| The next morning, we met up at New York's Hard Rock Cafe for the audition. I was mentally prepared, even overconfident, but found my body shivering, shaking, and sweating. Justly reproved for my hubris, I scoped out the competition. Most were of the traditional pretty-boy mold, with the occasional Dawson's Creek forehead or black person mixed in, dressed in Nautica and Tommy Hilfiger--an enormous, burgeoning mass of adolescent hope. |
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| One advantage I seemed to have over my fellow auditionees was my look. Unlike the majority of the preppy, khaki-clad teenagers there, I was clad in stylish vintage clothing, a blue polyester patterned shirt and black pants. This made me stand out from my peers. My strategy at the time was to capitalize on my research of boy bands: i.e. each unit has one member who is "strange" and serves as a contrast to the other four tall, all-American boys. Since I am not tall, blonde, or in possession of a six-pack abdomen, this is the role I was shooting for. You need to learn to play to your strengths. |
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