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Post by whatsername on Aug 6, 2005 21:12:32 GMT -5
Being evil is not necessarily a bad thing, but an attribute to a good.
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Post by TABBY on Aug 6, 2005 21:25:32 GMT -5
uh huh, your just saying that because you are EVIL!!! *makes cross with fingers*
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Post by whatsername on Aug 6, 2005 23:28:29 GMT -5
Here is Part Six, on Page Six, written on August Sixth, on Saturday, the Sixth day of the week. ************************************************************************
Part Six
“You’re so lucky!”
“Can you get me an autograph?”
“I wish I was you!”
People followed me around all day on Tuesday, congratulating me. But I knew deep down they were willing to kill me right about now to be in my place. It was hard to concentrate on classes, but then again, it was always hard to concentrate on math.
“Excuse me, could I borrow Ms. Clore for a minute?” Mr. Louis asked, popping his head through the door.
My math teacher nodded, and I was more than happy to get out of there. I gave Erin an apologetic look for leaving her behind to suffer.
“I want you to know that I chose you to do this because I think it is something you could do well in,” Mr. Louis said, walking down the hallway with me. I just nodded.
“This is a big chance. An opportunity. I want you to show them what you can do. You have great potential, take advantage of this experience. Don’t let this big chance slip by,” he continued, locking his hands behind his back.
He was talking to me as if I was his favorite student, a creation of his genius. His…prodigy child. He suddenly turned to me and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“I want you to do your best. You can do anything you want! Accomplish great things!” he said feverishly.
I looked at him as if he were crazy. He quickly let go of my shoulders.
“Don’t worry, sir. I know this is a rare opportunity. It’s not like you get constant nagging phone calls from these guys everyday, right?” I asked seriously. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You think I’ll need these?” I asked Erin, holding up a pair of shorts.
“Probably. Remember, you’ll be traveling all over the U.S. You need to be prepared for any kind of weather,” Erin said reasonably, adding them to my suitcase.
We continued packing my various belongings into the suitcase I was borrowing from Erin. She had said I needed a ‘proper one, not that ragged old duffel bag’. I didn’t refuse. I was using hers. It was small enough to be used as a carry on, yet not so small that I couldn’t fit all my junk.
“I can’t stand to have them put my guitar on that plane, out of my sight and reach,” I said, zipping up my green Strat into its gig bag.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that…,” Erin said, leafing through my clothes.
“Have you put any thought into what you are going to wear on stage?” she asked.
“Um…no?” I said.
She sighed.
“Come on, we’re going shopping,” she said, grabbing me by the hand.
“We’re WHAT?” I asked. I only had time to grab my wallet before we were out the door.
In less than an hour, I had spent $200, and was carrying six bags. Erin was having the time of her life, stuffing me into dressing room after dressing room and throwing clothes she liked over the door for me to try on. It was complete and utter torture…
“Wasn’t that fun?” she asked lightly, as we headed back up to the school in the gently falling snow.
“No,” I grumbled. My wallet felt a lot lighter, but my arms were full. Those had been nearly all of my savings.
We were silent for a few minutes as we headed through the iron gates of Earenson.
“You’re so lucky,” she said unexpectedly.
I groaned.
“Don’t you start with that as well!” I said, my breath rising in a cloud. It just got colder and colder up here…
“But you are! Not only do you get to play on stage, but you also get out of classes for a MONTH. And, you get to be rid of Christina as well,” she said, exasperated.
“Oh, come on. Everybody knows November is a slack-off kind of month. I mean, this is the time of year when teachers are in a slump, going through their mid-life crisis, thinking about why the hell they ever wanted to teach these bratty kids. And Christina…well, if she gets too annoying, just chuck her out the window. Maybe you’ll get a new roommate. That’s what Diana did with her drums, and it worked!” I said.
Erin laughed.
“You’re still lucky,” she said.
I didn’t say anything. We went up the stairs and into our room. We both went to sleep early; I wanted to be ready for the day tomorrow. It was gonna be one hell of a ride.
“Lucky, lucky, lucky…,” Erin muttered into the darkness, before drifting off to sleep.
I burrowed my self further under the covers and wrapped my mothers’ chain around my finger.
“I know,” I whispered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You’ll land in New York at around eight o’clock. It’s a pretty short flight. You sure you’ll be okay by yourself?” Mrs. Greene asked, handing me my ticket.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said, as I readjusted my guitar bag.
“You’ll do wonderful. I know it,” she said motherly. I smiled.
Earenson had sent Mrs. Greene to accompany me to the airport. I had said good bye to Erin that morning, and told her to call me everyday, and she had told me to keep her updated on where the hell I was.
“I think I should go…plane leaves in half an hour,” I said. It was six a.m. and I was very tired.
“Alright…have fun!” she said, patting me on the back. I thanked her, and walked across the parking lot towards the gray building.
The warmth of the airport was welcome, the security was not. After I had checked in, I went through the metal detector, and my belt set it off. They pulled me off to the side and scanned me with a hand metal detector.
It went off every time it went over my studded belt, and I finally convinced them that I wasn’t hiding any guns. Then they found my guitar bag…They opened it because they saw ‘strange, sharp, metal objects’. I raised an eyebrow at this. They unzipped the bag and searched it thoroughly. Finally, they picked up the guitar itself and looked at it closely.
“It’s a GUITAR. An ELECTRIC guitar. They have METAL strings!” I said desperately. If I didn’t hurry up, I was going to miss my plane.
“And besides, I’m not even bringing it on board. It’s going in cargo,” I said. They didn’t find anything, and they sent it off to be put on the plane. If they did anything to it, I swear, I will sue each and every one of them.
“Here you go,” the man said, handing me my ticket receipt.
