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Chapter 2

In the Beginning

When most kids are little, their parents are their heroes. While this is not always true, it usually is. So being a child is simple: you look up to your parents and follow their example. Hopefully things just work out. You don’t really worry, because life just seems to be something that happens to you—not something you can shape and control.

For me things were a little bit different. While I loved my parents and did look up to them, ever since I can remember I had a fascination with superstars performing on stage. The things that attracted me about the celebrity lifestyle are the ones you’d expect: the adulation, the recognition, the massive sphere of influence. I wanted it all—I wanted to be a star. I wanted to impact people with my voice and the message of my music. But most of all, I just wanted to be famous—camera flashes, fancy hotels, and nice cars. The problem was I didn’t know where to start. For years, I quietly kept the dream tucked away in the back of my mind. After all, why invest so much hope in something that might not come true? In my more conservative moments, I dismissed it all as a pipe dream.

But in my last year of high school, I decided that those who do not try cannot succeed. So, if I didn’t take a crack at stardom now, in the window of my youth, it was never going to happen. I would end up as just another grey suit working a desk job in a cubicle somewhere, typing away under fluorescent lights and giggling at the daily wisdom of Dilbert cartoons—not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Back in those days I was a diehard partygoer, and by chance I was introduced to a Chinese vocal trainer, Miss Mary, by a friend whom I’d met at an outdoor rave. It had been a three-day party held at some remote area east of Langley, BC. The organizer provided school buses to pick us up from the Willowbrook Shopping Centre parking lot. After a short 15 or 20 minute ride, we got dropped off at an entrance to a muddy trail walled with tall trees on both sides. As we walked deeper into the woods, my heart pounded harder and harder as the music got a bit louder with each step we marched forward. The moment we exited the trail, we saw a wonderland with many tents set right in front of a huge stage with lasers and colourful lights. After some of our guys finished setting up our tent, we went inside to put on some gear for the party: white gloves, visors, glow sticks, plastic bead bracelets, and necklaces. Before we headed outside to join the growing crowd, each person got to choose a favourite kind of candy from the goody bag. The one that always gave me the right boost of energy to dance the whole night was a custom-made capsule containing the perfect proportion of MDMA (ecstasy) and speed.

As soon as the drugs kicked in, my body movements seemed to flow to the music. Like a robot with new batteries, I danced six hours straight non-stop that evening. When the sun came out I realized just how much I’d exerted myself. All my joints were swollen up and in pain. Resting in the tent after taking some Advil, I talked to Andrew about our lives and my dreams. We carried on discussing the same topic for a couple of hours.

While we were on the school bus heading back to the mall parkade, Andrew said, “Since you want to have a music career, why don’t I hook you up with my vocal trainer? She is quite well-known in the local music scene, and she’s a good friend of my dad. They both used to be singers in Asia. She doesn’t accept just anyone as a student. But since she knows my dad, I’m sure she’ll help you out.”

“Really? That would be awesome! I would love to meet her. Thanks so much, man!”

Within a week, Andrew had arranged for me to meet Miss Mary. After the initial audition at her home studio, she frowned and said, “To be honest with you, there’s tons of work we need to do before you can go on the stage to perform professionally. You have a long way to go. But don’t be discouraged; if you are determined and not afraid of hard work, I can train you to be at that level. Unlike traditional music schools in North America, you don’t need all these musical qualifications to enter my program, just a passionate heart and a commitment to follow my instructions. I act as a private coach. My vocal master in Hong Kong trained me since I was a little girl. Many famous singers from the ’80s and ’90s are my personal friends. In our tradition, we’re not allowed to pass our knowledge and skills to anyone until we receive the approval from our master-teacher. When I decided to move to Canada, she then finally approved me to be a teacher for others. The same condition would apply to you when you become my student.”

I nodded as I hung on every word that came out from her mouth, not wanting to miss anything. She then pointed to a wall full of photos and posters. “Many of my students have won singing contests, some of which were hosted by Sony Music Taiwan and other big name companies from overseas. Two of my students were signed by record labels in Taiwan. You can see their pictures and signed posters in this collage.”

Looking at the people inside the photos with trophies in their hands, smiling so happily, I instantly wanted to be one of them. The beautifully made posters of the two famous recording artists mesmerized me. Miss Mary continued, “Once you have the agreement from your parents about the tuition, we can get started. I’ll base my fee on a thorough evaluation to tailor a program just for you. Towards the end, I’ll use my connections in the music business back in Asia to set up meetings with agents and record label representatives. Though there’s no guarantee, I’ll help you to get into the business as best that I can. In between, you’ll have to go to a lot of competitions to gain live performance experience. It’s not going to be an easy road; hard work is required. Now you go think about it, and then let me know your decision.”

