Overrated | The Voice France / MIKA & OC

1.1 - Room Full Of Strangers. Teams

... So, sit straight, don't look to the camera, talk to the staff, got it. What should I say?

Hi, my name is Alice, I'm 22, and I'm... here to see Mika?

Funny, I know! I'm serious, though. I'm not planning to be a professional singer. I don't want to compete with anyone. I just want to meet my idol. I learned to sing with his songs, and so this little performance is the least I can do to thank him.
Today I'm going to sing one of the rare pieces - Overrated, but not the one on the album, the demo version, that... Nevermind, just believe me, it's not a common entry for a Mika song.

Risky? Perhaps. I may not make the judges choose me, but I'll show Mika that I exist and I love him. That's all I want.

I fake my best smile to the camera, trying to present my anxiety as excitement. If I can fool everyone else, maybe I can also convince myself that all I said was true.

- How would you feel if they do push the button? - the staff asks as I follow him through the studio after the interview. I guess he heard me talk before.

- I... Will be the happiest and the most confused girl on Earth? - I shrug, as it sends my mind in the direction I really didn't want it to go: hopes and dreams.

Because, it's time I admit to myself: of course I want to be on the show. I love being on stage, no matter how terrified I am. There's a part of me who always says "Why not?" or "What if...?". The same part that will surely overwhelm me in frustration when I fail. Call it hope, call it false expectations, but I could never force myself to be more humble.

And what can I do, except repeating to myself: I'm here for Mika, not the victory, hoping that it can silence my ambitions.

I get to a big hall which I have seen on the telly. It's that red-white hall where all the contestants wait for their audition.

My very first thought is - I'm in heaven. I wanted to be here since the first eason I saw. This place is huge. My apartments can fit here 4 times. And there's instruments everywhere. Guitars, drums, saxophones, and god knows what else. Enormous portraits of 4 coaches - Garou, Florent, Jenifer and Mika - on the walls. And people, amazing people, all talented and ambitious, fill the room with music.

My support group of Justine and Andrea is lost somewhere, so after a minute-two of awkward wandering I notice the grand piano and rush to it. Then I spend another minute looking around again.

I've never seen so many good musicians in one place. I feel a little flawed, looking at how they can easily and effortlessly sing the most difficult songs. They must have had many years of doing it professionally. And I? I recorded myself on tape and read self-help books - that's all my training! The thought sends me spiraling again - what a huge mistake I've made! I should have lied, should have said I didn't pass the first audition and just forget it!

I guess my thoughts are easy to read on my face, because a friendly-looking girl approaches me. She's tall and curvy, just the girl Mika sang about in "Big Girl, You Are Beautiful", because, well, she is very beautiful. Black hair, clean skin, dark eyes framed in-

I hold back a squeal of excitement when I recognise her glasses. Lozza, 2013 collection. I bet they have a cute inscription that you see only when you take them off. A limited line designed by one particular Lebanese singer.

- Oh thank god I'm not the only freak in here! - she greets me and introduces herself, - Emily. Well. Amelie, but I'm going with Emily this time. How the heck did they let you sing in this?

She makes a gesture to my clothes, then pulls at her own multiple strings of colorful beads, answering the question herself:

- Same as me, duh! - she chuckles, - Did you hear they got a new producer? He probably wanted to stir things up a bit. Let's hope we're not here to be humiliated, like on the X Factor.

Great, another thing to get worried about. Emily probably sees my growing anxiety and tries to cheer me up:

- That's not true, obviously. You'd never make it to the Blinds otherwise. We're all equally talented here, and equally scared. Some of us just know how to appear confident. That girl, for instance, who looks like an elf, - she points across the hall, - Her name is Karen. This show is her last chance. She must have attempted all possible talent contests, but she was rejected everywhere. They say she's just too strange for television.

Karen is sitting on one of the couches and singing with her eyes closed, and there's a little group of listeners around her. Her waist-length hair is dyed white, and she looks, well, exactly what Emily said, like an elf - tall, pale and graceful. Her voice effortlessly slides very low and back up, and I realise she sings both parts of a duet.

- But she keeps trying, - I ask, - Why?

- I don't know. She didn't tell me much. I just see her everywhere, on every audition. You know, I've been quite everywhere too, so don't be surprised... Anyway, - she takes a seat next to me and points at the other contestant, - That guy is Gaspard. He had never sung in public. Ever. He's all immersed in writing just to forget that he's going to perform.

Gaspard is a tall tanned guy, maybe a year or two older than me. He looks like he has just walked out of a cartoon, with his big brown eyes, long doll-like eyelashes and a mop of curly hair. He's writing something on a crumbled paper, sitting on the floor, all alone.

- Then why is he here? - I ask.

- It's challenge for him. He said that... Ugh, - the girl rolls her eyes, trying to remember, -That "if he haven't done something like this, he would have been in big trouble". Direct quote. He's not much of a talker, though, I don't think you can pull out anything else from him.

- This one looks pretty self-assured, - I say, looking at a guy next to us.

- Of course he does, - Emily agrees, - That's Lucas. He said that has been singing in musicals since thirteen. But don't get distracted by it, he's still very nervous on stage. Especially in front of his idol.

Lucas is a man of 30-something with short dark-brown curly hair and a wide, charming smile. He's a bit short, but his moves are smooth and confident. For some reason he reminds me of Gringoire from Notre Dame De Paris.

- And for whom is he going? - I ask Emily.

- Florent Pagny. Can you imagine?

- Who said Florent? - Lucas immediatetly perks up, then sees us and comes over,- Giving a little introduction to the newcomer, I see? She's right, I grew up with his songs, he's like my second father.

He looks at me with a crooked grin:

- And you, let me guess... Garou?

I shake my head with a smile. Isn't that obvious? Mika is a fashion freak, I'm clearly inspired by him, so it won't be long before-

- No-no-no. The jacket and the beads, and (Holy Johnny!) Kukulakuku - it's Mika, am I right? - Emily says, and when she gets the confirmation, she takes my hand and shakes it firmly.

- Tell me your name, my new friend, - she says dramatically.

- Alice. You can call me Ms Brown, if you want.

- You have a weird accent, - says Lucas, - You're not French, are you?

 My English is decent, but French is still not as brilliant, and people keep pointing that out. I have nothing else to do than shrug.   

- Yeah. Moved here when I was 8.

- I knew I already heard that accent today!

He leaves for a second and comes back with a lanky redhead hippie.

- Adel, it's Alice, and I think she's your compatriot, - he declares. The redhead distrustfully looks at me, then shakes my hand and says.

- Совпадение? (Coincidence?) - he tests me in my mother tongue.

- Не думаю (I think not), - I reply. Adel giggles.

- What?

- Guess we immigrants are cursed to have an accent in every language we speak, - he replies with a smile.

- That's my number! - Emily says, looking for a staff member that called her, - See you on the other side.

She and Lucas leave, and, judging by Adel's number on his shirt, it won't be long for him as well.