thank you for not sucking like a vacuum
Story: the Tale of Tate Mills
Title: Sing it Out Loud part 25
Rating: PG
Challenge: Vanilla #29 My favorite thing(s)/fetish (es), chocolate chip #16 Boisterous, mango #27 Something to tell the grandkids
Toppings/Extras:
Word count: 881
Summary: Tate has just started Sing It Out Loud the famous singing competition. He’s in the quarter finals. Tate is reconnected with Emery and meets a few new faces along the way. But as always, things don’t always go according to Tate’s plans.
Notes: This is part twenty-five of the Tale of Tate Mills. Thank you for reading. There is a still a long way to go, so please bear with me and keep reading. Tate’s life is only going to get more interesting.
There are 127 hopefuls in the competition from all over America from every race, religion, and lifestyle imaginable. After the nationwide search, out of 75,000 people who auditioned, only 127 moved on to the next stage of the competition. Its two weeks of televised quarterfinals or as past contenders have nicknamed it, “Hell Camp.”
During these two weeks we are meeting with vocal coaches, dance instructors, to learn songs and perform for the judges. The first round is a solo number of our selection. Round two is the group number. Everyone says that’s the hardest because there are often clashing personalities in the groups. Round three is thirty seconds to pass. You sing for thirty seconds and if you wow the judges you’re almost guaranteed a pass to the semi-finals (which are the first live portion of the show). Boot camp will be broadcasted in mid February, because it’s not live.
The first couple of days are like an orientation so everyone can get to know everyone and so the producers can get to know us, I guess. I’ve checked into the hotel where the contenders stay during the duration of the competition.
My roommate is a twenty-seven year-old weather man from Nevada named Rodéo Martinez. He’s a good singer. Actually, good is an understatement, he is an incredible singer. I’m actually quite intimidated by him, too bad he has the personality of barbed wire and the ego of a super villain.
I’ve done everything required of me this morning so now I am waiting for Emery to check in. She texted me saying she got lost, but should be here soon. I’ve been sitting in the hotel talking to some of the other guys.
I really hit it off with a couple of them, one of them, Micah Summers, is stupendously talented and only nineteen. He writes his own songs, he can dance, and has the smoothest voice I’ve ever heard. He and I have hung out since we checked in this morning.
He asks me about all the women in the competition, while plucking a chord on his bass.
There are lots of women. The majority of contestants are women. We’re out numbered, but I’m okay with that. None of those women really matter to me. The only one I want to see hasn’t arrived yet.
I get accused of being a babe magnet because I’m muscular and have nice hair. I do not quite understand Micah’s logic, but I assure him, I am no stud.
I receive a text from Emery. She’s just checked in.
I say bye to my new friend and leave to meet with the one person I couldn’t wait to see.
I greet Emery in the lobby fiddling with her schedule, room assignment and her luggage. She doesn’t see me approach her so I use the opportunity to sneak up on her. I tap on the back. She jumps about a mile and pulls out pepper spray.
“Oh, it’s you,” She says smiling.
She puts away the spray and literally jumps into my arms. My heart starts racing. I hug her. She excitedly tells me about her life up to the present. It only takes her fifteen minutes.
“Have you met with the producers yet?” I ask helping carry her luggage to the elevator.
"Yes, I just came from there actually. So what are we doing tonight?” Emery asks.
“The orientation dinner is tonight,” I remind her.
“I say we skip it and go have some fun,” Emery says.
“It’s mandatory,” I remind her.
Emery’s room isn’t on the same floor as mine. I frown. Her roommate is some Scandinavian girl named Sari (pronounced Sorry, I think). Emery drops her stuff, runs, and jumps onto the second bed. She begins bouncing like a small child. She asks me to join her.
when we're both winded we lay at the foot of the bed. She turns her head toward me. I look at her face.
I’ve missed that face. It’s the face that’s been in my dreams both sleeping and waking. It’s the face I’ve thought about every day since we met.
We talk about how much we missed each other. She smacks my leg with her hand and asks what my favorite scary movie is. I answer: anything with Dakota Fanning. She gives me the creeps.
She rolls on top of me. My heart starts zigzagging in my chest; her face is so close to mine I could almost kiss her. A good part of me wants too. Goosebumps form on my arms and legs that have nothing to do with the temperature.
“You have pretty eyes,” Emery tells me.
I want to tell her that she does too. She has pretty eyes, pretty hair, a pretty smile, pretty teeth, a pretty face, everything about her is pretty. She strokes my face with her right hand. Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“I owe you a hug,” She says.
Oh yeah you do! You better deliver too. Without thinking about it I wrap my arms around her. She embraces me for a short moment. When she releases me my body shakes. I could stay like this forever.
