Sitting to the left of me was Ramiele Malubay, which was cool because she also ended up getting to the Top 10. To my right was Amanda Overmyer, who also made it to the Top 12. She was kind of a rocker/biker girl and she really cracked me up. She was so cavalier, just sitting there reading her book. "You're a lil' sweetheart!" she said to me. I got a huge kick out of her, and she definitely made the waiting process that much more endurable.

We had been told to pick and learn one song from a list that we were given a few weeks earlier, and to figure out what key we were going to sing in. We decided at home to have a few songs ready, and even one that I could play on piano which I really didn't want to do but I finally agreed to at least learn it just in case. At first I chose "(Everything I Do) I Do it for You"; then it struck me that a lot of other people were singing it, so I thought I'd change my strategy. I had actually worked out an arrangement for it on the piano after a lot of prodding from my dad, and as I wanted something more interesting for the moment of truth, I went with "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley and decided to play it on piano despite how nervous I was about playing while I sang. This was a whole new thing for the show, because it was the first season in which singers were allowed to play instruments, which to me instantly raised the bar. I practiced the whole night before on a little rollout keyboard that I'd brought with me. We had a brief rehearsal with the vocal coaches and piano accompanists, and most of the people singing "Crazy" were just doing it with the accompanist. A few others sang it while playing the guitar and I was the only one accompanying myself at the piano.

On the first day, which was a Tuesday, everyone was to sing what they had practiced from the list, and if you made it past that round you automatically got to skip the next round on Wednesday-they called it a "free pa.s.s." If you didn't pa.s.s, you'd get a second chance on Wednesday to sing just fifteen to twenty seconds of a song. Although I was excited about the whole idea of performing solo in front of the judges, I was so nervous about playing the piano while singing that I had to have a quick little prayer to help me remain calm. Well, it worked!! Thankfully, I was spared because I made it through on the first day when I sang "Crazy." Appropriately enough, the whole thing was beyond crazy. I remember thinking that Simon was going to say it was terrible, because just like the first time, I messed up the words and I didn't think they would tolerate that kind of sloppiness at this point in the audition process.

But instead, Simon said: "I think. . .that was incredible!" When I heard those words come out of Simon's lips, of course my heart leaped. I didn't know what to do with myself. I just stood there with sweaty palms and my heart racing probably faster than I have ever felt it race. I felt cold and hot at the same time, and my entire body started to tingle. I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating or if what had just come out of Simon's mouth was actually real. I didn't even know if what had come out of my mouth when I sang had been any good or not. But when I saw Paula, Randy and Simon all looking at me with smiles on their faces, I knew I had to say something.

"What??? . . . Oh . . ." That was my brilliant response. I couldn't believe it had gone that well; I wasn't expecting them to even like it. What I do know for sure is that when I sang that song, my heart was 100 percent into it. I guess that came across because they all said it was one of the best male vocals they had heard all day. This was an important moment for me, not just for the obvious reasons, but also because their unexpectedly positive reactions gave me the push of confidence that I would need to move any farther along. I could step up to whatever challenge was coming with the knowledge that these people liked what they heard. That was definitely enough to get me started.

The look on my face here says it all: happy and excited all at once.

But I didn't want get too ahead of myself, and tried to just see that moment for what it was: a baby step of progress. Not toward the goal of being on the show necessarily, but for the sake of my ability to start believing in any positive feedback that I would get. I stayed on course with the decision of not telling anyone and just kept looking forward.

For the next round on Thursday, there was a giant list of songs that we could choose from. We couldn't just sing whatever we wanted because of licensing issues; we could only sing songs that were cleared by the show. I picked "Heaven" by Bryan Adams. I remember rehearsing with the musical directors, Debra Byrd and Michael Orland, which was also when we finally started singing with the band. Everything was starting to feel more official, more serious. I'm sure all the contestants could feel this professional shift in the way things were being handled, and we all tried our best to step it up. There was a very synergistic vibe in the air. Everyone was so excited, and clearly inspired by the amazing singing we were getting to hear from one another. There was so much raw talent on that stage, so many different voices and styles. It was beyond awesome.

The three days gave us the chance to start mingling, too. I remember meeting Michael Johns, and for the first time seeing David Cook perform. I also got to meet Brooke White, who was in the Top 5, and I clicked with her instantly. It was so nice to be able to make a friend with similar background and values to share this experience with. But at the end of each of those days, I came back to the hotel where we were all staying and practiced my songs or the piano. I was happy to be meeting other people but I didn't want to get too distracted.

During these days, we also had lots of interviews with more producers and executives. By now we were also being filmed, and having the camera on me was by far one of the most difficult things to get used to. I don't have to remind you of my shyness, so imagine me trying to not come across like Mr. Awkward every time we had to film an interview. I had to work really hard to keep myself together, which I did by acting like I didn't care that a camera was up in my face. Fake it until you make it, right? In time it would get easier to do, but those first few interviews were especially intimidating and worse than a total nightmare.

After I sang in the third round, Simon said he didn't like "Heaven" as much as he had liked "Crazy," but that it was still good. He seemed pleased (well, as pleased as Simon ever gets); and the rest of the judges gave positive comments, too. Once again, against everything that I thought was going to happen, I pa.s.sed. I was now one of fifty people in the running to be on the show.

The Green Mile would make up an entire episode of the show, and took place in the same location as Hollywood Week. Only this time, none of us would sing. There would only be more interviews and then finally the selection announcements. We all sat in a waiting room wondering what the heck was going on. People were there with their families, so it was a pretty emotionally charged scene. There were lots of tears-both of sadness and joy. Every time someone came back after being called in, the look on his or her face would tell us what the decision had been.

. . . having the camera on me was by far one of the most difficult things to get used to.

I wish I could tell you that I remember how I felt or what the judges' exact words were when they told me that I was one of the ones selected. I had prepared myself so much to be told no that I had no idea what to do with the news that I had actually made it. The tingles came back again, and this time they were all over my face. Now I felt my heart beating in every part of me. So many thoughts ran through my brain: Would I have to leave school? Would my family really be cool with this? What would it be like to be one of the youngest people on the show?