After talking to Miss Mary, I felt like there was a beacon of light shining down upon my path. I finally got a sense of direction after wandering for so many years. She showed me an avenue to the music industry that I so desperately wanted to be part of. I was stoked. That was it. I was going to go for it. I made a decision to pursue a music career full time with the help of Miss Mary after graduating high school. Without a whole lot of musical background besides the violin lessons that I took in primary school, I was definitely going to be swimming upstream. Since I wasn’t going into any recognized music college, most people thought the whole thing was a joke.

However, my parents responded differently. They were ecstatic that I was distancing myself from the rough crowd I’d been hanging around with at the end of high school and was setting my sights on a concrete goal. While many parents would consider shooting for a career in the music industry a longshot—like trying to make the NHL or something—from my parents’ perspective, it was way healthier than hanging out with guys who spent their time organizing parties and getting high, so they were very supportive. They decided that they would provide for me financially for the full duration of the 18-month program that Miss Mary had tailored. The program included vocal training; body gesture and modelling training; physical training; dancing and on-stage training; and audition training.

In order to focus on my work, I would have to completely withdraw from the party scene, which, at the time, represented a sacrifice because I knew that this would alienate me from my closest friends. But I had to do it—this was my one chance, and there may never be another window of opportunity. Furthermore, I needed to sober up and embrace a fairly disciplined lifestyle because I would have to get up early and work all day in the years to come. I needed to look good too, so this meant exercising regularly as part of a physical training program. There was no room for goofing off anymore.

At first it seemed to be a huge personal sacrifice to miss all the fun. For a while, my friends would continue to call and ask me to join them, but after I had said “No thanks” a few too many times, the calls petered out, and the phone was pretty much silent. Compared to my former life, I felt like I had entered a monastery or something—to bed early, up early, working all day, structure, discipline, and practice—and all this while daydreaming about getting high, especially on the weekends, when I knew all my buddies were out clubbing. I would stare at the microphone on its stand, the symbol of all that I wanted to be and become, and with that meditation I would find strength to resist the party scene. Gradually I overcame it completely and defeated the feelings of loneliness by fixating on the promise of a brighter day ahead.

Even though I wasn’t endowed with the kind of undiscovered angelic voice you might see on a viral YouTube video, I strived to learn how to become a professional performer and to create a unique style that would capture the interest of my audience. During that time, not only was I working on music, but I was also working very hard on physical fitness because it is part of the work of a live stage performer. I woke up bright and early in the morning to run laps and went swimming in the afternoon. I took dance classes, went to stage performance boot camp, and three times a week worked out in the gym. I had vocal lessons once a week with Miss Mary and practised vocals all week at home. I worked fairly unrelentingly, and there were many days when I just wanted to sleep in ’cause it was pouring rain outside. But every time a voice from within would pull me out of bed and remind me that I had a goal and I wanted to achieve it. My imagination was not going to make my career. I had to do it.

Everyone around me knew about my plans too—because it was nearly all I talked about—and I wanted to show them that I wasn’t all talk. I wanted them to see my drive in the efforts that I was making. In the back of my head, I would hear all of those questions of self-doubt: Who do you think you are, some kind of prodigy? Do you really think you’re going to be able to do this? What if you’re a total failure? You will have wasted all this time and energy, and you’ll look like some kind of idiot wannabe to all your friends.

I struggled a lot. While many of my schoolmates were either studying at college or finding a job that could provide a substantial living, I was chasing after my dream without an income. But I would tell myself that if I didn’t try, I wouldn’t succeed, and somehow I just kept chipping away at it. Training myself day after day, fixing my eyes on the goal, hoping that one day it’d all pay off.

Eventually, Miss Mary thought I should give a crack at a public performance. It was a talent show hosted by the Yaohan Centre in Richmond, BC, and the radio station AM1470. All the local Chinese media were advertising this event, so my master-teacher Mary wanted to put my newly acquired skills to the test. I was so nervous!

“Listen, kid, don’t let it get into your head. There are going to be a lot of people there, but the more aware that you become of them, the more they will be aware that you are nervous. Audiences like confidence, not nerves. Even though you may be trembling inside, never show it on your face. Remember everything that I taught you.”

“Yeah … but how do I make myself confident when I’m not?” I replied.

“Are you nervous in the studio?”

“No.”

“So you have to make yourself feel like you are in the studio. The way to do that is to imagine the people as just part of a backdrop—like they were painted on a big tapestry or something. They are just scenery. You need to turn them into scenery in your head.”

“I’m not sure it’s that easy.”

