Maggie Malone and the Mostly Magical Boots (9 page)

I don't mean to sound full of myself or anything, but the next song comes and I am
on
fire
on the stage. I don't miss a single beat, and when the backup dancers join me, I fall right in line. I am a real-life, full-fledged, bona fide rock star. Mostly Magical Boots? Try
Totally
Magical Boots. I could do this all day, every day.

Eventually I wrap up the show with Becca's first-ever hit song, “Breaking Hearts,” and when I do, I swear to you, the entire audience is a sea of b's.
We
heart
you, Becca Starr! We heart you with all 20,000 of our hearts!
It's the craziest thing I have ever seen in my life.

After my final bow, I step forward to the edge of the stage. I'm past the blinding row of lights so I can see that practically every person in the whole crowd—mostly girls around my age and younger—is reaching for me and screaming. I try to touch as many of those hands as I can, and when I do, each one of those girls screams even louder and looks like she's going to lose her mind or faint right there on the spot. I hope somebody on my team knows CPR.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rory giving me the
wrap
it
up
signal. He wants me to leave the stage? But
why?
This is the best part—like saving the frosted part of your cupcake for last! I decide to ignore him and head over to the left side stage and give them a little Becca love. The whole left side of the arena goes wild as I pace back and forth, high-fiving every hand in my path. It wouldn't be right to leave the right side hanging, would it? I skip across the stage and start blowing kisses that way.

I look up and see Justin smiling down at me, and I blow him a big kiss. Then I look over and think I can actually see steam coming out of Rory's ears. Ugggh! Okay, I guess it's got to end sometime.

“Good night, everybody! I LOVE YOU, NEW YORK!” I shout (I've always wanted to say that!) and run off the stage, right over to Vi.

“Great show, Becca!” she says, giving me a huge hug. “But we're in Houston.”

“Whoops! Sorry!” I say. “It just sort of slipped out.”

“No biggie,” Vi says. “I'll deal with that tomorrow. You ready to get comfy?”

I am
so
ready to get comfy. I can practically feel those furry slippers hugging my feet already.

“Starr,” I hear a voice behind me yell, just as Vi and I link arms and start to make our way toward the backstage exit.

I turn around and see Rory's mean old face. He's giving me the iciest stare I've ever seen.

“Yeah?” I call back, planting my hands on my hips.

“Pull that little routine again and you can find another sound engineer,” he says. He bends back over on the floor and starts ripping tape off some of the wires behind stage. He's clearly done with me, but I am
so
not done with him. I walk over and stand directly over him.

“Rory, can I talk to you for a second?” I ask his back.

“What do you need
now
?” he barks at me without even turning around.

“It's just, well, I just,” I stutter. Man, this is not easy. I take a breath. “I really don't like the way you talk to me.”

Rory stops what he's doing and stands up really slowly. He turns to face me, glaring.

“Oh, really?” he hisses sarcastically. “And what are you going to do about it, little miss superstar?”

“I'm going to fire you,” I say before I can stop myself. Holy fish sticks, I cannot believe I just said that. Me! Maggie Malone. I just
fired
Becca Starr's big-time sound guy.

“You can't fire me, you little brat,” Rory spits.

“Actually, yes, she can,” says Vi, who has snuck up behind us. “Becca's the boss.” She puts her arm around me.

“You'll both be sorry,” he shouts, dropping all of his gear and storming off the stage.

“I doubt it,” I say to Vi with a little giggle.

“Well, he sure had that coming,” she says. “And good for you, Becca. That was very brave. You've wanted to fire him forever. I was wondering if you'd ever get up the nerve to actually do it. So,
now
are you ready to get comfy?”

I nod. I can't wait to chill on the bus and watch some TV and have a little snack. That is, if I don't pass out first from being more tired than I was after riding every ride twice at Disneyland.

“Okay,” Vi says. “Go get changed then. I'll meet you back here in five.”

“Huh?” I say.

“Your meet-and-greets are waiting. And then you've got autographs. We won't run out of pens like last time,” Vi assures me.

Meet and greets? Autographs? Are you kidding me?
A
rock
star's work is never done.
But that's okay, 'cause I am on top of the world right now. I totally rocked the house—I mean
the
Superdome!
And now I get to feel the love all up close and personal. This has got to be what it's all about.