When I came back out to the waiting room to tell my dad and aunt the amazing news, all I remember is that there was a camera in my face and people were screaming. It was such a crazy commotion that the details are just fuzzy to me. I'm sure we all hugged and went bonkers together for a moment, but it's really all kind of a blur.

I just wanted to sing.

Once the full Top 24 were announced, there was a huge celebration with us all dancing and rejoicing in the fact that we had come this far. It was a great opportunity to get to know the people who we'd be spending the next chapter of our lives with, and now it really felt like we were on the brink of a serious journey.

Even though I was in the Top 24, I still didn't think I had the slightest chance to win and just kept trying to forget the fact that I was part of a contest. You see, I didn't really want to compete-I just wanted to sing.

CHAPTER 6.

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.

"If you play music with pa.s.sion and love and honesty, then it will nourish your soul, heal your wounds and make your life worth living. Music is its own reward."

-STING.

My experience on the show would be slightly different from those of the contestants who weren't minors. For one thing, my dad would be there with me as my legal guardian while the show was putting us up, and I would also while the show was putting us up, and I would also have to go to three hours of school every day.

I imagined that I'd be back in school in no time and felt that I should do everything in my power to stay caught up. I didn't even say good-bye to anyone at school that January because I was sure I'd be seeing them all again real soon.

But my high school princ.i.p.al said that even though everyone at school was really excited for me, I had to withdraw because my district had very particular rules about attendance. I'm sure many kids would have been thrilled to withdraw from high school, but I felt terrible about it. I've always taken school and grades very seriously, and having to make this choice was bigger and scarier than deciding to quit my summer job. This was high school we were talking about. It was scary enough to be part of the compet.i.tion to begin with; but the prospect of failing in that context and failing school just seemed like too dark a place to end up. Other young contestants who had been on the show were able to get work sent to them. But my school district was more strict, and this just wasn't an option for me. They wouldn't make an exception. I was told that I wouldn't be able to finish my junior year-at least not with the rest of my cla.s.s. I tried to take online cla.s.ses, like other minors had in previous seasons, but I just couldn't concentrate. It wasn't for me.

All of the kids under eighteen were a.s.signed a studio teacher once we were in the Top 24 and had begun working on the live shows. My teacher and I would work together for a few hours each day, and luckily during the Top 24, there were other minors who were in the same boat as me, so at least in the beginning I wasn't alone. I became really close to them because we had similar schedules, which was a nice way to start out the season; but at the same time it made it that much more sad for me to see them go when they did. Even when I went to regular school, it had taken a lot of effort for me to get good grades; now, as I juggled the compet.i.tion with trying to be a student, it sometimes felt impossible. I couldn't even focus, let alone absorb a lot of what was being taught to me. Often, my mind was just somewhere else.

And even though I had the studio teacher, and as excited as I was about the Idol Idol experience, the reality that I had to officially withdraw from high school definitely felt like a small crisis. You have to understand that one of the reasons grades have always been really important to me is that as much as I loved music and hoped I could have a future in music, I never counted on music to work out for me as a life path. I just always thought I'd need some kind of plan B. Good grades would give me the chance to make solid choices about college and could open the door to having a worthwhile career. The idea of risking this almost felt like a mistake. But I guess that was how I learned that sometimes you have to take a risk when there's an opportunity right under your nose. No matter how hard things seemed to get, it also began to get clearer and clearer that there would be no turning back. Once you're in the show, you're in the show, and I wasn't about to walk away from that. Quitting would have equaled failure; so giving up was never an option, the same way it hadn't been an option to give up at the Utah talent show a few years back. experience, the reality that I had to officially withdraw from high school definitely felt like a small crisis. You have to understand that one of the reasons grades have always been really important to me is that as much as I loved music and hoped I could have a future in music, I never counted on music to work out for me as a life path. I just always thought I'd need some kind of plan B. Good grades would give me the chance to make solid choices about college and could open the door to having a worthwhile career. The idea of risking this almost felt like a mistake. But I guess that was how I learned that sometimes you have to take a risk when there's an opportunity right under your nose. No matter how hard things seemed to get, it also began to get clearer and clearer that there would be no turning back. Once you're in the show, you're in the show, and I wasn't about to walk away from that. Quitting would have equaled failure; so giving up was never an option, the same way it hadn't been an option to give up at the Utah talent show a few years back.

At some point, it just hit me that music should be my focus, no matter how things turned out. Yes, school was important, and yes, I was taking a major risk, but I tried to reach back to that moment I had knelt by my bed and talked to G.o.d and remember that I was here for a reason. I started working on songs twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week (except for the three hours a day of school and a little sleep once in a while). On American Idol American Idol, that wasn't too shabby. I would say to myself, "David, remember that this is a good thing-the opportunity may have come a bit sooner than expected, but here it is nonetheless. Take it. Run with it. This is my dream coming true." My parents were, of course, delighted and excited, but they didn't want to get ahead of themselves either, and tried to follow my lead on staying calm. They would be a tremendous support system for me, and I know I wouldn't have been able to get through some of the hardest moments without my dad's on-site wisdom and support, and the comforting sound of my mom's voice on the phone.

My poor brother and sisters were really the ones who had to put up with the most, because by now everyone at school knew that "David Archuleta" was their brother. They were constantly approached as "David's brother or sister" and sort of lost their own ident.i.ties, which made it a rough time for them. They just wanted to be themselves and have their s.p.a.ce. Nothing in their lives had really changed; yet they were being hit with the Idol Idol mania on a daily basis just because they were my family. They wanted privacy, and out of nowhere they were tossed into the madness with me. Only I got to live tucked away in L.A., but they had the burden of showing up at school every day to face everyone's comments. I mean, how many times in one day can a person hear "You're David's brother?" I felt bad for them but knew they would be fine once mania on a daily basis just because they were my family. They wanted privacy, and out of nowhere they were tossed into the madness with me. Only I got to live tucked away in L.A., but they had the burden of showing up at school every day to face everyone's comments. I mean, how many times in one day can a person hear "You're David's brother?" I felt bad for them but knew they would be fine once Idol Idol mania died down. mania died down.

the reality that I had to officially withdraw from high school definitely felt like a small crisis.