“Trust me, you will get there, and the more confident you are, the better time your audience will be having and the better time you will be having. Remember, this is what you want to do. This is your dream, so go get it!”

The pep talk didn’t really work. My hands were shaking so badly that I ended up stuffing them in the pockets of my yellow hoodie. Not only that; I was just soaked in sweat. It was dripping down my forehead, and I could feel the beads piling up and running down the small of my back. I’m just glad I wasn’t wearing a dress shirt, because it would have been soaking wet and sticking to my skin. No surprise, I didn’t place in the competition, but I had conquered my first public performance, and that gave me some sense of accomplishment.

As time passed, I got to perform more often. What used to be a very nerve-racking experience began to feel quite comfortable, and as this happened, I began to fall in love with the stage. The whole thing became addictive—the spotlights on me, the sound of applause, the larger-than-life feeling. I loved it all.

_______

Sitting by the windows of the Fairways Grill & Patio up at the Westwood Plateau Golf Club on a hot summer day, I felt a dark cloud hovering over our table. We had just received a call early that morning from our management overseas to arrange an emergency meeting. Our downcast faces stood in contrast to the spectacular view of the sunlit ridge visible from our seats. After months of training and relentless practice, our record deal had all but evaporated.

“What’s going on? This is crazy! I thought we were going to sign the contracts next month? I thought everything was in place.” Joe was getting really angry.

“I know! What the heck? He promised us everything. First album coming out before Christmas … all lies! All this work we’ve done—all for nothing? This is BS!” James lit up his smoke.

“This is ridiculous! I can’t believe it …” I was trying to digest what I’d just heard over the phone.

“He even told me I should drop out of university. Good thing I didn’t listen to him. I’d be so screwed otherwise!” Joe hit the table with his fist.

“And luckily I still have my business running. He told me to give up everything here too. Well, what are we going to do with this group now? It’s over, right?” James picked up his lemonade.

“I don’t know, man … We still need to tell the other three what’s going on. I wonder how they’re gonna react. But before we do anything, let me make a follow-up call and see if this deal is really over. Maybe there’s still hope.” I sighed.

In 2001, an agent from MTV Taiwan came to Vancouver in search of young talent for a new boy band. They wanted to form a Chinese version of NSYNC. I was selected at the interview along with Joe, Kenny, Abraham, Wilson, and James—all my music friends. This experience gave me confidence that we were really going to make something of ourselves.

The agent promised us a lot of things. However, after six months of working with us as their prospective boy band, management decided to drop us because they had a better opportunity with some guys from LA. They were not going to fund two projects. That put an end to this chapter of my dream.

I felt like a loser and spent weeks feeling completely dejected. I had a terrible time coming to terms with the experience. Yet in my heart I didn’t believe that the dream was dead, so I began to think about far more pragmatic career backup plans. I had to prepare for the possibility that I was never going to make it in music, but I wanted a job where I could have a little artistic outlet. After chatting with my grandpa, I decided to apply to a hairstyling college to earn my hairstylist licence while I continued to seek ways to enter the music industry. That way, I could earn a little money and would have something I could fall back on for a while if nothing came of music.

Another year went by—lots of practising, lots of training, lots of sweeping hair clippings from the floor—and then another big-name record label, Warner Music Taiwan, came to North America to scout talent in view of forming a hip-hop group. With the help of my new-found friend Yuen, a young music producer, I entered the competition with a song I had co-written. It was held inside Radisson Hotel, Richmond. Some big name producers and artists’ agents and two regional department heads of the record label in Hong Kong and Taiwan were among the panel of judges. Apparently, I hadn’t been selected in the first round of auditions at Fairchild TV Station, Vancouver, four weeks earlier. Somehow when the judges reviewed all the video footage in Taipei, they spotted my performance and picked me as one of the 12 final contestants. They had high expectations. Later I was glad that I didn’t know all these details until after the competition or I probably would have been under so much pressure that I wouldn’t be able to give my best shot on the stage.

In the green room everyone was busy getting in some last-minute practice, while I lay down on the couch to rest. My theory was that since I had spent countless hours practising at the dance studio for the past four weeks, if I still didn’t remember my routine, there would be nothing else I could do at this point. So I chose to reserve my energy.

“Boz, you’re up in 10 minutes!” The stage manager woke me up from my rest. I stood up slowly and did my last stretch. In front of the mirror, I looked into my eyes, tapped my face lightly, and said to myself, “This is your dream; now go get it!”

