the teen had agreed to let Hyun-Gi represent him and had already signed a contract. “What do you think?”
“It all sounds a little hard to believe,” Micha replied. “No one would do all this for me just because I can sing.”
“We would,” Hyun-Gi replied as she sipped her hot tea. “All you have to do is agree to let me represent you. Of course, you’ll have to leave Los Angeles for me to do this.”
Micha stopped munching on fries and looked across the table at her. “Leave Los Angeles? For where?”
“Why, Korea, of course.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Hyun-Gi shook her head. “I’m afraid not. My agency is located in Seoul, Korea. You’re part Korean. Don’t you have any interest in where your ancestors originated?”
“Not really,” Micha said, going back to his fries.
“Let me handle this,” Seung said. “Seoul is a very beautiful place with lots of people eager to buy music. You’ll have fans from all over Asia . . . and talk about girls.” He slapped his jaw. “You’ll be beating them off you just like you did this evening.”
“Why would I care about a bunch of stupid girls?” Micha asked.
Seung nearly choked on his tea.
“What do you mean? Don’t you like girls?” He put a piece of pie into his mouth.
“Not really.” Micha took a sip of Pepsi.
Hyun-Gi raised an eyebrow. Hmm, a gay idol. She could work that angle to death. Of course, that would drag in the fanboys who were into that sort of thing, and the fans who loved yaoi.
“What kind of red-blooded male doesn’t care about girls?” Seung asked as he cut into another piece of pie and stuffed it in his mouth.
“How would I know?” Micha answered. “I’m a girl.”
Seung did choke this time. Hyun-Gi rose and slapped him soundly across the back. The piece of pie flew out of his windpipe and landed on the table.
“You’re a what?” he asked.
“A female,” Micha answered smugly. “And I have the tits to prove it.”
A gender-bender, Hyun-Gi thought as she sat back down and tried to hide her smile. This is positively fantastic. How in the hell did Seung not know this? That was why Micha’s face was so pretty and delicate looking. She could work the androgynous thing to the hilt. Is she or isn’t she, the headlines would read. And they did need a female singer for Revolution. She smirked. Ran-Hanuel Kim, the group’s lead singer, would just die. Hyun-Gi signaled for the waitress, who promptly came over.
“I think I will have that piece of apple pie.” To hell with her complexion and her thighs when the answer to a secure financial future sat across from her. This kid was going to make her mad, stinking rich.
* * * * *
Korea, Micha thought as she lay in bed later that night after Seung Narm and Hyun-Gi Rahn finished discussing her future with her current foster parents. True, she didn’t need their permission since she was eighteen, but she did value their opinion. Her stint with this group of foster parents would be ending in a couple of weeks, and she’d be on her own.
Micha flipped over on her side and stared up at the sky through the open curtains at the window. The twinkling stars looked very far away. Los Angeles had been her only home, and the thought of leaving and following complete strangers scared the hell out of her but also intrigued her.
What would she do in Korea? She sighed. It wasn’t like she had any other plans for her future except for getting a job. Tomorrow, her foster mother planned to take her to get a passport, and in less than a week, she would be on her way to Seoul. That didn’t leave much time to pack or say goodbye to her friends.
Micha rolled over on her back, still unable to go to sleep. Thoughts scattered through her head, coupled with fear and uncertainty. Had she done the right thing by signing the contract? Granted, she’d read it over a couple times first to make sure they didn’t tie her into a lifetime commitment. Five years. That’s all she had to do for them to make her a star. Could she handle it? Probably not, but she didn’t have much choice since she had already signed on the dotted line.
Micha glanced over to a couple of navy blue binders on her desk. Maybe they’d let her record some of the songs she had written. How would she be able to transport all of them? Maybe she’d have them shipped with the rest of her things. Micha mentally added it to her list of things to do.
Her foster mother also planned to take her shopping for some new clothes, which would no doubt include dresses. Micha grimaced. She didn’t do dresses because she didn’t feel comfortable in them, but her foster mother insisted she purchase at least a few of them. She also insisted Micha wear pantyhose under them, because that was what proper ladies did. Micha grimaced again. That would also mean she would have to wear heels. The last pair of high heels she received were still tucked away in their original box in her closet. Tennis shoes and boots were more her thing and more convenient to wear when walking or playing sports.
“But you have such a pretty face,” she remembered her foster mother telling her. “All you need to do is use some makeup, and you’ll have boys begging to date you.”
So not me. There’d be no way her male friends would invite her to play basketball with them if she showed up in a dress and makeup. They’d laugh her off the court.
The only thing she would agree to was new underwear. The lacy, sexy kind. Call it a quirk, but she’d always had a thing for lingerie. Sexy underwear was the only thing that tied her to her femininity, and silk felt so wonderful against her skin. Micha yawned as sleepiness finally arrived. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and she awaited it with dread and anticipation.