No amount of mental preparation could have possibly primed me for the fact that for the next five months, I would be living in L.A. to learn, rehea.r.s.e and ultimately sing a total of nineteen songs live on American Idol American Idol alongside a bunch of older (and way more experienced) singers, the whole time camped out in an apartment with my father and doing all my schoolwork with a studio teacher, Wendy, instead of actually going to high school. As exciting as it all was, my life felt like it was someone else's. In my mind's eye, I would look down at myself like a fly on the wall of my own experience; and each time I had to really shake myself to realize that it was all actually happening to me. alongside a bunch of older (and way more experienced) singers, the whole time camped out in an apartment with my father and doing all my schoolwork with a studio teacher, Wendy, instead of actually going to high school. As exciting as it all was, my life felt like it was someone else's. In my mind's eye, I would look down at myself like a fly on the wall of my own experience; and each time I had to really shake myself to realize that it was all actually happening to me.

Think about it: From the moment I was announced as one of the Top 24, I went from being just David to David-Archuleta-on-American-Idol . It felt like such a ma.s.sive responsibility. All of a sudden people expected me not only to perform, but also to continually outdo myself. Not only would I be up against so many other amazing talents, but also I had to surpa.s.s the bar that I would set for myself each week. We were now in a compet.i.tion that included individual progress as one of the key variables to win. Even though I was stoked about being on the show, I also thought that I was the worst person there. Every week, I a.s.sumed that I was going to be the next one sent home. I honestly didn't think there was anything special about me. Those few months would be full of equal parts joy and stress, and there were many moments when I didn't know if I would be able to handle another minute. Keep in mind that overnight I went from being a regular high school kid (a position I worked hard to get after being a . It felt like such a ma.s.sive responsibility. All of a sudden people expected me not only to perform, but also to continually outdo myself. Not only would I be up against so many other amazing talents, but also I had to surpa.s.s the bar that I would set for myself each week. We were now in a compet.i.tion that included individual progress as one of the key variables to win. Even though I was stoked about being on the show, I also thought that I was the worst person there. Every week, I a.s.sumed that I was going to be the next one sent home. I honestly didn't think there was anything special about me. Those few months would be full of equal parts joy and stress, and there were many moments when I didn't know if I would be able to handle another minute. Keep in mind that overnight I went from being a regular high school kid (a position I worked hard to get after being a Star Search Star Search kid) to being on the biggest show on TV. Remember that I was for the most part shy and quiet, and all of this new exposure was kind of mortifying. From one day to the next, I had thrown myself into the lion's den, exposing myself to the world, setting myself up for who knows what kind of disasters. The very thought of being on live television every week was incredibly stressful for all of us. No one (except for Jason Castro!) was ever relaxed. I know I constantly had that tense feeling in my shoulders. I'm not saying it wasn't fun; but it was a lot of work and every day felt like a series of hurdles to get past with next to no time. But at one point I told myself that no matter how nerve-racking the whole thing was, it would be more productive to enjoy it, rather than suffer in anxiety the whole time. kid) to being on the biggest show on TV. Remember that I was for the most part shy and quiet, and all of this new exposure was kind of mortifying. From one day to the next, I had thrown myself into the lion's den, exposing myself to the world, setting myself up for who knows what kind of disasters. The very thought of being on live television every week was incredibly stressful for all of us. No one (except for Jason Castro!) was ever relaxed. I know I constantly had that tense feeling in my shoulders. I'm not saying it wasn't fun; but it was a lot of work and every day felt like a series of hurdles to get past with next to no time. But at one point I told myself that no matter how nerve-racking the whole thing was, it would be more productive to enjoy it, rather than suffer in anxiety the whole time.

Every week I had to pick the right song, work on its arrangement, practice, and try to keep up with studio school as much as possible. Throughout all of those months, it seemed like we oftentimes didn't even have enough time to prepare for that week's music, and the various random tasks that got added to our already crazy schedules made it very difficult to juggle everything. Every night we would receive a text message giving us the next day's itinerary. Most days started as early as five or six in the morning, and wouldn't end until ten or eleven at night. I would typically wake up, rehea.r.s.e, shower and then leave for the studio, where I would spend a few hours in school. Sundays usually meant a full day of shooting music videos, from morning to night. On top of rehearsing and filming the video, which usually went late into the evening, we would find a CD under our door upon arriving home that we had to rehea.r.s.e for our iTunes recording session the next morning. Again, because I would have school, I usually had to go first which means I had very little time to rehea.r.s.e and prepare my song. After recording on Monday, I would rehea.r.s.e my song with the band and do a rough sound check. That was my chance to tell the band what I wanted the song to sound like, which could be really stressful due to there being only one hour to try to make sure everything was just right. It was a challenge for me to know how to explain everything I was hoping to be in the song in the proper music language so the band could understand what I meant, but it was a good opportunity for me to learn a lot about communicating on a musical and verbal level. After that rehearsal, most people got to take a load off and have a rest, but of course I'd still have to go back to school.

On non-show days, mixed in with a few hours with my studio teacher, I would get pulled out to rehea.r.s.e my song again with the show's musical directors. Some days we also had photo shoots, or promotional appearances, or had to film more interviews for the show. We were always doing something.

On Tuesdays, the morning of the show, we would work with the production crew to rehea.r.s.e onstage for the actual performance. There were always tons of cameras around the singers onstage, and the musical directors and stage manager would also give us tips on where to look, and how to angle our bodies. Everyone always had something to say-that's for sure.

Tuesdays were also when we would rehea.r.s.e the group numbers that we'd perform on the Wednesday results shows, which was the last thing anyone ever wanted to do. We had enough on our own plates without also having to think about group numbers with the people we were competing against. But once Tuesday afternoons were over and done with, I would feel a huge sense of relief. By then, the song was chosen, arranged, rehea.r.s.ed, and that was it. There was nothing more you could do at that point but wait for the live show to start, and then when it's your turn to give it your best shot and go for it! After the show, we would usually go over to a restaurant with our family who was usually there for the live show or whatever friends might be there for a bite to eat and to try to relax a little bit. It was the closest thing to down time we had the entire week.