The moment I entered the stage, all spotlights were on me. The panel of judges was at eye level. Lights flashed from all corners of the auditorium. Some friends of mine, including Joe and Kenny, were there cheering for me. I could hear them yelling my name somewhere in the crowd. Audiences didn’t bother me anymore. I had mastered the skill of treating them as a backdrop. Once the music kicked in, I was on autopilot because of all my practising, and the performance went very smoothly. I had a great time on stage. After I finished singing the last line and had my ending post, I bowed my head, greeting everyone, then headed back to the green room. Not wanting to think too much about the outcome, I lay back down on the couch to rest.

An hour passed by before all the contestants were called back up to the stage for the final result. Standing up there, I didn’t know what to expect. The judges announced the second runner-up, then the first runner-up. In the midst of all the cheering and applause, my mind went completely blank. I snapped myself back and turned my focus to the two contestants who were holding their trophies, and I wondered how it’d feel to hold one myself.

Suddenly, the MC asked everyone to quiet down as Sam, the regional department head of Warner Music Taiwan, came up to the stage. He spent a couple of minutes giving the audience a short story about the next-superstar search and how they ended up in Vancouver. He went on to list all the successful stars of their company. Unexpectedly, after his speech, he turned to me and said, “And I’m happy to announce that Bosco Poon, B.O.Z, is now part of our family! He is our winner! He is the next superstar of Warner Music.”

In front of everyone there, Sam announced to the Chinese media that they were going to make me the next mega hit in Asia. I was overwhelmed with camera flashes and clamouring entertainment reporters. To be honest, as happy as I was, I wasn’t really prepared for so much attention. It happened way too fast. All that I was sure of was that I should smile, but I was so tense that I probably acted a little like a robot. While I was still answering reporters’ questions, I was escorted from the main lobby to the second-floor meeting room of the hotel. While I was waiting for the introduction meeting to begin, I excused myself to the hallway and made a quick call home. As soon as someone picked up, I screamed, “Aaaaaaah, I made it! I WON!”

“Hey, you’re hurting my ear! What? You serious? You won as in—” my dad questioned.

“First place, Dad. Can you believe it?!”

“Yay! He won, he won!” He was yelling the good news to my mom. I could hear both of them clapping together. After letting them calm down a little I continued, “Please go dress up. I’ll come pick you guys up for dinner in two hours, after our meeting is done here. They want to meet you in person. I have to hurry back. I just snuck out to give you the news. See you in a bit.”

Later that evening, the company took my family to a high-end Japanese restaurant nearby Radisson Hotel to celebrate in a private dining room. Everyone was treating me like a king. During dinner Sam promised me just about anything you can imagine: personal assistant, private vehicle, apartment in downtown Taipei, an expense allowance, access to the top recording studios, VIP access to the major clubs, etc. I was overwhelmed by everything. Just listening to what lay before me, I was starting to feel like a celebrity already.

The next day I woke up to see my face plastered over the Canadian Chinese newspapers, and the Chinese TV stations were running the interviews that had taken place at the hotel. I could barely contain myself. I was absolutely bursting with excitement—my heart was racing all the time—but in a good way. I was a ball of nerves one minute and cockily self-assured the next. I spent the next couple of days calling all my relatives and friends to tell them that I had finally made it.

Page by page, I combed through the preliminary artist contract to make sure that this was not some kind of hoax. It wasn’t. This was really happening. Gazing up in the sky I would see airplanes pass and envision myself sitting in executive class—or maybe even on a private jet—on one adventure after the next. New cities, new venues, new fans, and a new life. My head was so far into the clouds, I even practised scribbling my signature hundreds of times in preparation for all the upcoming signing events. It was such an amazing feeling, I have to say. For years, countless people in my life had pointed their finger squarely at my forehead and chided me for having set my sights on such an ephemeral goal. Chinese kids are supposed to become accountants or go to medical school or something. This contract would shut all their mouths. I would finally be vindicated.

“Those who exalt themselves will be humbled.” (Matt. 23:12)

While I was walking by an urban accessory store in Richmond Centre, the passport cases caught my attention. There were over 50 different designs. I combed through them to find the one that would suit my new image. Strawberries … ummm … no. Hello Kitty … no. Handguns … too violent. After I picked around for five minutes, one of the cases caught my eye. What’s this one? This is pretty cool. It was decorated with a pattern of steel-grey airplanes and had a glossy black lining. There was a bold silver airplane icon stamped in the bottom right-hand corner. That’s the one, I thought. It has the right look.

Smiling joyfully, I strutted up to the cashier to pay. In a year, I figured, she’ll know me by name, and I’ll be so famous, someone will be picking out my accessories for me. As she dropped the change into my hand, my cellphone rang. Hmmm, I don’t recognize that number. Better pick up.

“Hello, who’s this?” I asked.

