Seacrest and his camera crew greeted the kid in the hall for his exit interview, and caught a full second of rage before he melted into a teary mess of Midwestern dream vomit. Who was there with the sawdust and vacuum? The kid’s mom (I assume), who comforted him with a hug and the reassuring statement “Don’t worry honey, you’re only 16. You’ll still be famous.”
What the fuck?
What happened to “Don’t worry honey, you’ll still go to college,” or “Don’t worry honey, at least you’re still the tri-county area’s 2006 hippie sticks tumbling champion,” or even “Don’t worry honey, you’re still my boy?” I guess it’s fine for parents to encourage their little chickadees to sing, even when they can’t. But encouraging them with something as callow as fame seems like child endangerment. Success, maybe. That has its problems as a dream, too, but at least there’s something tangible to achieve. Fame or celebrity are just empty words interchangeable with Daughtry, Nicole Richie, and Tila Tequila. Besides, what that kid and his mom didn’t realize is that he just was famous, and that now it was over. In 2007, fame is pretty lame.
Anyways, Good luck, dude! Oh wait, you can’t read this. You’re stuffed in a locker with those hippie sticks jammed down your jeans.
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