I stared up at my reflection in the mirror, hazel eyes and dirt brown hair staring back at me,
Keep me in check? What did Dad think I was? A puppy? I fucking don’t need an assistant nagging me wherever I went.
I scoffed, Rolling my eyes, I spit into the sink, rinsing my toothbrush hopping the smell of cigarettes on my breath had been dissolved. Moving out of the bathroom I stepped back into my bedroom, the dull dark colors of the suite bearing before me. Rubbing my neck, and the sore spots down the side of it, I trudged toward my bed, taking a seat by the edge. 2 shows in one night had done its best to drain my right out. Leaning over, I put my face into my hands, swaying back just enough to feel dizzy. Opening my eyes again, I stared into nothingness allowing the quiet to settle all around me.
I was alone. For the first time this week I was going to bed alone. And I hated it. I hated being alone, because then I would start to think
IT WAS STRANGE standing in front of a celebrity’s door. I hated to admit it but I was nervous. My paparazzi self was not used to not running, I kind of felt like I was supposed to ding and ditch, but no I had a proper invitation that was why I was allowed through the gate and to where I was standing right now.Knocking on Robin Ryders doors. How frickin awesome was this!Breathe, Makayla breathe. I eased myself.Taking a look at myself I was not completely comfortable with my outward appearance. With some help unwanted from Aunt Molly, she had managed to pick the ‘right dresses for a job interview that I had to say pushed the limits to an extent most girls would consider okay but for me it was completely hideous. I didn’t feel comfortable at all. I kept pulling the bottom down, completely despising how it clutched to my body. All this happened whilst trying to invade Britney which we had failed miserably finally telling her I
I SAT in the kitchen, my left hand twirling the half empty beer can beside me, while the other swiped up, checking through the comments on my latest I*******m post. Something I shouldn't be doing considering the trolls, but who gives a fuck? My life was already one huge mess. Nothing a middle aged, overweight introvert a thousand miles away could tell me that would make me break. There was nothing left to break. I gritted my teeth at that thought, swearing underneath my breath as I read another comment, "Justin Stars a fuck up, he always has been. His voice stopped being good year's ago, his music is trash." Brantwoods321 commented. I scoffed at the comment with a slight eye roll, I could be a better troll than he was. He seriously thought those weak words would get to me? Tell that to the three thousand replies he
My fingers twitched underneath the pillow I was hugging against my chest, chin resting on its tender softness, biting my lip as I offered up the most adorable puppy eyes anyone has ever seen- “No.” My eyes widened at the rejection, gasping as I stared at my cousin in absolute shock, “whaaaaaaaaat?!” I gasped. She hummed in response lifting up two dresses she had been carefully selecting from the wardrobe. “The black one,” I grunted. She looked it over frowning, “but I liked the red one.” “Then why the hell did you show me the black one if you had already made up your mind?” I asked, exasperated, eyes still wide from the rejection. I swear Britney was a handful at times, but what can you do when she’s family? She paused as if thinking it over before shrugging. “Britney!” I hissed, discarding the pillow as I watched her try on the black dress. She didn’t reply as she pulled up the dress on her model like figure, sweeping he
Breathing out I straightened my back, folding my onsie and placing it neatly on bed. Retrieving my phone instead, I swiped through my contacts, hands still shaking from the excitement. “Pick up, pick up, pick up” I muttered as it buzzed. “Makayla are you done?!” Britney yelled from somewhere I couldn’t see, hearing her footsteps head towards the door of my room. I immediately rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, taking a seat on the closed toilet, “Yeah! I’m in the bathroom, give me a sec!” I yelled back. I glanced at my phone, relieved when it flashed and a face popped up, “Ted!” I whispered lowly as he sent me his wide grin. His green eyes lit up like they always did when he was all up in my face, taking all my time. He took off his large headsets, placing his controller down, running a hand through his short curled brown hair, eyebrows arching, “are you in the toilet?” “That’s the first thing you noticed?” I asked watching him smir
The launch party was extremely high class. High over the top ladies and trimmed smart looking men. “C’mon this way,” Britney called moving through the crowd of waiters and the high-class association of A-list Celebrities. I was trying so hard to take in the fabulousity of the whole thing, from the incredible décor to the food and ofcourse the celebrities, millionaires and billionaires alike, I had no idea where to start from. “There he is!” Britney squealed eyes focused on one direction. My eyes trailed to whatever it was she was looking at finally seeing the man himself, Chris Ryder, standing beside a well spread banquet of food, literally stuffing his face in. I watched in slight disgust as he snuck in a treat from the table of delights. “They must have not been feeding it back in England,” I muttered, pulling at my bag strap turning slightly to Britney, “don’t they know you always have to feed it
