queen. These are the nominees for female artist of the year…Christina Burkle - ‘Here I Am’, Whitney Milano - ‘Heartbeat’, Sheryl Black - Sheryl Black, and Tanis Morrisey - ‘Razor Sharp Pill’.” Koko carefully tore open the envelope. “And the Grammy goes to…Christina Burkle!”
WhenWhitney Milano shot a bitter glare at her rival, her sentimentswereobvious. The competition had gotten fierce now that Christina Burkle went from movie actress to pop songstress.
Aiden squeezed Whitney’s hand reassuringly and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, baby. You know she has nothing on you.”
Pop veteran Tanis Morrisey came out to present the next award.
“Male pop artists have dominated this year’s charts. With hits like, ‘Everybody Get on the Dance Floor,’ by Aiden Storm to ‘Cry, Cry, Cry,’ by Dustin Ackerland, they have sold millions of albums across the country, and left countless young female fans swooning in their wake. Your nominees for male artist of the year are…Dustin Ackerland - ‘Your Listening Pleasure’, Frank Hatton - ‘Fields of Hatton,” Mr. Sparks - ‘Giddy Up’, and Aiden Storm’s, ‘Must Be the Music.’ And the Grammy goes to….Aiden Storm.”
WhenAiden jumped up from his seatwith a cool smile,Whitney proudly kissed him on the lips. At that moment, the camera aimed toward Dustin who rolled his eyes in response.
Aiden took a deep breath and made his way to the stage whereTanis embraced him and handed him theGrammy.
“Wow,” Aiden said into the microphone. “This is unreal. I really wasn’t prepared for this, but I want to thank my manager, who has been there for me every step of the way. Hue, I will always be so grateful to you. I also have to thank my record producer, Tom Michaels. And Whitney, thank you so much for your support. I love you, baby. Oh, and last but not least, I want to give a big shout-out to my fans. Without you, there would be no Aiden Storm. This one’s for you,” he said, hoisting the award in the air.
At the cue of the music, Aidenheaded backstage where several photographers greeted him by furiously snapping pictures in his face.
Television entertainment reporters crammed together in an effort to secure an interview with the Grammy winner.
“Aiden, how does it feel to be the youngest male performer in history to win a Grammy?” asked a television reporter.
“How are you and Whitney going to celebrate your big night?” asked another.
Aiden felt like he was in some sort of dream standing in the background and watching everything happening around him. He envisioned this moment since the time his father gave him a plastic microphone on his third birthday, now finally, it washisreality.
***
Our lives becameradically differentafter my father died. It started with the dilemma of whereour income would come from, and if momwascapable of becoming the breadwinner.She had no skills other than cooking and cleaning. For months, she searched for any type of job from petty to low paying. I even offered to help out by getting an after-school job, but she insisted I only focus on school. After months of job hunting, she finally got a position at our local grocery store as a checker.
The first year of my father’s death drained any bit of enthusiasm I had left for school. I neared graduation, and my grades fell dramatically. Admittedly, I was no longer interested in doing homework and made little effort to pay attention in my classes.
“What’s going on with you, Alexa? Lately you seem totally out of it,” Ruth whispered in class one afternoon.
“Why do you always ask me that? I told you I’m perfectly fine.”
“Ms. Moore,” my math teacher said suddenly, “would you like to share your secret with the class?”
“Bite me.”
The
WhenWhitney Milano shot a bitter glare at her rival, her sentimentswereobvious. The competition had gotten fierce now that Christina Burkle went from movie actress to pop songstress.
Aiden squeezed Whitney’s hand reassuringly and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, baby. You know she has nothing on you.”
Pop veteran Tanis Morrisey came out to present the next award.
“Male pop artists have dominated this year’s charts. With hits like, ‘Everybody Get on the Dance Floor,’ by Aiden Storm to ‘Cry, Cry, Cry,’ by Dustin Ackerland, they have sold millions of albums across the country, and left countless young female fans swooning in their wake. Your nominees for male artist of the year are…Dustin Ackerland - ‘Your Listening Pleasure’, Frank Hatton - ‘Fields of Hatton,” Mr. Sparks - ‘Giddy Up’, and Aiden Storm’s, ‘Must Be the Music.’ And the Grammy goes to….Aiden Storm.”
WhenAiden jumped up from his seatwith a cool smile,Whitney proudly kissed him on the lips. At that moment, the camera aimed toward Dustin who rolled his eyes in response.
Aiden took a deep breath and made his way to the stage whereTanis embraced him and handed him theGrammy.
“Wow,” Aiden said into the microphone. “This is unreal. I really wasn’t prepared for this, but I want to thank my manager, who has been there for me every step of the way. Hue, I will always be so grateful to you. I also have to thank my record producer, Tom Michaels. And Whitney, thank you so much for your support. I love you, baby. Oh, and last but not least, I want to give a big shout-out to my fans. Without you, there would be no Aiden Storm. This one’s for you,” he said, hoisting the award in the air.
At the cue of the music, Aidenheaded backstage where several photographers greeted him by furiously snapping pictures in his face.
Television entertainment reporters crammed together in an effort to secure an interview with the Grammy winner.
“Aiden, how does it feel to be the youngest male performer in history to win a Grammy?” asked a television reporter.
“How are you and Whitney going to celebrate your big night?” asked another.
Aiden felt like he was in some sort of dream standing in the background and watching everything happening around him. He envisioned this moment since the time his father gave him a plastic microphone on his third birthday, now finally, it washisreality.
***
Our lives becameradically differentafter my father died. It started with the dilemma of whereour income would come from, and if momwascapable of becoming the breadwinner.She had no skills other than cooking and cleaning. For months, she searched for any type of job from petty to low paying. I even offered to help out by getting an after-school job, but she insisted I only focus on school. After months of job hunting, she finally got a position at our local grocery store as a checker.
The first year of my father’s death drained any bit of enthusiasm I had left for school. I neared graduation, and my grades fell dramatically. Admittedly, I was no longer interested in doing homework and made little effort to pay attention in my classes.
“What’s going on with you, Alexa? Lately you seem totally out of it,” Ruth whispered in class one afternoon.
“Why do you always ask me that? I told you I’m perfectly fine.”
“Ms. Moore,” my math teacher said suddenly, “would you like to share your secret with the class?”
“Bite me.”
The
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