Fifteen Minutes

chapter 9

Chandra was at the airport the next morning when she spotted Zack. He was with a couple of the guys who had made it through, the three of them buying water bottles at a Hudson News stand. Kelly and Cullen had taken the private flight on the Fifteen Minutes jet the night before. Chandra had an early meeting with her manager, so she’d opted for a commercial flight. The same one as the contestants.

She hadn’t stopped thinking of Zack since his audition. He had it all, Zack Dylan. The voice, the look, the rare and intangible charisma that set stars apart from everyone else. Chandra had hoped for the chance to talk to him. She was partway out of her seat before she stopped herself.

There was no rush. They would be holed up in the same Lower West Side château in the Village. Besides, she couldn’t talk to him here, with so many other contestants gathered near the gate. For now it was enough to watch him, to imagine what the world would do with him once he was discovered. Poor boy, she thought as she settled back into the hard airport seat. He has no idea what he’s headed for. No idea that his days of wandering casually unnoticed through a busy airport are about to be cut short. Zack and the guys headed for a section of seats not far from Chandra. She glanced in that direction and saw several other contestants including the blond cheerleader, the one who had been in the tent auditions with Zack.

Chandra stared straight ahead. Last night’s meeting with Samuel Meier and the rest of the judges and production staff had been jarring. It was the first of its kind. Until now they’d been focused on the cities and finding the right kinds of contestants. That alone had been strange. Samuel Meier kept a list. There needed to be a racial mix, a gender mix, and a diversity of stories. Especially that.

But yesterday’s meeting had taken another slant altogether. The team sat in chairs gathered in a circle on the set with Meier standing in the middle. “We have a few new policies. Strategies, I guess.” He glanced at Cullen. “They’ve always been a part of the show, but now they’re going to be in writing. Legal wants it that way.” He wandered to a nearby open chair and sat down. His looked at the faces in the circle. “First, we are not a show that endorses any one religion.” He moved on quickly. “We’ve been fairly lenient with our contestants. But from here out we have to be more careful.” He held up a piece of paper. “Legal has crafted a release that every contestant will have to sign. Basically saying they won’t talk about their faith on the show once we’re at the New York rounds.”

Chandra had felt ice in her veins. She wasn’t a spokesperson for her parents’ faith. But no one should be silenced about something that defined them. Whatever it was. She raised her hand.

“Yes.” Samuel’s expression told her to be careful; better to go along than to push back. “Chandra. You have a comment?”

“I do.” She slid to the edge of her seat, staring at the expressions around her. “Does that seem a little weird to anyone else?” Her eyes turned back to Samuel. “What if they like knitting or ballet or watercolors? Will they have to be careful how much they talk about those things?”

“Chandra.” The warning note was there again. “Religion is different. You were a contestant. You should know that.”

“Okay.” Chandra crossed her arms. “I have another question.” She didn’t wait for his approval. “Why are contestants allowed to talk about God at all? They have to put it on their application, right? Religious preference? Are you outspoken about your faith? That sort of thing. So why not tell them upfront that they can’t talk about it?”

“Because.” Cullen chuckled. “Christians bring in viewers.” He winked at Samuel. “Right, bloke?”

“True.” Samuel smiled. “Nothing wrong with that. At first the show belongs to the contestants. But once we get to New York, contestants belong to the show.”

Chandra blinked and the memory of the meeting dissolved. But his words still troubled her soul. She looked over her shoulder at Zack again. He was sitting between two contestants—the black gospel singer and the blond cheerleader, Zoey. No question the blonde had it bad for Zack. Chandra studied the guy, the innocence in his eyes. When would he be presented with the release? Told that he couldn’t talk about the God he believed in?

She remembered something else. She’d heard Kip say that Zack and Zoey were an item.

“I like it. The alliteration. Their good looks.” Samuel nodded and signed something on Kip’s clipboard. “Let’s run with it.”

Chandra had wanted to scream. Run with what? The insinuation of a relationship that wasn’t there? She shifted in her seat so she could see them better. America would love Zack and Zoey. But what if he didn’t want to be paired up with her? Chandra pictured the handsome face of her own former fiancé, the one she’d lost during the run of the show. What if Zack had a life before he auditioned? The way Chandra had.

Sadness came over her. The young man from Kentucky stood out in the group of contestants. The show would make him a star, she had no doubt. But she worried about him. What if the show changed him? What if it cost him something he held dear from his former life? The truth was, if Zack wound up being a finalist, the unsuspecting young man waiting for his flight to New York City would never go back to Kentucky. Not exactly like this.

She thought about her parents and how much she missed them. Can you see me, Mama? Is there a hole in the floor of heaven where you’re watching me? You’d be so proud. Your girl, a judge on Fifteen Minutes. She closed her eyes. Her mother should’ve been sitting beside her. Her mom loved Manhattan. Her father would’ve given them a long list of dos and don’ts, how they had to be careful around the taxis and wait for the green light when they crossed the street. He would’ve told them not to stay out too late and to be aware of who was around them.