What the hell just happened? My mind was a blurry mess as I lay underneath the bushes frozen in time, my hand over my mouth unable to recover from the shck of it all. Justin Star had just- Save him! My thoughts screeched from within my mind, begging my body to get up and do something. but I was paralyzed in those ten seconds, unable to believe Justin Star Ryder was unconscious, sinking to the bottom of his own pool with a wound at the back of his head. “Okay, okay,” I breathed out shakily rolling out from underneath the bushes, shakily getting to my feet. I knew what came about with my job description but I never thought I'd ever been in such a [position. breathing heavily still unable to comprehend my situation, I approached the edge of the crimson-colored pool, my heart coming to my throat at the sight of Justin’s blood. “Oh my god,” I gasped my hand finding its way back to mouth again, unable to control any part of my nerves. I couldn't see him th
I touched my bandaged head groaning in pain as Chris fluffed the pillow behind my head, “That’s what you get when you date the wrong girl,” he stated with a slight chuckle. I squinted in the invading sunlight, “the curtains,” I grunted, raising one sore arm toward the intruding sunlight. Day two in this hell hole and I was already sick of it. He closed them taking a seat beside my bed, “you brother, look like shit,” “Why thank you brother, I’ve had worser days. Believe me when I say looking like shit’s an improvement,” I scoffed as he chuckled. Sighing, I gazed upwards at the silver ceiling of the private wing hospital room I had been brought to. “Lucy,” I muttered the bitter name, “I knew she was desperate for me but I didn’t think she was that in love with me,” I suddenly groaned again, touching my head which had developed a splitting headache. “Love?” Chris mocked, “No Justin, Lucy’s a frickin psychopath that is hop
3 weeks later:I should quit drinking.These hangovers were getting worser every time. I wasn’t fooling anyone but myself, I could never quite drinking, I liked the feeling of not existing for a few hours, to get rid of the pain for a glorious second, and because of that, I could bear the headaches with open arms. A great sacrifice must be paid for favor so great.With that thought in mind, I fought over the pounding in my head, succeeding to open my eyes. The first thing to come in sight was the mop of blond hair, lying beside me, her bare back exposed to me, half covered by the light sheet. I stared at the deep red lines that run down her fair skin, images of last night flashing in my mind. Anger, pain…that was all I could see.Turning on my back, I stared up at the white ceiling, remembering the last two weeks. For two weeks I had been better, I had felt better, and promised Clair I was, but the mo
IT WAS STRANGE standing in front of a celebrity’s door. I hated to admit it but I was nervous. My paparazzi self was not used to not running, I kind of felt like I was supposed to ding and ditch, but no I had a proper invitation that was why I was allowed through the gate and to where I was standing right now.Knocking on Robin Ryders doors. How frickin awesome was this!Breathe, Makayla breathe. I eased myself.Taking a look at myself I was not completely comfortable with my outward appearance. With some help unwanted from Aunt Molly, she had managed to pick the ‘right dresses for a job interview that I had to say pushed the limits to an extent most girls would consider okay but for me it was completely hideous. I didn’t feel comfortable at all. I kept pulling the bottom down, completely despising how it clutched to my body. All this happened whilst trying to invade Britney which we had failed miserably finally telling her I
I stared up at my reflection in the mirror, hazel eyes and dirt brown hair staring back at me,Keep me in check? What did Dad think I was? A puppy? I fucking don’t need an assistant nagging me wherever I went.I scoffed, Rolling my eyes, I spit into the sink, rinsing my toothbrush hopping the smell of cigarettes on my breath had been dissolved. Moving out of the bathroom I stepped back into my bedroom, the dull dark colors of the suite bearing before me. Rubbing my neck, and the sore spots down the side of it, I trudged toward my bed, taking a seat by the edge. 2 shows in one night had done its best to drain my right out. Leaning over, I put my face into my hands, swaying back just enough to feel dizzy. Opening my eyes again, I stared into nothingness allowing the quiet to settle all around me.I was alone. For the first time this week I was going to bed alone. And I hated it. I hated being alone, because then I would start to think
Chris POVI walked into the home theater, my eyes skimming across the display of cinema chairs, spotting my father in the front row, eyes focused on the large screen in front of him with his 3d glasses on. Approaching him, I noticed he was dressed in casual clothing, bright colors being favored with his famous cane propped in between his legs. I chuckled to myself as I drew closer, unable to comprehend, how a man in his late sixties managed to look so good in a Hawaiian t-shirt and light blue shorts.Taking a seat beside him, I drilled into his popcorn, the taste of sweet butter soon hanging on my lips, sighing as I leaned back, my eyes settling on the movie that was being screened.That felt better.“So Valeria was the Sandix all along?!” Dad asked astonished, turning to face me after the movie had finished, his eyebrows drawn together.I nodded in reply.“But-but she was a guardian,” he countered.A grin played a
