Even Slackers Get Stressed

It's 11 am on a Monday, and your American Idols are cramped into a makeshift hair-and-makeup room on a Los Angeles soundstage getting primped for TV GUIDE'S photo shoot. While Soul Patrolman Taylor wavers between white shirts (button-down or long-sleeve tee?), glamour gal Katharine McPhee is having her long locks spun into soft ringlets.

Richmond, Virginia, native Elliott Yamin—who's sporting a FUNKY WHITE BOY T-shirt sent by a fan—paces nervously before sinking into a chair for a shave. "I've grown a lot," he says of his place in the competition. "I feel more confident." Or at least he did until the razor came thisclose to his Adam's apple. He's gotta protect the goods. Conversation's over. Even after his shave, Elliott's on edge, worried about the next night's performance and eager to rehearse. "All I care about is time to work on my music," he says testily. "This other outside stuff—press, photo shoots—I guess it comes with the job."

You can't blame him for being touchy. After all, Elliott's the guy with the 90 percent hearing loss in his right ear and the imperfect teeth. By his own estimation, he's had nearly 50 odd jobs—including shoe salesman and pharmacy counter clerk—but he figures he was best at being "a professional layabout" who often didn't get up until 1pm. In other words, Elliott, 27, wasn't supposed to make it this far. He certainly didn't expect to: "The farther you go, the more of a popularity contest it becomes, and I'm not a heartthrob."

And yet the dark horse has emerged a front-runner, thanks to a silky-smooth voice that turns Paula into a sobbing schoolgirl and Simon into—gasp!—an enthusiastic fan. Surely Elliott's startling physical transformation hasn't hurt. He's all for being "Idol-ized to the fullest" by stylists, who've steered him away from baggy clothes and into tailored shirts and pants that "show off my assets. I feel sharp." He loves his longer hair. And he's heard from dozens of dentists eager to fix his teeth for free (and for some free publicity). After Idol, he figures he'll take one of them up on the offer.

For now, Elliott stifles a yawn. But the relentless pace is v worth it. "I'm finally doing what I was born to do," he says. "That's just an awesome feeling to have." He smiles. And for a moment, the stress melts away. Game Plan: "I can't afford to have outside distractions," he says. "I'm telling my girlfriend, 'Relax—wait and come out for the finale.'"

On the Kat Walk

At 11:30am on Friday, a black Ford Explorer pulls up to the Idol stage at CBS studios in L.A. and out steps Katharine McPhee, in low-rise jeans and a leather jacket from bebe. She's just returned from an Idol-funded trip to a swank spa in Laguna Beach, where she had a 7am massage. Still, she says, sadly, "I couldn't really relax."

Before rehearsal, Kat uses Ryan Seacrest's dressing room to examine custom-made jewelry. She is soon interrupted by a classical-music ringtone on her cell. It's her mother, Peisha, a singer who started coaching Kat when she was 2. "Hi, Mom. Mom. I'm in the middle of doing press stuff," Katharine says. "Oh, I love you, too."

"This is my life," says the 22-year-old with a sigh, snapping the phone shut and rushing off to rehearse.

When she emerges four hours later, she's ready to hit the stores on trendy Robertson Boulevard. The Sherman Oaks, California, native used to work at a clothing boutique, so she's an expert shopper. As she scans the racks, Kat absentmindedly fiddles with a crystal heart necklace, a gift from her boyfriend. "I'd rather not talk about personal relationship-type things," she says guardedly.

OK, then. How does she feel about being the last woman standing? "I can hang with the boys, but it's weird" she admits.

At a shop called Ghost, she tries on the outfit she saw in the front window. It fits her perfectly. As the manager rings up the sale, she tells Katharine, "I don't watch your show, but I will now."

Katharine flashes an Aquafresh smile and says, "I could really use your vote."

On the street, she stops to play with a small puppy being walked by a blonde in big sunglasses. Suddenly a guy with a long-lens camera starts snapping away. Kat's bodyguard tells him to leave but he doesn't: Instead, the paparazzo and the "puppy owner" sit in an SUV, waiting for another opportunity to catch Kat.

The would-be Idol tells people in another store about the puppy scam. But they're impressed. "You have paparazzi?" one says. "Yeah!"

Determined to finish her shopping, Kat turns her attention to a rack of necklaces. What's she looking for? "One that doesn't cost $800," she says, with real regret in her voice. "We may be famous—but we're not rich." Game Plan: No matter how harsh the criticism, Kat takes her lumps gracefully. "I don't know why you wouldn't," she says. "I'll be the first one to admit it when I'm not doing something very well."

Dog Days, Southern Style

There's no such thing as a day of rest when you're an Idol. That's why, on a blister-ingly hot Sunday afternoon, the final four have been shut-tied to suburbia to shoot the latest Ford video. Taylor Hicks, dressed in khaki coveralls, has just been nicknamed "one-take Jake" by the director for perfectly balancing a stack of metal pipes while maintaining a spring in his step.

But Taylor's attention has already shifted to a giant black dog getting walked by two preteen girls. His words spill out: "How are you? Can I see the puppy? Is that a Chesapeake Bay?" He crouches down and gives the dog a brisk rub. The girls stand frozen, not quite believing their luck: "Ohmigod, Taylor Hicks is, like, petting OUR dog!"

"I used to have a big chocolate Lab," Taylor says softly of Dudley, who was hit and killed by a car three years ago. "He was a sweetheart."

His quiet mood is jarring, considering his manic Idol stage presence. Then again, Taylor has a way of sneaking up on you. After his Las Vegas audition as the spastic soul man with prematurely gray hair, who could have predicted that he'd be the only remaining hopeful not to tumble into the bottom three? Surely not Simon, his harshest critic. "Luckily, I've been able to show some true talent," the Birmingham, Alabama, native says in his batter-dipped drawl. "I'm excited about possibly winning American Idol."

He was almost as thrilled to visit Graceland. The day before, he was riding in a golf cart with "lead foot" Lisa Marie Presley, which was "probably the the most fun experience I've ever had on the show. It was nice to see a magnolia tree and feel the Southern air." Not to mention eat BBQ and down "probably two gallons" of sweet tea.

"If there's anybody I relate to, it would have to be Elvis," he says boldly. "When I do my funky moves, people kind of laugh. And I think when Elvis started dancing, people thought, 'What's he doing?'"

Only time will tell if he can be Idol's king, but Taylor, 29, does hold the distinction of being the lone remaining contestant who didn't have a day job. He proudly survived as "a broke musician" and even released two independent CDs, which are "under trade embargo" until Idol's over. And Taylor's the only one who won't complain about the hectic schedule.

"Sleep? Last time I heard that word was my fifth-grade teacher telling me how to spell it," he says, heading off to check e-mails before shooting resumes. "When you do something you love, sleep can wait."

Game Plan: "I'm not trying to please Simon, I'm trying to please the American people. This is AMERICAN Idol."