Big Time Read Online Free

louder than I expect. I try not to meet the eyes of any of the other people in the waiting area.
    Another production assistant comes over and smiles at me. He puts his hand on my back and guides me through a doorway and into an empty hallway. My mom hurries along beside me.
    â€œI don’t know if they were mean to you or not,” the PA says. “If they were, try not to take it personally. They just do it for TV .”
    â€œWell, that’s reassuring,” snaps Mom.
    He smiles sympathetically and heads back to the waiting area.
    Mom moves around to face me.
    â€œYou okay?”
    I nod, but I can feel the tears starting to come.
    â€œOh, sweetie,” she says again. “What can I do?”
    â€œI need to find a bathroom,” I blubber. “I’ll be okay, I just need to find a bathroom.”
    We walk down the hallway until we find a ladies’ room. “You want me to come in?” she asks.
    I shake my head. “Just give me a few minutes.”
    Thankfully, it’s empty. I lean into the sink and cry a little bit, just for a couple of minutes. I manage to compose myself, then wash my face. It feels good. I stare into the mirror. My eyes are a bit pink, but I look okay.
    There’s nothing I can do about it now. As I turn to leave, the door to the washroom opens and Maria Tillerman pushes through. She stops when she sees me.
    â€œOh,” she says.
    â€œI was just leaving,” I say and start to move past her.
    â€œHang on, honey,” she says. I stop and look at her, trying my best to smile.
    â€œWhat’s your name again?” she asks. “I know it was just a few minutes ago, but I see so many people.”
    â€œGerri Jones,” I tell her.
    â€œThat’s right. Listen, Gerri,” she says, “this is the way the show works. You shouldn’t take it to heart. I can guarantee you they won’t use your clips on TV —you were too good for that.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make any sense,” I tell her.
    â€œLook at it this way. There are people who are born to get onstage and belt out songs, and they have loads of charisma and stage presence. Those are the people we take for the show. Then there are the people who are terrible, who we let through the process because they come across as funny, like that cowgirl who came in before you. It might not be the nicest thing in the world, but we need people who’ll make good TV .
    â€œThen there are the people with good voices who haven’t quite figured out the stage presence thing. People like you. The good news is that you can learn the stage-presence stuff, but you can never teach someone how to have a good voice. You have a really good voice. I hope you remember that. Music should be fun, not stressful. I hope you keep singing, because you’ve got an instrument, girl. It would be a shame for you to waste it.”
    â€œThanks,” I say.
    â€œI mean it. Now I had better do my business and get out of here before they send in the troops after me.”
    She goes into a stall and locks the door.
    The last thing I hear as I leave is a muffled “Good luck, Gerri Jones.”

Chapter Four
    On the drive home, Mom rants and raves about the whole Big Time process.
    â€œWhat is wrong with those people?” she says as we peel out of the parking lot. “I mean, look at you, you’re adorable! You’ve got the voice of a honky-tonk angel! They’re crazy!”
    â€œWhat’s a honky-tonk angel?” I ask.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” she says. “I’m trying to tell you that the system is obviously rigged, Gerri. The fix is in. The jig is up.”
    â€œYou make it sound like a big conspiracy,” I say. “They just didn’t like me.”
    â€œDon’t ignore the facts,” she says. “If it looks like a duck and talks like a duck, you’re probably dealing with a duck. Let’s pick up some pizza for supper.