Her daddy had loved her so much. But her mom had been her friend. Her best friend. Winning this show had cost Chandra so much.

Already she could feel tears welling in her eyes. She couldn’t cry. Not in public. Even with her head down, a number of people had already recognized her—though thankfully none of them had come up for her autograph. She was pretty sure a few cell phones were aimed at her from across the concourse. People who would put up YouTube clips of Chandra Olson sitting at the airport. No, she couldn’t cry. People would always associate her with the tragic death of her parents. If someone snapped a shot of her wiping tears, the picture would make the front page of tabloids. “Chandra Olson Missing Her Parents.”

If she were going to move on, then she needed to grieve in private.

There were two reasons why she’d agreed to be a judge. Because maybe in walking through a season from behind the judge’s table, she would see again the girl she’d been. She would find her past.

The second reason was to make a difference for someone else. She called up a photo on her phone—the one taken minutes before she left home for her Fifteen Minutes audition. Her parents and her fiancé were gathered around her, believing in her. She looked deep into her mother’s eyes.

His name is Zack, Mama . . . I know you’re up there with Jesus. So if you could help out this young singer, that’d be great. Ask God to give me the chance to talk to him. Maybe even to warn him. She pictured her mother, her soft brown skin and shining eyes. I miss you. So much I can hardly breathe sometimes. Only you know the real me, the one I can’t show the world. The girl who just wants to go home and have her mama and daddy waiting for her. I’m still that girl, Mama. I am. I still cry every night missing you.

Chandra switched gears. She couldn’t stay in the past, not for more than a few minutes. She checked her boarding pass, anything to bring her back to the present. The truth was something no one knew. Something no camera would ever capture.

Just the way Chandra wanted it.

HE COULDN’T FIND a minute alone. Even here at the airport. That was the problem, and Zack knew he had to do something about it. Ever since his few minutes in front of the judges, since the whole Tebowing circus, he’d been moved from one event or interview or meeting to another.

His roommate—Jackson Blackwell, from the gospel choir—sat next to him, humming. “You like that, Zack?” Jackson’s smile was contagious.

“Don’t know it.”

“Really? Come on! That’s ‘Souled Out’ by Hezekiah Walker.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Man, everyone knows that jam. We sing it every Sunday.”

Zack laughed. “Not at my church.”

“Well.” He slapped his knee. “When this madness is over I’m paying a visit to Kentucky and we’ll fix that right up.”

“Deal.” Zack nodded.

“I wanna be there for that.” Zoey sat on his other side, her eyes bright. “Okay, Zack? You gotta tell me.”

Zack checked the time on his phone. At this rate he wouldn’t find a single moment to talk to Reese.

“Attention,” a voice came from the airport loudspeaker. “We will begin boarding in a few minutes. Please have your boarding pass ready.”

During the interruption Zoey hurried over to the gospel singer to listen to more Hezekiah music off Jackson’s phone. Today she seemed intent on flirting with other guys, maybe to prove to Zack she had options. Whatever her deal, Zack didn’t care. He was grateful for a few seconds alone.

Last night the contestants didn’t get back to the hotel until well after midnight, the first free time all day. Jackson had gotten on the phone with a buddy from back home, and Zack had sent a series of texts. He read them again now.

I can talk now if you’re up. Crazy day around here. Don’t know if you’ve been following everything on Twitter, but I made it through! I’m headed to New York! And yeah, the producers gave us times when we were supposed to update Twitter, but we had no other time until this minute. Anyway, I wanted to call you sooner, baby. Can you talk?

He figured she would be up late, waiting to hear from him. But five minutes became ten, so he sent her another text. Please don’t be mad at me. I haven’t talked to my parents or anyone. I couldn’t even use my phone till now. Except for Twitter. I thought about you all day. I hoped you were reading my tweets.

There was no response until early this morning when he was in the shower. Headed to the stable. Didn’t see your texts till now. Congrats on making it through . . . praying for you.

He had texted her three times since then. Good morning, beautiful. On my way to the airport. No response. Through security, baby. Text me. Nothing. At the gate. I have almost an hour before we board. Are you there? Still nothing. Her silence was louder than the few lines she’d jotted off this morning. He had a feeling she was upset, but he couldn’t be sure. They needed to talk. He swallowed hard and looked out the window at a plane taking off. If she was upset now, wait till she saw the audition. He would explain it all before the show aired. That was his only hope.

“What’re you doing?” Zoey was back beside him. She leaned in, pressing her cheek against his arm and peering down at his phone. “Texting the girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” He clicked the screen off. “She’s super happy for me.”

“Is she on Twitter?”

