Page 1 of Behind the Bars

Part I

“Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back toloneliness.”

—MayaAngelou

Chapter One

Jasmine

No.

Hearing that word never got easier. It never felt numb or meaningless when someone said it to me. The way their eyes looked me up and down when I walked into a room…the way they judged me for everything I was and everything I wasn’t…the way they whispered as I stoodstill.

No. No. Sorry. No, thank you. It’s a pass thistime.

I’d just turned sixteen, and I’d known rejection more than the average person. I’d been trying to get discovered in the music industry for years, and nothing had ever come from it exceptrejection.

No.

No.

Sorry. No, thankyou.

It’s a pass thistime.

That didn’t stop Mama from driving me from meeting to meeting, from audition to audition, from one ‘no’ to another. That was because I was her star, her shining light. I was going to do everything she’d been unable to accomplish, because that’s what kids were supposed to do, she toldme.

We were supposed to be better than ourparents.

And I would be better, someday. All I needed was for the right person to tell meyes.

I walked out of my third audition that week in New Orleans and I looked at all the other girls who were auditioning for the girl group. I thought I was more of a solo artist, but Mama said I should be happy with any kind of forwardmovement.

“Girl groups are in right now,” she told me. “Pop music sales arebig.”

I never wanted to do pop music, though. My heart bled for soul but Mama said there was no money in soul music for a girl like me—onlydisappointment.

All the other girls auditioning each looked like me, but better somehow. Across the way, Mama’s eyes were wide with hope as she stared at me. A ball of guilt knotted in my gut as I forced asmile.

“Well? How did it go?” she asked me, standing up from her chair in the waitingroom.

“Fine.”

She frowned. “Did you fumble your song? I told you to keep rehearsing the lyrics. This school thing is taking too much time from the real work you should be doing,” she saiddisdainfully.

“No, no. That’s not it. I didn’t forget my lyrics. They were perfect,” I lied. I had fumbled the words, but it was only because of the way the casting director looked at me, as if I was the exact opposite of the part they wanted to fill, but I couldn’t have Mama knowing I’d messed up because that could’ve jeopardized me staying at Canon HighSchool.

“You should’ve tried harder,” she scolded. “We’re spending so much on singing, acting, and dance classes, Jasmine. You shouldn’t be walking out of auditions saying it was ‘fine’. You must be the best. Otherwise, you’ll be nothing. You need to be a triplethreat.”

Triplethreat.

I hated those words. Mama was a singer, but her career had never taken off. She said right before she would have been discovered, she’d gotten knocked up with me, and no one wanted a pregnantsuperstar.

She believed if she hadn’t put all her eggs in one basket, she could’ve made it in another field. Therefore, she made me a triple threat. I couldn’t just be a great singer, I needed to be the best actress and dancer out there, too. More talents meant more opportunities, more opportunities meant more fame, and more fame meant Mama might be proud ofme.

That was all I reallywanted.

“Well, we better get a move on,” she told me. “You have ballet practice across town in forty minutes, then your singing lesson afterward. Then I have to get home and have dinner ready forRay.”

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