KT Kats

By Alan Shrake

KT Kats are a vocal group of four girls from Koreatown who make it big in the music biz in LA, with lots of songs, boys, and dreams along the way.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan Shrake
• Release date: Apr 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393531357

Book preview

Chapter 1

DZ lay in sleek copper sheets, smiling at West L.A. beyond her condo on La Brea and Wilshire, light cinnamon eyes shining below a luxurious black flo.

A tall hunk in long top and short beard walked in from the bathroom hallway on her right, tan towel wrapped below a rippled six pack outlining his enormous manhood.  DZ turned, holding her sheet around an ample bosom.

Who do you think you are, Jason Derulo?

Oh, he looked down.  I see your point, like last night, lappin,’ he alluded triumphantly, rubbing right hand through curly hair.

Well, I don’ know about the Jason part but you were the shizzle, bizzle.  She stared at his girth sitting beside her, reaching to touch him.

Ooh, Tony, baby, baby, she sing sang.

Sounds like your music, he smiled a nice set, gray eyes pleasant.  Like all these pictures on the wall of you and your band, he pointed to the framed Industry portraits, red carpet runways, and a gold album for their first single, Picture Perfect.

KT Kats, she smiled.  Down for life.

Tony picked up a small gold framed photo of the band from the bedside table.  You all look so cute.

Yes, that was the plan.  Cute, cute, cute, cute, she tapped on each girl with her long white fingernail, but also blending cultural, ethnic, and musical styles.

Who’s the stacked blonde?  We didn’t talk much last night.

Anastasia Popov, but we call her Stasi.  She’s from the Little Russia here in Koreatown, up Western near the 101.

He pointed to her right.  And the cute Asian?

Songmi Lee, also from KT, third generation.  Her dad is our impresario and funds the group, Mr. Lee.

Then the hot little Latina, Tony tilted the frame.

Nanci, Nanci Nannini, Italian Guatemalan American from Westlake.  Such a cut-up, hah, hah, hah.

Now you, he tapped her face.  Desiree Johnson, African American, but everyone knows you by DZ.

Very good.  I bridge South Central and K Town.

You all look so hot together.

Thank you, she smiled at his comment.

How’s the career going?

Pretty well.  Our tune ‘Picture Perfect’ is number nine on the Billboard Hot 100.

Wow!  I think I heard it on 97.1.

And 102.3 and 96.3, DZ smiled proudly.  It’s a crossover hit.  That’s what ya gotta do.  Crossover,  she put her arm around his firm six pack.  Uhm, like you, she purred.

He bent over and kissed her brunette hair.  Uhm, he baritoned back.

She released her grip.  I have to go get ready, she rose in bed half heartedly holding the sheet before her tall frame.  We’re doing a show tonight at the Wiltern.

Can I come? Tony asked, also rising.

Sure, but we’ll be there first for a sound check.

Thanks.  I’m on it. 

He walked to the panoramic window and looked out over the West L.A. landscape.  It’s been a long journey for me, Tony Cox, peering off dreamily on his left to South Central, stroking his beard, before the palm urbanscape.

The Shaw, the Crens, the Rolling Sixties, the J’s, the BLM protests.  I used to hang at Leimert Park and save trees on Crenshaw with Professor Drake, and later toke some ‘trees’ at King Kush down on Broadway, but also got into some trouble at a session house.

Session house? DZ asked, standing before hitting the shower.

An informal dispensary where homies can buy five gram eighths of old school flower like Grandaddy Purple and King Louie, and drink mollywater all day long.  You have to know the password to get in, though.

And things got janky?

Yes, but the romantic kind.  One of the budtenders, Jasmine, a voluptuous Jordanian-American girl with a cute voice like Marisa Tomei, was the owner’s ex-girlfriend when I came along.  You know how that goes, he smiled sheepishly.

You personal trainers always gettin’ into trouble.

Like you musicians, hah, Tony laughed.

See you tonight.  Show up around eight.  I’ll tell them to put you on the guest list.

Sure, lover, Tony walked over.  You know, it’s only been one date, but somehow we came together.  At least I did, even though it was just a lapdance.

I did, too, she smiled.  A lot.

Then take this, he pressed his sheathed against her, scent of Brut.

Oh, you, she exclaimed.  I feel like it but now’s not the time.  The show.

But when you ready, I am.

Maybe tonight, she hopped off to the shower, then turned back, smiling twice.  Jason.

Tony grinned with anticipation as he put on his Polo khakis, dark brown sweater, white Nikes, and black Tag Heuer to go to his white Nissan Pathfinder in the garage.

Tonight, lover.

Chapter 2

DZ! a tall, voluptuous blonde with Gomez globes, tight hair bun, blue eyes, high cheekbones, and round hips in a white strapless mini and heels yelled out in the dark backstage area at the Wiltern.

Stasi! DZ yelled back, in her black mini.  Are we going to rock this place tonight?

Yeah, boy, Stasi swooped her hand down from on high to shake hers, as roadies ran down the cream trimmed white hallways.

Where are the other two? DZ asked, holding her favorite Sennheiser headset mic.

Aqui estamos! Nanci, a petite Latina with a pixie cut, brown eyes, dark brows, and brown skin walked up in a tight strapless red mini, Songmi by her side.

¿Que onda?  ¿Dos, tres? she swiveled her hand.

Nanci, cutest girl in the world, Stasi hugged her.

My dad is in the audience, so let’s nail it, Songmi flashed her hands up and down in her yellow mini, long, straight, black hair parted in the middle over brown eyes, a sweet face, and slender body with pert knobs.