I swing back through wardrobe to slip out of my last sweaty, sparkly outfit. Toni hands me a soft, colorful T-shirt dress, a cozy red cardigan (because it's actually freezing in this place when you're not racing back and forth across a stage), and a pair of cushiony flats.

I skip around the corner with these big security guys surrounding me on all sides. As I get close to the room where I'll be signing autographs, I can hear the chanting. “Bec-ca! Bec-ca! Bec-ca!” How awesome is that? I have to say, I'm kind of getting used to the
beyond
bonkers
fan-love
these people have for me—I mean Becca. I wonder if I would ever get tired of it. Probably not.

I take a deep breath and smile. When the security dudes open the door for me, the chanting turns to high-pitched, burst-your-eardrums screaming. Yeah, I might be able to do without
that
part. Whoa.

My fans, mostly moms and daughters, are gated off with a red velvet rope, and they are going completely crazy. The girls are screaming and crying and jumping up and down. A few of the moms are too. Some of the moms are holding their daughters back as they reach out to touch me when I walk by. One lady apparently let go of her little gremlin because all of a sudden, I feel this yank in the back of my head.

Sister
of
a
twisted
sock
monkey!
Somebody just pulled my hair out! Just a little bit, but what in the world? Are these fans totally nuts?

Vi rushes over to me. She is not happy. She yells something I can't hear at the security guys.

“I'm so, so sorry, sweetie!” she says. “They're just so obsessed with your hair. I promise it won't happen again.”

“What? Why would they do that? They want a souvenir
of
me
? Ewww!” I yell so Vi can hear me over the screaming.

“I know, I know,” she says, encouraging me. “This is not your favorite part, but remember, the fans are why you get to be the world-famous Becca Starr, right?”

I nod in agreement, rubbing the back of my head.

Vi walks me into another gated-off section with special red carpet and fancy, satin curtains around it. I plop down on the little couch, take a few big swigs of water, and catch my breath.

“Do you need a minute or are you good?” Vi asks.

“I'm good,” I say, because by now I know I'm supposed to say that, even if I'm not.

I had no idea what a “meet and greet” was when Vi first said it, but it doesn't take me long to figure it out. Of all of the millions of kids who want a piece of Becca, a special handful get to spend a whole two minutes in her—I mean my—company.

Vi brings in my first meet-and-greet, a mother/daughter duo. The mom sits down next to me, smiling like the cat that caught the mouse. The little girl stands smack in front of me. She seems really nervous and for some reason, she's not saying a thing.

“Becca, this is Harmony Lynn and her mom Shayna Lynn,” Vi tells me. “They drove all the way from Abilene to see you tonight.”

“Harmony Lynn! You stand straight up, girl, and do it just like we practiced!” Shayna Lynn is barking like a dog and poor Harmony Lynn, who must be about six years old, looks terrified.

Do
what
? I wonder. Then Harmony Lynn starts to sing in a sweet, raspy little voice that I can barely hear over the crowd.

“
If
this
is
the
road, then where do I go? Nothing's for real, when it's all for show
…”

“That's enough!” the mom yells, turning to me. “She doesn't do that next part too good yet. But what do you think? We think she's got what it takes to make it big in the singing world. That's why we named her Harmony. We knew the second she popped out she was gonna be a star. Just like you, Becca. Do
you
think she's got what it takes? Do you? Do you?”

“Well, I…I think she's great!” I stammer, not knowing what else to say and looking over at Vi.

“And here's her picture from the Abilene Teeny Queen Pageant,” Shayna Lynn says, shoving a wrinkled newspaper clipping in my face.

Vi picks up on what's happening and slips her phone into her pocket.

“Okay, ladies, a quick picture and then we've got to keep things moving,” Vi announces.

“Our number's on the back of that clip, Becca! Let us know what you can do for Harmony Lynn here!” Shayna Lynn yells as she is ushered out.

Was that an
audition
? Super-duper weird. But if I've learned anything today, it's that things can always get weirder.