That quick breath of relief was short-lived, though, because Wednesday was just as packed as every other day, with dress rehearsals for the results show, especially the dreaded group numbers. In addition to those rehearsals, interviews and, in my case, school, some weeks you also had to start thinking about your song for the following week. On Wednesday or Thursday morning, we'd be given the list of songs to choose from, and by a certain time they would give us, we would have to pick three possibilities off the list. And we had to be sure about them, because once we submitted our choices, we were committed to performing one of the three. I didn't even know a lot of the songs, sometimes I had to sacrifice school time to meet the deadlines they gave us and research various renditions so I could figure out what my own take would be. Thankfully, Wendy was very understanding and would let me take whatever time I needed to meet my deadlines. She understood that my main reason to be there was to do as well as I could each week and she made sure she gave me as much flexibility as possible to keep up with everything.

On the Wednesday show, someone would get voted off, of course, and that person would have to fly out the next morning to do a week of press. So after the show, we always had a farewell dinner as a group. It was bittersweet, because even though it was nice to spend time together, the good-bye factor made it kind of tough. It was really fun though because we actually did a roast of the person who was leaving and they had a chance to say something about all of us too so it was sad but very fun and memorable. If you're going to get voted off, at least this helped soften the blow quite a bit.

Sometime between Thursday and Sunday, we'd go shopping for outfits for the upcoming week. There was a stylist who would help us, but we mostly were able to choose what we felt comfortable in. By this point in the week, we would also have narrowed down our list of three songs to one, and spent a lot of time working on the arrangement and rehearsing. If you couldn't decide which of the three songs you wanted to do, the musical directors would help you figure out the best choice. Even then sometimes you'd pick a song only to find out that you couldn't sing it after all (whether it wasn't right for your pitch or simply a bad song choice to begin with), so you'd have to go back to the drawing board and pick another one.

Even with the nightly text message, you never knew exactly how each day would play out. You had to be ready for anything, and the one thing you knew for sure was that your life was completely dedicated to the show. It didn't matter what the schedule was, you had to do whatever they said and be wherever they wanted you. There was not much wiggle room for anything, and because we were all committed, we just played along and did what we were told.

A lot of the time while I was at "school," my dad would start working on the arrangements; then we'd talk about them and figure out which song had the best potential. I'd learn them, and together we'd try to figure out how to make the performances interesting. The challenge each week was to find ways to build unique and special moments into each song. We would ask ourselves, "Are there any obvious places we can build in a special moment at a certain point in the song? Is there something that we should change?" We were always on the hunt for those moments. I knew that I needed to do something a little bit different to each song, even if that meant just holding a note out a tiny bit longer or changing the melody slightly. I remembered his insights from when I was younger, and knew that he was right now more than ever. I had to make the music somehow unique if I wanted to stand out. Even though I would always rehea.r.s.e, my mission for each show was to sound spontaneous and in the moment. I was lucky to have my father by my side because our musical intuition is very similar, which I think made it easy to speak the same language when it came to working on the arrangements.

Looking back, I think I felt the freest at the beginning of the compet.i.tion because at that point even if people did have expectations of me, they couldn't have been that high. Ironically, the moment the positive feedback started is when the fear of failure really set in, because I knew that people would always want me to do better than the last time. For Seventies Week on the second live show, I sang "Imagine," and even though everyone loved it, I felt that I sort of set myself up for disaster. I didn't even know what I had done to receive such a good response, so I didn't think there was a way for me to be able to repeat it, never mind outdo it. Now everyone had this image of me that I would have to uphold. After "Imagine," no one even remembered that I had sung "Shop Around" the first week, which was a fun, up-tempo song that is generally a crowd-pleaser. But each week was a completely unique experience, sixties, seventies, eighties, Beatles, whatever style or genre we were a.s.signed, it was always a fun challenge to find a song from the list that I felt I could make my own. Some weeks were easier than others, but in the end, each one had some interesting lesson to impart.

Still, though, there was always some kind of curveball. For example, two days after I sang my first rendition of "Imagine" during the second week, I felt like I was getting hit with another cold and my voice just quit working. I just couldn't get anything out. It was really stressful, because I knew I wouldn't be able to deliver without full use of my voice. I was pretty sure I was simply coming down with something, but to be safe I consulted Dr. Na.s.sir, the same specialist who had given me the vocal paralysis diagnosis years back when I was on Star Search Star Search. He was happy to help like always, and he said he couldn't believe that I was still able to sing. After scoping my throat again, he pulled up the pics of my cords from now and before when he originally scoped them. They looked totally different from each other, which was really scary. He explained that I still had a paralyzed vocal cord, but that my cords had found a way to work around the condition because by some miracle, they were vibrating despite what medically wasn't supposed to be able to happen. Despite this physical abnormality, I was able to get the songs out. The one vocal cord, it seemed, had actually grown up over and around the weak one in order to adjust for the other one not working. So in the end, it really was just a winter cold or something this time; and I'm pretty sure lack of sleep didn't help either. It was only the beginning and I was already feeling worn out. But I got through it by resting my voice whenever I wasn't rehearsing and just had faith that whatever was meant to be would be.

So that week was Eighties Week, and I decided to sing "Another Day in Paradise." It wasn't the strongest song for me, but I kind of felt I needed to play it a little safe with my voice feeling so weak. This was also an opportunity to play the piano, even though I didn't have a lot of time to practice because I was originally going to sing "Every Breath You Take" and changed my mind at the last moment. I started to feel that the lyrics to "Every Breath" were a little too . . . um . . . stalkerish. My friends actually used to call it the stalker song, so I wanted to make sure that my song choices would reflect my character and values as genuinely as possible, and felt that "Another Day in Paradise" was more attuned to who I am. That song isn't necessarily a "singer's song" and is not really upbeat or happy, but it's about real life and serious issues, such as poverty and the idea of not taking anyone for granted. Playing the piano was an opportunity to also show that I was a rounded performer, someone who could connect to every part of the song, not just hold a note or handle a long vibrato. It was so gratifying to be able to play the piano live in front of so many people after years of feeling like I wasn't any good. I was starting to understand the piano as an extension of my performance, a tool that could help me relay the emotion of a song, and another incredible way for me to express myself musically. I was finally starting to feel more confident with myself as a musical person.

