Chantelle knew she had what it took to be a pop star. It was, as she explained to the young producer, indeed as she’d explained to anyone who would listen to her, a lifelong dream. Whether at nineteen years of age it was yet possible for Chantelle to have a ‘lifelong dream’ was perhaps a matter for debate, particularly given that until the age of fourteen, Chantelle had actually wanted to be a vet. When she discovered the grades she would need to achieve she conceded that ambition had always been a little fanciful.
But with her good looks, devotion to fashion and her undeniable charisma, becoming a pop star seemed eminently more achievable.
And she could dance.
She could really dance.
She’d never even had lessons. She just knew how to move to music. It was a gift. All her friends agreed, Chantelle was a terrific dancer. Since the days of her very first school disco, she had always been the first on the dance floor, and now every weekend she could be found in nightclubs; strutting her stuff until the early hours of the morning.
The producer asked if he might be able to see some of Chantelle’s moves. The sound system was prepped, a suitable Beyonce track was found and Chantelle gave it her all.
The producer’s smile turned into a grin.
Chantelle was exactly who they were looking for, he said. She would definitely be featured on the show.
The next steps would be to film a short video of Chantelle’s every day life. The mundane office job, interviews with friends and family and Chantelle, centre stage, retelling her story, the story she’d just recounted.
Obviously tweaked a little for television.
But with a focus on the dancing.
The dancing was paramount; he was insistent on that.
Chantelle was thrilled. All her dreams were coming true!
And she would definitely be featured on the television?
The producer confirmed with what almost seemed like a smirk, that a performance in front of the judges and a live audience would be compelling television indeed.
Pleased though she undoubtedly was, there remained, for Chantelle, a small niggle of doubt.
“But you haven’t actually heard me sing,” she said.
“Honey,” replied the producer with an almost ravenous look in his eyes, “I don’t need to hear you sing to know that you are going to be a sensation!”