“Okay, Bec, next we have Angel and her mom Betty-Jo,” Vi says, giving me the heads-up as Angel and her mom come in. “You'll remember them from the Dallas show?”

The little girl grabs a bottle of water from my side table like she owns the place and plops down way too close to me.

“So here's how I see it, Becca,” Angel starts, smacking her chewing gum and breathing a burst of sickeningly sweet berry right into my face. She can't be more than eight years old, even though she's carrying a grown-up purse and is wearing high-heeled sandals. “Your third costume change is getting really tired looking. You need to get something new there, and I suggest a bright blue. That's really good for TV too, you know. And that backup dancer girl? The one with the nose ring and the spiky hair? She has
got
to go.”

“Oh…well, I—” I begin, but Angel is not finished.

“And you totally didn't do that flip over thingy with the boy dancers during ‘Saturday Night Par-tay' like you did in Topeka,” Angel continues. “Big mistake. Overall, I'd give tonight, like, a six.”

I sit there with my mouth kind of hanging open. Who does this girl think she is? Some kind of big-time Becca Starr expert? To think Becca has to put up with rude kids like this every day! Wow. I'd like to tell this little monster where to shove her stinky mouthful of Dubble Bubble. But I don't.

“Al-righty then, Angel! And what an angel you are. Thanks for the feedback and we'll see you in Austin,” Vi says, rolling her eyes in my direction and sending them on their way.

“What's Angel's deal?” I lean in to ask Vi.

“Oh, you can't possibly have forgotten about your traveling fan club, could you?” Vi laughs. “Angel is the kid whose dad started Little Kibble Kitten Chow. Her parents homeschool her so she never has to miss a concert. You know, they ride around in that bus that looks just like yours, and they put your picture right next to Angel's on the side of it? It's totally creepy. And obnoxious, right?”

“Umm, yeah, a little bit!” I say, thinking how I definitely could not handle these people on a daily basis.

Next comes a sweet little girl, maybe about five years old, dragging a dirty blanket behind her. She's sucking her thumb along with a corner of the blanket and snuggles in next to me. Her dad stands off to the side.

“What's
your
name, sweetie?” I ask. She's totally cute.

“Bailey,” she answers, looking up at me with big brown eyes.

See? This is what all of these “meet and greets” should be like
, I think to myself.

Her dad steps in to make Bailey's request for her.

“Bailey would like to get a picture of you with her woobie, if that's okay,” he asks, very respectfully.

“Sure!” I say. Because how sweet is that?

The little girl hands me her blanket and I have to tell you, the smell almost knocks me over. It's sticky and crusty at the same time. Blech! I hold it out to the side and smile with her for the picture, but Bailey looks down, like she's going to cry.

“Umm,” her dad says hesitantly. “She'd like it if you would put a little bit of it in your mouth. Like she does—just the tip. If you don't mind!”

Surely, he's joking
, I think.
But
no.

Bailey looks up at me, all hopeful with those big brown Bambi eyes. She is smiling and trying not to cry at the same time.

Oh, for the love of stinky baby blankets! “Okay, Dad, are you ready?” I yell. I take the disgusting woobie, and for one half of one second, I stick that thing in the corner of my open mouth and smile. I almost gag, but Bailey is grinning ear to ear.

“Wait, I'm not sure my flash went off…” the dad is saying, fiddling with his camera, as Vi ushers them out through the gate.

Where's the germ juice? I need a breath mint! Is this what Becca has to deal with every night? What's all that security for anyway?

I meet a ton more kids and some of them are totally normal and don't tell me what I did wrong or ask me to chew their gum, which is a relief. I sign autographs until I can't feel my hand anymore. A lot of the fans even seem like girls I'd be friends with back home at first. Except when I talk to them, they start shaking and crying. And every single one asks me to sign my autograph to “my BFF” and tells me how much she loves me. How weird is that? They don't
love
me
! I mean Becca. They don't even
know
her
!

It's after midnight when the whole crazy backstage thing is finally over. I limp back to the bus with Vi. I've never stayed up this late at my own sleepover party or even 'til the ball drops on New Year's Eve.

“Great show tonight,” Vi says. “You were on fire! I don't think I've ever seen you so…”

But I'm sound asleep before she can even finish her sentence.