But it certainly wasn't easy. Every time I sang, I expected to get ripped apart by Simon. It became a running joke with some of my fellow contestants, who were all well aware of my self-image issues. But as I saw it, this self-doubt was a way of being honest with myself, of keeping myself in check. In fact, I didn't see it as a bad thing. I was harder on myself than the judges ever were. I thought I'd be lucky if there was one person out there watching me on TV who might be affected in some tiny way by my singing. If I could accomplish only that, I've succeeded. But I didn't think I was really what the judges were looking for. I thought they were looking for "real" singers. Actually, I thought they were looking for stars. And that wasn't me.

Playing piano has brought me to a whole new level of musicianship.

Anytime I got positive feedback from the judges I was surprised. I had a hard time understanding what they heard in me. I thought, Why are they so impressed? I didn't get it. And instead of being happy when I did receive positive feedback, I would see it as some kind of burden: Now they have even more expectations of me, I would think, and next week they're going to be disappointed if I don't deliver. I'd get worried thinking that people would want whatever happened before to happen again and, honestly, a lot of the time I didn't even know what had happened in the first place! I didn't have a formula, and I didn't have a plan I could duplicate each week. I'd just hope I had picked a good song that America and the judges would like, go up there, open my mouth and hope for the best.

On certain occasions, it seemed that maybe the judges were actually feeling what I felt when I sang, and that maybe their positive reactions were a reflection of those emotions. I started to think about what it was that was giving me the courage to get up there each time, curious about how someone as naturally introverted as myself could make it through a grueling process such as this one. The answer that came to me was a lot simpler than I'd imagined: From the moment I'd start to sing (onstage or in a rehearsal), I would just allow myself to flow. I'd almost forget where I was. Whatever I was thinking about before would disappear and in its place would come only thoughts about the song. This let me pour my heart out into each song and connect to its feeling, whether I had gone through something like that or not. Thankfully, I've always been emotionally affected by music, and I think it's what has always helped me tap into the feeling that would guide each song. The music itself would always lead the way for me, its power stamping out the fear and killing the doubt. The music was the thing that saved me each time. After a while it started to feel like living in some sort of protected bubble. Everything was taken care of for us; we didn't have to decide what to do each day, much less cook, clean or do laundry, so all we had to focus on was singing our best. We weren't supposed to go out by ourselves because we needed security with us at all times. When we had to go somewhere, we would move in specially designated vans, and for the most part we traveled together everywhere we went. The other contestants were my family for half a year. We pretty much spent all of our time together, forever sitting in the same rooms together waiting for things to happen. The only people we could relate to were one another, and the only zone of comfort we knew was this new little world that we had created together.

I spent all of my time between my hotel, the room where I studied and the studio. That's it. I got so pale because I never saw sun. I started to forget what "normal life" felt like, and sometimes even got scared that I wouldn't know how to readapt when it was time to go back. I became very close with my studio teacher because she was one of the only people (other than my fellow compet.i.tors and my dad) I saw regularly. She became an all-purpose friend and counselor-teaching, supporting and listening to me. She was totally objective and had no agenda other than my well-being. I made a concerted effort to stay off the Internet as much as possible, because the people from Idol Idol recommended it, and I didn't feel it was important to know what people were thinking about me. I knew how the show worked, and having been an eager fan of it myself, I knew the Web was teeming with chatter about this or that singer. I was afraid of what I would see. I honestly didn't want to know what people thought of us. I knew that if I looked, I could easily run the risk of getting upset about it, which would only make me go backward emotionally. I had to stay focused on staying positive. I did that by staying close to G.o.d and to my beliefs. But trying to be a normal teenager definitely started to feel a bit surreal. The closer we got to the finals, the more text messages I started to receive from the most random people in the world. Messages from people who I had seen my whole life but who never even noticed that I existed before they saw me on TV. My phone was always flickering and ringing to the point that I just had to ignore it. I was overwhelmed with everything else going on; the last thing I could think of was how to explain my new reputation to friends (and strangers!) whom I hadn't even told I would be here to begin with. recommended it, and I didn't feel it was important to know what people were thinking about me. I knew how the show worked, and having been an eager fan of it myself, I knew the Web was teeming with chatter about this or that singer. I was afraid of what I would see. I honestly didn't want to know what people thought of us. I knew that if I looked, I could easily run the risk of getting upset about it, which would only make me go backward emotionally. I had to stay focused on staying positive. I did that by staying close to G.o.d and to my beliefs. But trying to be a normal teenager definitely started to feel a bit surreal. The closer we got to the finals, the more text messages I started to receive from the most random people in the world. Messages from people who I had seen my whole life but who never even noticed that I existed before they saw me on TV. My phone was always flickering and ringing to the point that I just had to ignore it. I was overwhelmed with everything else going on; the last thing I could think of was how to explain my new reputation to friends (and strangers!) whom I hadn't even told I would be here to begin with.

I knew that all of the messages were coming from a good place and more than anything people just wanted to show love and support, but honestly, it was too much, and too fast for me to feel comfortable with it. The entire framework of my social life changed radically in a matter of weeks. That just felt weird. As we got further into it, the only people I could really relate to were the people in the compet.i.tion, because they knew exactly what I was going through. We were all going through it together: the self-doubt, the self-image issues, and the fear of never really knowing if you're good enough to keep going. For five months, these were the kinds of things that we woke up thinking about, and also the feelings that we'd inevitably go to bed thinking about. Once we made it to the Top 12, we moved out of the hotel and into an apartment. Our roommate for the first couple of weeks was Chikezie who was an all around great guy! My dad and I had to share a room at first, but after Chikezie was voted off in week 10, we each were able to have our own room, which was good for us both to have at least one spot where we could have some privacy.

Getting into the Top 12 was a big milestone, and I began to feel the stress of the quickly progressing season. That week was the most difficult one of the whole season because of everything that had to happen: photo shoots, interviews, iTunes versions of our songs, arrangements that turned out different from we had expected, the Ford commercials, school, rehearsals. I felt like I was completely overwhelmed. Plus all of the other minor kids were now gone so it was just me in school, no one else to share that with. We had helped support one another for those first few weeks so it was difficult when I was the last one there.