“Hey, uh … it’s me, Boz. I’m calling from Taiwan,” a familiar female voice replied.

“Oh! Hi, Linda! I’ve been waiting for your call. How are you?”

“I’m doing okay. Thank you. And you?”

“Oh yeah. I’m doing great—practising non-stop. I’m totally ready to start recording. As a matter of fact, I’m buying a passport case as we speak. I can be in Taipei on a day’s notice as soon as you give the green light!”

“Uh … it’s like this … The reason I called today is to update you with the progress of your contract. There’s so much going on. Listen, this is nothing against you personally. It’s just the business side of things, you know. I hate to tell you this, but our deal got turned down. Warner Music has signed off our project’s budget to a new hip-hop group made up of the former LA Boyz. It’s a decision made by upper management. We’re terribly sorry for what this means for you. Your written agreement with the company will be terminated automatically after one year. So basically you’ll be free to sign with other companies after that. Son, you’re talented. There are many other ways—” she said in a deep tone.

“What? This is a joke, right? I … I don’t understand. This is impossible! I won the competition fair and square, and they pumped it up in the media. You were there. You saw it. They can’t do this to me, can they?” I accidentally dropped my shopping bag.

“Unfortunately, this is not a matter for negotiation. It’s a decision that has already been made. No one was going to tell you all this. They were just going to let you flounder in the dark until your agreement expired. I felt sorry for you, so I decided to call and fill you in. The deal is over. I’m sorry. It was good meeting you in Canada. I wish you all the best. Listen, I have to go. Take care.” She hung up before I could ask another question.

No way. She must be confused about something. I’m sure that this is just a misunderstanding. I had a hard time believing what I had heard. Fumbling through my wallet, I found Sam’s business card. I dialed his number in haste. I was so agitated that I dropped my phone twice before I successfully made the call. Answering machine? Got to be kidding me! I dialed again. Same? All right, I’ve had enough! This joke has gotta stop right now! Standing in the middle of the mall, I felt tears start to well up in my eyes.

I tried all the numbers on his business card: personal mobile phone, Taipei head office, Hong Kong head office. I couldn’t reach him. Different receptionists just kept sending me to his voicemail. I must have left a dozen messages. Sitting in front of my phone, I waited and waited. The phone was silent.

_______

Months went by. Every morning I woke up in total misery. I would sit still and stare at the preliminary contract. I simply could not face reality. Then Warner Music Taiwan announced the debut of a new hip-hop group, Machi, to all the major media outlets in Asia. This was the group that Linda had told me about. Their faces were plastered all over the front page of the Chinese newspaper my dad brought home. I immediately tore it into pieces. Whenever their music came on the radio, I’d turn it off right away. Every time someone picked one of their songs at a karaoke bar, I’d storm off to have a smoke to calm myself down. No matter where I went, they seemed to be following me. My dreams were shattered—and reshattered. Jealousy, anger, and feelings of betrayal gradually overwhelmed me. I lost to bands from LA, not once but twice. First, seeing a boy band and now a hip-hop group taking my rightful place was totally infuriating. To rub salt in my wounds, I had to constantly see them on all the Asian music channels.

Just in case that wasn’t enough grief to bear, all kinds of people kept calling me to ask about my music career news. They’d want to know when my album was coming out and where I would be touring and whether they could get backstage passes and this, and that, and anything-imaginable-that-would-result-in-further-humiliation. I had no idea how to answer. Why would the record label do that to me? Why would they launch me into the media stratosphere only to let me catastrophically slam back down to the Earth? Why bother awarding me a prize at all? From whatever angle I looked at it, it seemed completely senseless.

“Son,” my dad pleaded, “this is a testing from above. And when you come out of it, you’ll become stronger and wiser. Not everything will go your way. In fact there will always be things that won’t happen exactly the way you want. There’s no way to escape disappointment. But that’s okay. It’s just the cycle of life. You win some and you lose some. Don’t let these failures defeat you. You can get back up from where you fell, you know. This is not the end.” I got this speech in various forms day after day.

Dad’s words were extremely difficult to swallow at first, but as I chewed on them, I slowly understood the wisdom in them. There was really no point dwelling on the past, since I had absolutely no power to change the situation with Warner. I gradually concluded that I should turn this experience into an asset of experience and keep moving forward. At the very least, my talent had been recognized, not once but twice, by two major music companies. That had to mean something. I should have taken this as an encouragement. My only way to repay the unconditional support from my family was to get up, wipe off the dust, and try again. Right there and then, I swore to create my own promise of a brighter day—a promise to put my past behind me and to make it into the music business, no matter what the cost. I determined to prove to the world that I was worthy.