FAME; In Sync

It is a Sunday afternoon at a mall just south of Washington, and hundreds of Destiny's Child fans, most of them young and black, have crowded into an atrium between a Hallmark store and a J. C. Penney. Occasionally erupting into spontaneous cheers of ''We want D.C., we want D.C.,'' they have gathered for a local radio-station promotion for the group, and even those who know they have no chance of getting anywhere near the girls, as they are known, still throng, disposable cameras at the ready.

Suddenly, a young woman with long copper braids bounds through the crowd and grabs a microphone. ''Come on, y'all, make some noise for me,'' she insists. It is Solange Knowles, the younger sister of Beyoncé, Destiny's Child's center of gravity.

The girls, wearing tight, crotch-skimming jeans, high-heeled sandals and little pink tops, make their way to the front. Michelle Williams, the newest member of the group, takes the mike and introduces Solange as an up-and-coming artist in the stable of Music World Management, which is owned by Solange and Beyoncé's father, Mathew. Then Michelle leads the crowd in a call-and-response of the group's current self-esteem builder, ''Survivor.'' ''Beyoncé wrote that song for a reason,'' she tells the gathered faithful. ''You can make it. God loves you!''

The mythology of Destiny's Child is that they are strong, independent women in control of their lives, and it is saturated with a kind of sisters-doing-it-for-each-other positivity. They are partners, and their wealth and attention are shared equally. Kelly Rowland and Michelle have each said, on numerous occasions, that Beyoncé insisted they all take turns singing lead. ''Ain't nobody money-hungry or stealing money or doing any of that mess,'' Michelle recently told Jet magazine.

But the reality of Destiny's Child is that Beyoncé is the magnet. The band originally had four members, Beyoncé and Kelly and two other girls, but it was always a Knowles-family operation, with the family's fair-haired daughter in the spotlight. Chafing under that arrangement, the two other girls left in a huff and were replaced last year by Michelle. At the mall, it is Beyoncé whom the fans have come to see, Beyoncé whose poster they want signed, Beyoncé whose beauty and manner hypnotize supplicant after supplicant to utter the mantra, ''You're so pretty.'' As she speechlessly nurses a hoarse throat on this particular day, she appears not to lord this power over anybody, preferring, perhaps, to see it as simply the love and will of God.

Much later in the day, the girls are in their dressing room, a battered space furnished with a collection of low, plush couches and embroidered pillows that travel along with them, giving the effect of a Moroccan tent grafted onto an interrogation room. Beyoncé is sitting on the floor, picking desultorily at a plate of food, Michelle is lounging on a couch and Kelly is searching fruitlessly for ''lady protection.'' Tina Knowles, Beyoncé's mother and the group's stylist, is hand-sewing rhinestone trim onto a costume.