As a result of all the hectic events of that week, a new stage, me going last and having to remember to walk downstairs while I was singing, in a moment of panic, I completely forgot the words to "We Can Work It Out." Nightmare City! But you know what? I totally surprised myself and didn't get upset. Instead, I thought, Okay, David, what's done is done. Maybe you can learn something from this. Sometimes a little b.u.mp like this makes you stronger. I was actually proud of myself for being able to take the criticism, including Simon calling it "a mess." This was after the previous week when he'd said my performance was "a little boring." Given how insecure I was, you might think this would have torn me apart. But I think because of my self-doubt, I was able to stay open to whatever the judges had to say. I never took their comments personally and always tried to look for the helpful lesson in their critique. Their criticism didn't bother me at all. Instead, it motivated me to do better because it gave me a point of reference. I was thankful for the honesty of such an experienced group of people after so many years of hearing from friends and family that I "had talent." I was hungry to hear the advice of someone who would be willing to go deeper with me; and the Idol Idol judges always came through that way. I wasn't there for pats on the back-I was there to evolve. It gave the whole experience professionalism and kept the standards of the music high. judges always came through that way. I wasn't there for pats on the back-I was there to evolve. It gave the whole experience professionalism and kept the standards of the music high.

The Top 12!

But I was living a funny little paradox: On the one hand, I was part of a serious compet.i.tion, which we realistically know implies "winning" as an objective. But on the other hand, I also knew that my own motivation had absolutely nothing to do with winning. I was there because I felt deeply that I had been handed a blessing, and to ignore that blessing would be wrong. The longer I stayed in the compet.i.tion, the stronger this feeling got, and I accepted the idea that I was actually supposed to be there. I kept telling myself, "If I am still here, there must be a good reason, even if it's a reason that I can't clearly understand." But I constantly found myself trying to come to terms with the whole "pressure to win" versus enjoying the experience itself. Because for me, it was just that-an experience-a moment in my life that I'd always be able to look back on with pride, knowing that I gave it my all and worked as hard as I could.

Each time I found myself second-guessing myself or questioning my singing, I would tell myself to work that much harder. It was on me to show the judges and fans just how much I love music, to show them how songs could be magical and reach out and make people feel certain sensations and inspirations. Every day I reminded myself that this was my goal, and at each moment of the contest, I would try to look for little ways to make myself stand out more and more. Not so that I could win-but so that I could fully express my pa.s.sion for music. Around this time, we also partic.i.p.ated in a charity event called Idol Idol Gives Back, which was a whole other show on top of everything else that we were doing. Everything else that normally went on continued as usual, but we had this extra show to also think about, which was so much more work. It was for a good cause, so we were happy to do it, but it was an insane week. It included appearances by people like Gloria Estefan, Mariah Carey, Sarah Silverman, Reese Witherspoon, Annie Lennox, Alicia Keys, Celine Dion, Snoop Dogg, Bono, and Fergie, to name a few. So despite the extra workload, we were all pretty thrilled to be able to partic.i.p.ate. But there were many other things about being there that were not so easy to handle. Here's an incident that always comes to mind: On the results show of Top 7 week, we were split into two groups. In one group they put Syesha Mercado, Brooke White, and Kristy Lee Cook. The other group was Carly Smithson, David Cook, and Jason Castro. The producers decided it would be interesting to announce that I was safe and ask me which group I thought I belonged to. I have to admit, this didn't sit well with me. I hated the idea of having to pick groups, so I protested by not going to either side; instead, I sat down right in the middle of the stage, which people may have thought was cute and all, but it was really just my way of doing what I thought was right. Everyone seemed to think it was funny, but the honest truth is that I wasn't about to try to make a choice between my fellow Gives Back, which was a whole other show on top of everything else that we were doing. Everything else that normally went on continued as usual, but we had this extra show to also think about, which was so much more work. It was for a good cause, so we were happy to do it, but it was an insane week. It included appearances by people like Gloria Estefan, Mariah Carey, Sarah Silverman, Reese Witherspoon, Annie Lennox, Alicia Keys, Celine Dion, Snoop Dogg, Bono, and Fergie, to name a few. So despite the extra workload, we were all pretty thrilled to be able to partic.i.p.ate. But there were many other things about being there that were not so easy to handle. Here's an incident that always comes to mind: On the results show of Top 7 week, we were split into two groups. In one group they put Syesha Mercado, Brooke White, and Kristy Lee Cook. The other group was Carly Smithson, David Cook, and Jason Castro. The producers decided it would be interesting to announce that I was safe and ask me which group I thought I belonged to. I have to admit, this didn't sit well with me. I hated the idea of having to pick groups, so I protested by not going to either side; instead, I sat down right in the middle of the stage, which people may have thought was cute and all, but it was really just my way of doing what I thought was right. Everyone seemed to think it was funny, but the honest truth is that I wasn't about to try to make a choice between my fellow Idol Idol family. Paula was even signaling with her hand for me to sit down, so I thought I did the right thing and felt weird that they would put me in that position. family. Paula was even signaling with her hand for me to sit down, so I thought I did the right thing and felt weird that they would put me in that position.

trying to be a normal teenager definitely started to feel a bit surreal.

You'd think that by this point I would have become a lot more confident and carefree onstage, but truthfully, the closer we got to the end, the less sure of myself I felt. There was so much emotion surrounding these last few shows that between the crazy schedules and the levels of hysteria in the air, many times I didn't know how I could possibly juggle it all.

The whole fame thing was tricky, too. Remember, I was in a bubble for five months straight, pretty much living in the apartment and at the FOX studio, where my life was all about arranging, rehearsing, school and everything Idol Idol. So you can imagine how weird it was to fly back home to Utah during Top 3 week, only to see that the entire city had come out to greet me like one gigantic family waiting for a long-lost son. I figured I had "fans," since I kept getting voted through, but it seemed more theoretical than anything. Seeing the crowds in person, I was blown away. Words honestly can't even begin to describe how grateful and flattered I felt at the citywide welcome that I received. There was a huge celebration and swarms of people, total strangers really, who'd made a special effort to show their support. I couldn't believe how many people came out to see me, how much they appreciated what I was doing, and how happy they were for me. I could really see the pride in their eyes. I had left Utah as a scared kid with a bundle of nerves and no real sense of direction, and now here I was back home to what felt like total jubilation! I didn't know how to wrap my head around it, let alone how to respond to the crowds. I tried to be sweet and positive and to always show my grat.i.tude for everyone's love and support. But because I'm a total introvert, it was a lot more challenging than people might think.