“Not a lot.” He didn’t want this conversation. Didn’t want to smell Zoey’s perfume. He edged away from her and smiled. “I gotta make a few phone calls. I’ll be back.”

He walked to the corner of the waiting area and dropped to the floor. With one hand shading his eyes he searched his phone’s Twitter account. How would Reese take the things he’d tweeted yesterday? He’d talked about the show. Done the hashtag #FifteenMinutes thing the way the producers had asked. But he’d also mentioned his faith in almost every tweet.

Then he checked something he hadn’t before. His @s. The tweets that had been directed to him in the last few days. What he saw shocked him. Zoey must’ve known a hundred high school girls, and all of them were now following Zack. Most of the tweets were from Zoey. Including one she’d shot off ten minutes ago.

Headed to NY for next round of #FifteenMinutes. Sitting next to @ZackDylan. Yaaa, baby! Whatever cologne he’s wearing it’s perfect. #Winning

Zack felt his heart sink. If Reese had checked these tweets, no telling what she was thinking. Actually, he knew her well enough to know. She would trust him. She had no reason not to. But the comments could have bugged her enough that she might’ve turned off her phone. Or stopped checking Twitter altogether.

He needed to call her. He clicked her number and waited. Three rings, four . . . on the fifth her voice came on the line. “I’m out with Zack or the horses. You know how it goes. Leave a message and God bless!”

He waited for the beep. “Hey, baby, I’m at the airport. Not sure if you’re getting my texts. Just wanted you to know I miss you. I can’t believe I made it through. I’ll be in New York in a few hours. Call me and I’ll tell you what happens next.” He paused. “I love you. Please call.”

Zack felt the frustration in every cell of his body. The producers had told them that when they landed in New York their lives would get crazy. “You thought you were busy here?” one of the assistants had told the group headed to Manhattan. “Wait till you reach the city. You won’t have time to turn around.”

Call me, Reese . . . come on.

He could feel Zoey looking at him every minute or so. Zack ignored her. He had another call to make: to his father. Other than a few texts he hadn’t checked in with his family. His dad answered on the first ring. “Son! Congratulations! We’re all so proud of you.”

Zack pictured himself Tebowing in the minutes after getting his red ticket. How would he explain that to his parents when the show aired? He squeezed his eyes shut. “Thanks, Dad. It’s crazy out here. I can only imagine New York.”

“You’ll be fine. You know who you are.” Joy rang in his father’s tone, the kind he had always had for Zack and his efforts.

“Did you and Mom talk to the guy at the bank?”

“Listen.” His dad’s voice fell. “Please. Don’t worry about that now. Just focus on singing for God.”

“I have to think about it.” Zack laughed a little. “Saving the farm . . . that’s one of the reasons I’m here. You know that.”

“We’ll figure it out. If we have to sell it, then the Lord has a different plan.”

“I don’t want to sell it.” He gritted his teeth. “I want to raise my kids there, Dad.” He stopped himself. This wasn’t the place. “Talk to the guy at the bank. Get the loan. Tell him we’ll pay him back as soon as we can.”

After they hung up, Zack pictured Reese, working at the stable, her long dark hair pulled back while she helped one of the kids. He missed her so much. Call me, Reese. Please. He kept his eyes from the others so he wouldn’t give Zoey a reason to join him. Instead he stared at his phone, willing it to ring. Then he remembered something. There’d been no time to read the Bible since he arrived in Atlanta. He opened the NIV app on his phone and read Colossians 4. Whenever he couldn’t quite see north, he pulled out Colossians 4.

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful . . . Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.

For now, though, he needed to live out the verses. Pray constantly, watch for pitfalls, and thank God with every step. That way he could make the most of every opportunity. He looked at Zoey again. God, help me be wise in the way I treat her and the other contestants. I’m not wise on my own. I’ll mess it up. But with You . . . God, with You I can do this. I know it. I feel it. Please let my dad get the short-term loan, let us keep the farm. And let Reese know I’m still me. I miss her. Thank you, Father. I’m thankful. Truly, I am. Stay with me, Lord. In Jesus’s name, amen.

As he finished praying, he felt someone watching him. He scanned the boarding area and saw Chandra Olson sitting in a row twenty feet from the contestants. Their eyes met and Chandra gave a slight nod. Then she smiled and looked back down at her phone. There was something deep in her eyes. It had been there yesterday during his audition and it was there again now. Like she wanted to talk. She was the only one who knew what it was like to go through the audition process. Maybe she would be helpful in the days ahead. He wanted to talk to her.

But he’d rather talk to Reese.

He remained consumed with the thought until they boarded, constantly checking to see if she had texted him or if he’d somehow missed her call. He even checked Twitter, in case she had chosen to talk to him that way. But there was nothing. He waited until the last possible moment, and then he did what he was asked without talking to Reese. He turned off his phone.

When he turned it on again he would be in New York.