You may remember Kina Grannis.

In 2008, she won a singing contest. Made a video watched by 97 million Super Bowl fans. And got a record contract with Interscope Records – home of the Black Eyed Peas and No Doubt.

Overnight, the Mission Viejo waitress’s wildest dreams came true, right? Well, not exactly.

Two Super Bowls later: No CD. No tour. No Big Splash.

“Every time I told someone what I did,” says Grannis, 24, sipping coffee in a West Hollywood Starbucks, “they were like, ‘You did what? You’re crazy.'”

Instead of a major tour, her career took a major detour.

Or did it?

MESSAGE FROM HER HEART

When her song aired during Super Bowl XLII, Grannis says, “My heart almost fell out of my body. I broke down for like five minutes, hugging people and just crying.”

The next day, her face adorned full-page ads in USA TODAY. And her song, “Message From Your Heart,” – recorded in one take in front of her laptop computer – shot into the iTunes Top 30.

Her euphoria lasted three months. That’s when her label suggested their songwriters help Grannis write an album.

“While it could’ve been a nice album,” she says, “I already had an entire album written. Those songs meant a lot to me.”

And not just her.

They meant a lot to “Kination,” her legion of 140,000 online fans, who’ve made her the 31st “most-subscribed to” YouTube musician of all time. Ahead of U2, Mariah Carey, Kelly Clarkson. And based, almost entirely, on songs recorded at home, in front of her laptop computer.

Grannis felt torn. In one hand, she held hundreds of thousands of dollars in big-time backing – instant fame. In the other, she held a thin stack of her own songs. She asked her online fans for advice.

Play your own music, they said. We’re behind you 100 percent.

Grannis took that as a message … from her heart. And walked away from a major label.

GOING IT ALONE

Crumpled posters.

It is four days before her CD-release party – already postponed five times. But if she doesn’t fix this shipping problem herself, fans will get crumpled $10 posters.

“It’s all up to me now,” she says.

Actually, it’s up to her, her sisters and parents, who help with everything.

“I call (sister) Emi when I want to cry,” Grannis says. “And I call my parents when I have a decision to make.”

She reads more than 200 fan e-mails a day. Writes 100. She Tweets. Facebooks. Blogs. YouTubes. Posts homemade music videos with Happy Birthdays and shout-outs to fans.

She’s nurtured an intensely personal relationship with her fans, but the more popular she gets, the more exacting its price.

“Lately, I’ve had zero time for music,” she says. “I need every second to make this the most successful release it can be.”

She spent her life savings to record the new CD, “Stairwells.” With it came a flood of self-doubts for the singer who chose to go it alone.

“What if I spent all this time and money and it’s not any good?” she asks. “What if my fans don’t like the album?”

Excuse us, but if you’ve ever met a “Kinerd,” (and get ready, because you’re about to), well, that’s one problem she can cross off her list right now.

KINAMANIA!

Two days early, they start flying in from Australia. Finland. Canada. New York. New Jersey. Driving up from Vegas and down from the Bay.

This for an unsigned singer who doesn’t even have a publicist. Or a booking agent. For a singer whose mother baked cookies for the event!

“Kinerds,” they call themselves. And “Kination.” The name tags, goody bags and awards they’re preparing are for “KinaCon,” a convention they’ve planned around her release party.

“I know,” says early arriver Alison Cosker, an Australian university teacher. “It sounds like a Star Trek convention. Or a cult.”

And at first it does.

These are fans who write Grannis’s name on school chalkboards – in Poland. Who play Kina Grannis CDs for passersby – in Paris. And leave Post-its with her name on trees – in Japan.

But then you hear how they all pitched in to buy a Finnish fan’s airplane ticket to this week’s party. How they send care packages to troops in Iraq and Kuwait. How they chat online with Grannis’ mom (“Mama G”) and dad (“Dr. G”) and sisters Emi and Misa.

“I’ve never met them in person,” says Army Sgt. Fabian Gloria, in Kuwait, “but it feels like we’re best friends.”

And then there are moments like this…

PART OF THE JOURNEY

“Bum-bum,” is the sound of a heart.

Grannis sings this near the end of “Message From Your Heart.”

Every time you laugh – bum-bum, bum-bum…

Every time you cry – bum-bum, bum-bum…

“I remember when I wrote that song, sitting alone in my bedroom, hoping someday people would sing this with me,” she says.

On Saturday, Feb. 27, they did – all 300 strong at the Dakota Lounge in Santa Monica.

“The buildup, the electricity, of waiting for that line,” recalls Cosker who stood in front. “I leaned over the stage and said, ‘Oh God, this is going to kill me.’ I couldn’t help but cry.”

Grannis herself could hardly sing the line.

“I was so overwhelmed with gratitude and excitement,” she says. “There was so much history in that moment.”

Tucked inside those few heartbeats was an unknown coffee-shop waitress singing in front her laptop computer and, possibly, a star waiting to emerge – on her own terms.

“It was more than singing along to a song in the car,” says Cosker. “It was part of Kina’s journey.”

Within a few days, Grannis’s self-made CD would hit #25 on iTunes and debut at #139 on the Billboard 200. With no more promotion than “kinerds” writing her name on chalkboards and in the snow and on Post-its left in trees.

“It felt like the beginning,” says Cosker.

In more ways than one.

Contact the writer: 714-796-6979 ortberg@ocregister.com