I could see now that my journey was as exciting to the fans as it was for me, and that even through some of my worst moments of insecurity, they had not once turned their backs on me. My fans were not simply fans; but instead a group of people who, for some reason or another, decided to unconditionally believe in me.

I soon discovered that these fans were calling themselves "Archies" or "Arch Angels," which struck me as incredibly funny, but also sweet. The fact that they had gone so far as to call themselves anything at all was flattering. Their enthusiasm for my singing would feed me with a new brand of confidence, and I can safely say that their appreciation for what I was doing is what kept me working so hard.

Of course, it was great to see the rest of my family and although the first night home I had to stay in a hotel in my own hometown, I did get to spend a few hours at home with them in between the events of the day. A lot of my relatives and friends showed up at home as well and they all showed how incredibly proud of me they were. Just the chance to be home and reconnect with everyone felt amazing. After the nonstop craziness of being on the show, it was so nice to just know I was there with my little sisters with their drawing and anime obsessions, Claudia always just being there for me and my brother just being his usual "cool" self. After being pretty much quarantined for so long under the pressure that comes with the show, I was so thankful for the time at home with the people that I loved most. It was truly a breath of fresh air. I realized how much I missed the little things in life, like waking up to have breakfast with my family, or flipping on the TV and watching some program with my sisters for some mindless entertainment, or just going out in the yard and watching the leaves move in the wind. Every day in Los Angeles was completely nuts, so the peace of being home was, as they say, just what the doctor ordered-especially now that we were really coming down to the wire.

During that Utah visit, a Mississippi woman gave me a hundred-page book she had made for me. On the cover it said, "David Is My Hero," and inside were all kinds of comments and stories from fans who had been moved by my performances. I couldn't believe that someone would take the time to put something like this together, with so much care and such attention to detail. Some celebrities might be put off by this kind of thing, maybe seeing it as a bit over-the-top. To me, however, it was a gesture of total sweetness, pure love and support. I was grateful that someone would spend even three seconds thinking about (never mind archiving) my accomplishments. I began to understand that I was somehow sharing my newfound recognition with the people who were most affected by my singing, which to me made perfect sense. It was clear that I sang for them just as much as I sang for myself, so it was fitting that we were now sharing it all together.

Life had changed so drastically since I'd left, and sometimes it felt impossible to digest it all. Things were moving so quickly and unexpectedly all the time, there was hardly ever any time to think. Even though winning wasn't my primary measurement to determine my success on the show, I totally realized it was such a great privilege to have come this far, that whether I won or not, I needed to treat the whole experience with total respect and give my absolute best effort. Otherwise, what would be the point, right? Sleep had become scarce and I was exhausted all the time. There was no denying the level of expectations and there was no hiding from the fact there were people who really wanted me to win and those that didn't. While it was super-exciting, I also felt vulnerable and misunderstood some of the time, especially when I started hearing that people and the press were spreading false rumors about me and my family and I had to fight very hard with myself to not let those things bug me. I'd remind myself to stay positive even when it seemed like my life was so overwhelming. On the one hand, I wanted to just be a normal kid, but now that I had gotten to this level of the compet.i.tion, I knew that I owed it to myself, and those that were supporting me to see it through with all I could muster. I would constantly give myself little pep talks so that I would remember my original motivation and intentions, and when I didn't feel my performance was as good as it could have been after a show or started to feel nervous about how I sounded, I'd simply try to remember the better shows when I had felt on point. I would just try to redirect any negative energy that came up into trying to stay hopeful and optimistic.

The break in Utah was much needed-even though it wasn't much of a break with all the commotion. But taking that time off before returning to L.A. gave me a chance to think about the experience of being on the show, and to also start reflecting on some of the things I had learned. I started noticing some really neat changes in myself as a singer. For example, I found myself starting to think more deeply about the words that I was singing. This was kind of a new thing for me; because I started singing so young, I usually just connected with the melody and the emotion of the song and kind of took the lyrics for granted. A lot of the time I had sung without even knowing what I was singing about. Now, though, I began to really evaluate what the words meant more and more, which greatly helped me connect my own emotions with the sentiment of the song. I knew that the compet.i.tion was way bigger than just being able to hold notes and carry a tune. It was about learning how to interpret those lyrics according to my personality and the ability to transmit real feelings.

One of the most memorable examples was when I chose to sing John Lennon's "Imagine" as a reprise for the finale. As I had sung it before during Top 20 week, I decided to choose it again because it was more than just a song selection for me; it was my way of communicating some of my most personal feelings. The lyrics to that song express a lot of what I care about, and reflect a sense of positivity although some people interpret it as an antiwar and/or antireligion song. To me, it is about letting go of all the negative things in the world and focusing on the positive, which is a pretty basic message, but one that has deep meaning to how I try to guide my own life. Singing that song brought me into a mental s.p.a.ce of total peace and tranquillity, a feeling that I could almost see hovering above the crowd that was watching and listening. Both times that I sang that song, I could actually feel its impact; it was another one of those moments that affirmed the magical quality of music and the power that it has to completely penetrate a person's mind and spirit. I sang two other songs for the finale, but it was "Imagine" that crystallized the whole Idol Idol experience for me. It was exactly what my love for singing is all about. experience for me. It was exactly what my love for singing is all about.

The reaction of the audience that night told me one thing: They felt what I felt. I would even go as far as saying that it was a life-changing moment for me, because it confirmed what I had always intuitively felt about the power of music. I thought, I'm just this seventeen-year-old kid from Utah, but with two minutes of a song I truly felt something almost electric in the air that touched me and seemed to touch those who were listening. I felt it, and it seemed like the judges felt it and the audience as well-a collective experience of emotion, nostalgia, tenderness, hope and who knows what other feelings that were swirling around in the air that night. I was amazed at how intensely emotional I felt the whole time I was singing, and even more surprised by the way it seemed to affect others. It was like a pure spiritual connection and I'm sure that I'll always look back on the two performances of that song as some of my most special and profound musical experiences.

