The judge

"That was a classic song and you butchered it." I say into the mike. The overhead lights blind me. I am sweating. The camera pans on me and moves back. I call cut. I mop my sweat, the make-up assistant repowders my face and we go back to shooting. I continue from where I had left off ten minutes earlier. You stand on the stage- a nervous wreck. You already know I hate it and do not like the way it is going. I go on further to strongly prove my point that although the song was great, the music was great and you were pitch perfect you simply had no soul- which was the most essential thing according to me.
The other two judges do not quite agree with me. One thinks that you were courageous even to attempt this and the other things she likes the emotion she heard! I vote a strong no to the two yes-es..you are in through the next round.
Who am I to judge you? Why am I here to judge you? Why should I judge you? I have a career that just recently took off. I am not currently making any albums and I have been the subject of tabloid speculations and scandals. But does that mean I get the right to crush someone's dream? That I be the judge that decides if you should pursue your dream? That you put a brave attempt in front of millions. That this show will help you transition from the bathroom singer to an international voice?
I don't quite want to know the answer for the fear of hurting myself...besides am being paid cool shit!