“Do you think I’m a bitch for taking the offer?’ I casually asked Ted, leaning back as I watched him take a sip of his smoothie. He looked back at me raising an eyebrow like the perfect pro he was, as if surprised I was asking, not as if I hadn’t just told him everything about the supposed ‘job offer’ and making it top three in the Selection during lunch. He hummed, shrugging. My jaw dropped, throwing down my napkin, “you think I’m a bitch!” I gasped.He almost choked on his smoothie, putting it down for safety sake shaking his head immediately, “whoa, hold on. I didn’t say that. Those words didn’t come out of my mouth,” he defended.“Please,” I scoffed with a slight eye role, “you don’t have to say it, that face is the only thing you need to make it clear to me,” I huffed.“Firstly,” he began, sitting straighter, his impressive athletic shoulder build covering an large part of the booth we were seated in whilst having lunch, “You can be a scary thug above
I stared at the shiny silver surfaces of the elevator doors, glancing down at the buttons to see how many floors it would take before I could reach the office. The doors dinged and slid open revealing the cubicle offices that lined the office.I took a deep breath in, sighing. Just how I like it. The smell of gossip and sweat, yep there was something brewing. Walking past the cubicles, nodding to my fellow co-workers I turned around sharply at the sound of my name.“Mckayla! Hey! Over Here!” Ted called, sliding out of his cubicle, his hair a ruffled mess, a football in one hand. My eyebrows furrowed, walking towards him, “weren’t you over there?” I asked, pointing to the elevator doors, leaning against the table.He grinned, “Ha. Ha, I get it, “ he chuckled, placing the football on the desk, “because I’m not a full time member of the close up, so technically I don’t belong here?“ he asked“Exactly…so...” I trailed off, glancing at the magazine with the
3 weeks later:I should quit drinking.These hangovers were getting worser every time. I wasn’t fooling anyone but myself, I could never quite drinking, I liked the feeling of not existing for a few hours, to get rid of the pain for a glorious second, and because of that, I could bear the headaches with open arms. A great sacrifice must be paid for favor so great.With that thought in mind, I fought over the pounding in my head, succeeding to open my eyes. The first thing to come in sight was the mop of blond hair, lying beside me, her bare back exposed to me, half covered by the light sheet. I stared at the deep red lines that run down her fair skin, images of last night flashing in my mind. Anger, pain…that was all I could see.Turning on my back, I stared up at the white ceiling, remembering the last two weeks. For two weeks I had been better, I had felt better, and promised Clair I was, but the mo
I touched my bandaged head groaning in pain as Chris fluffed the pillow behind my head, “That’s what you get when you date the wrong girl,” he stated with a slight chuckle. I squinted in the invading sunlight, “the curtains,” I grunted, raising one sore arm toward the intruding sunlight. Day two in this hell hole and I was already sick of it. He closed them taking a seat beside my bed, “you brother, look like shit,” “Why thank you brother, I’ve had worser days. Believe me when I say looking like shit’s an improvement,” I scoffed as he chuckled. Sighing, I gazed upwards at the silver ceiling of the private wing hospital room I had been brought to. “Lucy,” I muttered the bitter name, “I knew she was desperate for me but I didn’t think she was that in love with me,” I suddenly groaned again, touching my head which had developed a splitting headache. “Love?” Chris mocked, “No Justin, Lucy’s a frickin psychopath that is hop
What the hell just happened? My mind was a blurry mess as I lay underneath the bushes frozen in time, my hand over my mouth unable to recover from the shck of it all. Justin Star had just- Save him! My thoughts screeched from within my mind, begging my body to get up and do something. but I was paralyzed in those ten seconds, unable to believe Justin Star Ryder was unconscious, sinking to the bottom of his own pool with a wound at the back of his head. “Okay, okay,” I breathed out shakily rolling out from underneath the bushes, shakily getting to my feet. I knew what came about with my job description but I never thought I'd ever been in such a [position. breathing heavily still unable to comprehend my situation, I approached the edge of the crimson-colored pool, my heart coming to my throat at the sight of Justin’s blood. “Oh my god,” I gasped my hand finding its way back to mouth again, unable to control any part of my nerves. I couldn't see him th
The launch party was extremely high class. High over the top ladies and trimmed smart looking men. “C’mon this way,” Britney called moving through the crowd of waiters and the high-class association of A-list Celebrities. I was trying so hard to take in the fabulousity of the whole thing, from the incredible décor to the food and ofcourse the celebrities, millionaires and billionaires alike, I had no idea where to start from. “There he is!” Britney squealed eyes focused on one direction. My eyes trailed to whatever it was she was looking at finally seeing the man himself, Chris Ryder, standing beside a well spread banquet of food, literally stuffing his face in. I watched in slight disgust as he snuck in a treat from the table of delights. “They must have not been feeding it back in England,” I muttered, pulling at my bag strap turning slightly to Britney, “don’t they know you always have to feed it