TOP 5 SONGS I'VE COVERED "Imagine" "Imagine" by John Lennon because it's such a universally powerful song. It affects people in a way that is almost beyond words. It is perfect music straight from the heart, music about coming together and positivity. It was a life-changing song for me, not only in the way I saw things, but also in the way it would affect my career. by John Lennon because it's such a universally powerful song. It affects people in a way that is almost beyond words. It is perfect music straight from the heart, music about coming together and positivity. It was a life-changing song for me, not only in the way I saw things, but also in the way it would affect my career. "Angels" "Angels" by Robbie Williams because it was such a big song, and I thought I could really throw myself into it and go for it. by Robbie Williams because it was such a big song, and I thought I could really throw myself into it and go for it. "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going" "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going" from the musical from the musical Dreamgirls Dreamgirls because it was the song that taught me what soul was, and how to sing with soul. Tamyra Gray sang it in the semifinals of the first season of because it was the song that taught me what soul was, and how to sing with soul. Tamyra Gray sang it in the semifinals of the first season of American Idol American Idol, and I couldn't stop watching her or singing that song for years. In fact, it was the only song I sang for a long time. It taught me that I could go from opera boy to Motown cat. "G.o.d Bless America" "G.o.d Bless America" because of the love in that song. I learned it around the time of September 11, 2001, so it resonated with me powerfully. Being able to sing that for other people was also really special, especially when I sang for a group of firemen and their families who had lost loved ones in New York. It was such a touching moment that I was honored to be a part of. because of the love in that song. I learned it around the time of September 11, 2001, so it resonated with me powerfully. Being able to sing that for other people was also really special, especially when I sang for a group of firemen and their families who had lost loved ones in New York. It was such a touching moment that I was honored to be a part of. "Castle on a Cloud" "Castle on a Cloud" from the musical from the musical Les Miserables Les Miserables because it was the first song to ever really strike me, and though I was only five I remember it vividly. because it was the first song to ever really strike me, and though I was only five I remember it vividly.I found myself starting to think more deeply about the words that I was singing I think the energy was so intense that night because the reality was sinking in that the season was almost over. I had dedicated the last six months to this show, and now it was all going to finally be over. It was crazy to think that we were at the end. What was going to happen next?

Along with the feeling of uncertainty, and even a bit of nostalgia, I can't deny that there was also a deep sense of relief. I thought to myself, There's nothing more I can do There's nothing more I can do. At this point I definitely had a strong feeling of accomplishment and was kind of ready for the "compet.i.tion side of things" to be over; no more being compared and judged every single day of my life. David Cook, the other finalist, was also tired of it. It's like everyone in the country cared about who was going to win except for us. We were just there to do music.

MERICAN IDOL SONGSTELEVISED AUDITION"Waiting on the World to Change" by John Mayer HOLLYWOOD WEEKDAY 1"Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley (which was never aired due to licensing issues)DAY 4"Heaven" by Bryan Adams TOP 24 (TOP 12 GUYS)"Shop Around" by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.Performed sixth on February 19, 2008.

TOP 20 (TOP 10 GUYS)"Imagine" by John Lennon. Performed last on February 26, 2008.

TOP 16 (TOP 8 GUYS)"Another Day in Paradise" by Phil Collins. Performed second onMarch 4, 2008.

TOP 12"We Can Work It Out" by the Beatles. Performed last on March11, 2008.

TOP 11"The Long and Winding Road" by the Beatles. Performed third on March 18, 2008.

TOP 10"You're the Voice" by John Farnham. Performed eighth on March 25, 2008.TOP 9"Smoky Mountain Memories" by Dolly Parton. Performed third on April 1, 2008.TOP 8"Angels" by Robbie Williams. Performed seventh on April 8,2008.

TOP 7"When You Believe" by Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston. Performed first on April 15, 2008.

TOP 6"Think of Me" by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Performed fourth on April 22, 2008.

TOP 5"Sweet Caroline" and "America" by Neil Diamond. Performed fourth on April 29, 2008.

TOP 4"Stand By Me" by Ben E. King and "Love Me Tender" by Elvis Presley. Performed last on May 6, 2008.TOP 3"And So It Goes" by Billy Joel, "With You" by Chris Brown, and"Longer" by Dan Fogelberg. Performed first on May 13, 2008.

FINALE"Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me" by Elton John, "In this Moment" (original composition sent in for the songwriting compet.i.tion), and "Imagine." Performed last on May 20, 2008.

David Cook and I together at the end of the American Idol journey.

People ask me all the time if I was upset because I didn't win the t.i.tle of American Idol. I don't know why it's so hard for everyone to understand that making it to the finals with such an amazing singer felt humbling, and I was just honored that anyone would consider me to be at his level. As I said before, I always tried to take away the sense of compet.i.tion from my motivation, and instead focused on the fact that I was in a great learning experience in the company of great talent. To me, that was already as gratifying as the idea of being chosen to be the American Idol. The fact that I had come this far was a personal accomplishment that went way beyond what I originally thought I was capable of, so the winning part of it just didn't matter at all.

I even remember telling myself, "David, don't be upset when you don't win 'cause it's going to be fine." Not "Don't be upset if you don't win"-it was clearly "when you don't win." How could I know? The truth is that just as I got an overwhelming feeling to go on that first audition in San Diego, I also knew at the finale in Los Angeles that I was not going to win. Don't ask me how, but I simply knew that it wasn't going to happen. It was a gut feeling, and by now you probably know where I stand on gut feelings. It's not that I think I made mistakes, I simply think I wasn't supposed to win. I wouldn't have done anything differently, because I sincerely believe that it was not my destiny to win that night. That was the beauty of it: I didn't expect to win. So when I didn't, I was totally prepared. I know this may be hard for many people to believe, but I don't think I even wanted to win. Winning would be too much of a responsibility, and honestly, I didn't know if I'd be ready.

I actually think I would've felt horrible if I had won, because I deeply felt that David Cook was the one who deserved it. Here was this amazing singer and all-around musician, someone I really looked up to and admired not just for his music side, but also as a person. I really respected him and the way he acted throughout the whole time we were together; I have to be honest and say that he was the person who, in my view, showed better than anyone else in the season that he should win. I was genuinely happy for him. And to top it all off, the first thing he said to me after he won was, "Love ya, bud. Thanks for being so awesome." I could not believe it. Th