You and your mom are a team. You're lucky that way. Other moms don't care if their kids make it, they don't tell their kids when they screwed up.

Those three times she slapped you, you deserved it. You screwed up and she needed to make sure you really remembered. You're talented, but being one in a million means there's two hundred people out there just like you in the United States alone. Your mom had to explain that, the population of the US is something like 227 million or something.

You have to be perfect for every audition because you can always be replaced. You're very talented and you're going to make so much money you can buy a big house for your whole family. You're going to take care of everyone.

But you can be replaced. You could grow up ugly, fat, with chronic acne and no one will want you then. Talent only gets you so far. You better pray you grow up to look like Kevin. You better not eat so much, Mom says, because you never know, you could be one of those boys who ends up chubby. You better not eat fries so much because what if you start breaking out? Two hundred boys out there as good as you, you're only one in a million.

Another damn growth spurt and your shoes are tight and you have to relearn everything every time your legs are that much longer, and you fell on your ass.

Your mother twists your arm, hard. She says, "When you screw up they won't ask us back and maybe they won't pay us. You can be replaced."

Brian's face is right up next to yours. But he's not in your face, he's in your mother's. He says, "We won't replace Nick ever."

Brian always says "ma'am" to your mom. You think he doesn't this time because she's still holding your arm. It hurts. It hurts that Brian is never ever anything less than polite to everyone, but he was just rude to your mom.

Kevin pulls at your other arm and your mom lets go. She's glaring at you, like you deserve. You don't rub where she grabbed you because you're lucky to have someone who cares so much that you succeed.

Something in you says you're not so lucky.

Kevin says, "Aren't you guys hungry?" He pulls you towards AJ, Howie and Brian. Kevin says to your mom, "We'll take good care of him, don't you worry." He smiles, false and angry. You don't understand.

Your mom shakes her head and says, "Fine." Angry, too. "Bring him home on time."

Howie straightens your jacket, AJ rolls his eyes and winks and Brian grins his stupid smile. Kevin says, "The five of us, no more replacements."

One of five, something in you says. Maybe you're lucky in a different way than you thought. When you look back, your mom is gone, and you rub your arm where it hurts.