Let’s do a short ‘Picture’ chorus soundcheck, DZ took control as she normally did, then go get ready for the show.  Come on, girls.

They put on their headset mics as she led them out to the spacious stage with its black surface, black forestage, and black speaker columns hanging from a high ceiling.

She pointed to the chubby, bearded soundman in a golf cap at his board in back.  They would do canned now, then live band later.  Hit it, Bruno.

He nodded and raised the volume slider.

They sang a short soundcheck of the chorus from their new hit Picture Perfect, doing its intricate dance moves coordinated to penetrate the K-Pop market.

Picture perfect,/You make me feel picture perfect,/ Oh, baby, baby,/Picture perfect,/Picture perfect, the girls sang the catchy chorus with perfect harmonies and their complex choreography.

Picture perfect.

They hooked it again until the song ended.

Picture perfect,/You make me feel picture perfect,/ Oh, baby, baby,/Picture perfect,/Picture perfect.

They vogued in various poses then gathered around, happy for the short sound check.

Picture perfect.

Thanks, Bruno, DZ waved as he waved back.

That was great, girls, Songmi’s dad walked up the aisle clapping, in tan suit, red tie, red sox, brown shoes, and gold Rolex.  The vocal levels are set for the headsets.  He shook hands, smiling happily under square silver frames and square haircut.  And you’re ready for K-Pop television in Seoul.

Thanks, Mr. Lee, they all enthused in unison.

He wagged his finger and smiled.

Now you have to go to the dressing room for hair and make-up.  The crowd is building up out on Wilshire.

Okay, Mr. Lee, they sangsong again.

And I have special gifts waiting for you there.

Oh, thanks, Mr. Lee, they enthused one last time before going off backstage to the dressing room.

Mrs. Kim, their make-up artist, was there to greet them in her long black dress over a full body and curly hair.

Annyeonghaseyo, she bowed as they entered.

Annyeonghaseyo, they bowed, having learned a passable amount of Korean from their years in K Town.

How are you girls? Mrs. Kim smiled as they sat down in white director’s chairs for a light makeover.

Oh, we’s fine, Mrs. Kim, DZ said matter of factly as she put on a paper bib.  Just watching out for the boys.

Rough but light, Stasi joked, also bibbing.

Like my new love, Tony, DZ said, worked over with a powder brush.

Ooh, he sounds muy churro, Nanci smiled, sitting in her chair.  Very good looking, that is.

Oh, he was, when I lapdanced him last night.

"I did that with my former cartography professor, after he retired," Nanci swoop pointed down emphatically.

I love cartography, Songmi demurred.  Maps.

But don’t worry, he wasn’t married.

Mrs. Kim broke in as she puffed up her hair.

That’s what they say, then you wind up in a one night stand at a yogwan hotel in Namdaemun District.

I remember Namdaemun Market, Songmi said, eyes closed dreamily as she got made up.  A huge maze of thousands of shops with goods and people.  I almost got lost there.

You won’t get lost with a cartography professor, DZ said.  Just give him a lap dance.

"Former cartography professor," Nanci corrected.

Hah, hah, hah, hah, they all laughed hysterically.

Mrs. Kim topped them off with Chanel No. 5.

And these are gifts from Mr. Lee, she attached platinum Siamese cat pendants to their tops.  He wanted you to have them.

Oh, super perfect, Stasi felt the smooth jewelry on her bosom, which went well with her outfit.

We on it, girls.  Let’s gather around, DZ ordered.

They held hands to let her do her thang.

Lord, she prayed, eyes closed, hands clutching the others, let us be the light tonight.  Amen.

Amen, the others affirmed before Nanci quipped.

And the wackest!

Chapter 3

Meanwhile, Tony showed up in front of the Wiltern in a smooth purple twilight, like some GDP.  He salivated.

A long line wrapped around the sidewalk in front of the emerald green art deco theater, its prominent marquee advertising KT Kats, busy traffic on Wilshire rushing by under time worn office buildings.

Hey, my man, Tony offered a bump to the head bouncer, a large, bald, black man in black t-shirt, jacket, pants, and silver Rolex and chain.  He hesitated but gave in with a smile.  They bumped.

What’s up, brother? he inquired.

My girlfriend is performing tonight, DZ.  She said I would be on the guest list.  Tony, Tony Cox.

The bouncer looked down at his clipboard.

Tony Cox, he perused the list.  Oh, here you is, he smiled.  Take this badge.  He slapped a sticker with a seat number on Tony’s left chest with a thud.

Thanks, Tony offered another bump.

No problem, slick, the bouncer took it, then on to the next pressing situation.

Tony entered the theater, with its alternate spaces of green, red, and orange carpets and art deco design walls, the grandest being the elaborate oval section with its orange square design carpet and high rotunda with agate like roof.  The din of hundreds of fans filled the air as they filed in to the take their red seats under ornate art deco decorations on the walls and see their fav rave band.  He melded in and walked into the cavernous theater, searching for his seat number.  Angling past others, he finally smiled taking it, just in time.

The girls hit the stage to a tremendous uproar from their fans, mostly teens into emo, K-Pop, reggaeton, and EDM.  As they danced out to greet them, a huge sign made of light bulbs flashed from behind, KT Kats!

DZ shouted into her headset mic, Are you ready to rock tonight?

Yeah, the kids yelled out in unison, raising their hands, holding cellphones alight or small, round signs with the girls’ pictures on them.

Aight! DZ smiled out at them.  Let’s get on it!

Picture Perfect, their first hit, even for an indie, started up with their band in the pit, who they would mingle with later.

Songmi began