Title: Sing it Out Loud part 25
Rating: PG
Challenge: Vanilla #29 My favorite thing(s)/fetish (es), chocolate chip #16 Boisterous, mango #27 Something to tell the grandkids
Toppings/Extras:
Word count: 881
Summary: Tate has just started Sing It Out Loud the famous singing competition. He’s in the quarter finals. Tate is reconnected with Emery and meets a few new faces along the way. But as always, things don’t always go according to Tate’s plans.
Notes: This is part twenty-five of the Tale of Tate Mills. Thank you for reading. There is a still a long way to go, so please bear with me and keep reading. Tate’s life is only going to get more interesting.
There are 127 hopefuls in the competition from all over America from every race, religion, and lifestyle imaginable. After the nationwide search, out of 75,000 people who auditioned, only 127 moved on to the next stage of the competition. Its two weeks of televised quarterfinals or as past contenders have nicknamed it, “Hell Camp.”
During these two weeks we are meeting with vocal coaches, dance instructors, to learn songs and perform for the judges. The first round is a solo number of our selection. Round two is the group number. Everyone says that’s the hardest because there are often clashing personalities in the groups. Round three is thirty seconds to pass. You sing for thirty seconds and if you wow the judges you’re almost guaranteed a pass to the semi-finals (which are the first live portion of the show). Boot camp will be broadcasted in mid February, because it’s not live.
The first couple of days are like an orientation so everyone can get to know everyone and so the producers can get to know us, I guess. I’ve checked into the hotel where the contenders stay during the duration of the competition.
My roommate is a twenty-seven year-old weather man from Nevada named Rodéo Martinez. He’s a good singer. Actually, good is an understatement, he is an incredible singer. I’m actually quite intimidated by him, too bad he has the personality of barbed wire and the ego of a super villain.
I’ve done everything required of me this morning so now I am waiting for Emery to check in. She texted me saying she got lost, but should be here soon. I’ve been sitting in the hotel talking to some of the other guys.
I really hit it off with a couple of them, one of them, Micah Summers, is stupendously talented and only nineteen. He writes his own songs, he can dance, and has the smoothest voice I’ve ever heard. He and I have hung out since we checked in this morning.
He asks me about all the women in the competition, while plucking a chord on his bass.
There are lots of women. The majority of contestants are women. We’re out numbered, but I’m okay with that. None of those women really matter to me. The only one I want to see hasn’t arrived yet.
I get accused of being a babe magnet because I’m muscular and have nice hair. I do not quite understand Micah’s logic, but I assure him, I am no stud.
I receive a text from Emery. She’s just checked in.
I say bye to my new friend and leave to meet with the one person I couldn’t wait to see.
I greet Emery in the lobby fiddling with her schedule, room assignment and her luggage. She doesn’t see me approach her so I use the opportunity to sneak up on her. I tap on the back. She jumps about a mile and pulls out pepper spray.
“Oh, it’s you,” She says smiling.
She puts away the spray and literally jumps into my arms. My heart starts racing. I hug her. She excitedly tells me about her life up to the present. It only takes her fifteen minutes.
“Have you met with the producers yet?” I ask helping carry her luggage to the elevator.
"Yes, I just came from there actually. So what are we doing tonight?” Emery asks.
“The orientation dinner is tonight,” I remind her.
“I say we skip it and go have some fun,” Emery says.
“It’s mandatory,” I remind her.
Emery’s room isn’t on the same floor as mine. I frown. Her roommate is some Scandinavian girl named Sari (pronounced Sorry, I think). Emery drops her stuff, runs, and jumps onto the second bed. She begins bouncing like a small child. She asks me to join her.
when we're both winded we lay at the foot of the bed. She turns her head toward me. I look at her face.
I’ve missed that face. It’s the face that’s been in my dreams both sleeping and waking. It’s the face I’ve thought about every day since we met.
We talk about how much we missed each other. She smacks my leg with her hand and asks what my favorite scary movie is. I answer: anything with Dakota Fanning. She gives me the creeps.
She rolls on top of me. My heart starts zigzagging in my chest; her face is so close to mine I could almost kiss her. A good part of me wants too. Goosebumps form on my arms and legs that have nothing to do with the temperature.
“You have pretty eyes,” Emery tells me.
I want to tell her that she does too. She has pretty eyes, pretty hair, a pretty smile, pretty teeth, a pretty face, everything about her is pretty. She strokes my face with her right hand. Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“I owe you a hug,” She says.
Oh yeah you do! You better deliver too. Without thinking about it I wrap my arms around her. She embraces me for a short moment. When she releases me my body shakes. I could stay like this forever.