“Thanks,” I said, hurrying down the corridor and onto the plane. I was one of the last people on, but was glad to have an aisle seat, so that I didn’t have to squeeze past anyone.
I rubbed my temples and heaved a sigh as the plane took off. Who was going to be there to pick me up? I doubt THEY would come in person, I mean, they would be trampled by crazy fans.
I slept most of the way there, but the pilots’ voice announcing our descent woke me. I glanced out of the window. Gray. Dark, gray clouds.
We had a bit of turbulence, and landed roughly because of the thunderstorm brewing out side. The man next to me had grabbed the arm rests of his chair fearfully, knuckles white.
As a flight attendant told us we could unbuckle and leave the plane single file, I pulled my rolling suitcase out of the luggage rack and waited patiently as all the passengers crammed into the tiny aisle.
As I walked out of the gate, I turned to look out of the high windows of the airport. Lightning lit up the dark sky. I walked around, trying to find someone who looked like THEY were looking for someone.
I heard several people groan and mutter angrily as flights were announced as delayed. I saw no one who seemed to be there to meet me. So, I decided to head to the baggage claim, so that I could at least find comfort in having my guitar back at my side.
I wrestled my way through the crowd, and several people stepped on my feet. Baggage claim was no better. The carousel was turning slowly as people spotted their bags and lifted them off the belt. They all looked the same. At least mine didn’t. It only took a minute before I saw my case turning the corner. I pushed my way through the crowd and lifted the bag up by its strap, and hooked it around my shoulder. Maybe now the person who was picking me up would be able to recognize me more easily, I thought, heading out of the crowd and into the open.
“Excuse me, are you Karla Clore?” a man in a suit and chauffer hat asked politely.
“Yes…and you are?” I asked nervously. I didn’t want to be taken away by some psycho.
He smiled warmly.
“I am Vince, I am here to pick you up and bring you to your hotel,” he said kindly.
“Oh, thank you…and what hotel would that be?” I asked, as he took my suitcase.
“The Rihga Royal, of course,” he said, heading for the airports’ glass doors and the rain that was threatening to fall outside.
I nearly dropped my guitar.
“The Rihga Royal???” I asked incredulously.
“Yes,” he said, stowing my suitcase in the back of his black Cadillac. It was cold outside, and I shivered. Wow. A five star hotel. Maybe this trip did have some advantages, I thought, getting into the back seat of the car as Vince held open the door for me. I was so not used to this kind of treatment.
I stayed silent the entire ride, as we entered traffic. I stared out the tinted window, resting my chin in my hand, thinking. What was I going to say to Billie Joe? I couldn’t exactly ignore him now that I would have to WORK with him. Maybe I could learn to forgive him? Ease up on him? Relax a little? Maybe I should just act indifferently…act as if nothing had happened?
‘But something did happen!’ a voice said angrily in my mind. My mood darkened with the weather, and only lifted as we entered the city. New York was amazing. Lights everywhere, and so many people. So many different people. There were so many shops and restaurants…
We drove for about ten more minutes until we reached a very refined area of the city.
Vince opened the door for me again as I stepped out of the car. The Rihga Royal sure as hell was royal. The place had fancy written all over it. A man in a dark purple coat took my suit case and brought it inside for me. I thanked Vince, and he drove away. I followed the man to the front desk.
“I’m checking in,” I said.
“Name?”
“Karla Clore.”
The woman typed at her computer.
“Here you go. Ninth floor. I hope you have a nice stay,” she said, handing me a key card.
“Thanks,” I said, heading for the elevator. The man followed with my suit case.
The people who got on the elevator were all dressed up in nice suits and expensive dresses. I stood out in my jeans and new Fender hoodie.
I was glad to get away from all the stares as we reached the ninth floor. Room 309 was mine, and I swiped the card through the lock and went inside my grand room, holding the door open for the man who laid my case down on the bed. I thanked him, and he left. I dumped my guitar case on the bed as well, and sat on it.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? I was starving. It was 8:45 a.m., and I hadn’t had anything to eat. I’m sure this place had a continental breakfast, being as big as it was…or room service, I thought, grinning mischievously at the phone. My legs felt tired, so I thought I would go for a little walk back downstairs, so I could eat. I went into the huge bathroom and washed my face, reapplying my eye liner and mascara. I walked out of my room, making sure I had my key card with me before closing the door. I turned around just as I heard voices coming down the hall.
“I hope it’s a girl,” Tre said, smiling. Billie Joe and Mike rolled their eyes.
“Whoever it is, they are here to learn, not to fool around,” Mike told him.
“What room was the person supposed to be in?” Billie Joe asked, glancing at the doors as they walked down the carpeted hallway.
“309,” I shouted down the hall at him.
“What the fuck?!” he said, stopping dead when he spotted me.
“Holy shit! It’s you! Oh my fucking God!” Tre said, running down the hallway, picking me up and twirling me around. He hugged me tightly, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Help me!” I said to Mike and Billie Joe as they finally reached me.
“Okay Tre, let her down,” Mike said. Tre unceremoniously dropped me to my feet. I staggered slightly.
“I can’t believe its you!” Mike said.
“I can’t either,” I sighed.
“What? Aren’t you excited?” Billie Joe asked me. I looked at him.
“I didn’t sign up for this, my friend signed me up without me knowing. I’m here against my will,” I said simply.
Billie Joe stared at me. I stared back. Bastard…
“I’m hungry!” Tre said, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Me too,” I said, not breaking eye contact with Billie.
“Then let’s go,” Billie Joe said, our eyes still locked. Mike fidgeted.
Neither of us moved.
“Okay, lets break it up,” Mike said, taking me by the arm and leading me down the hall. This was going to be a horrible breakfast…
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Post by TABBY on Aug 6, 2005 23:55:31 GMT -5
lol, when tre picked her up i had that image in my head that made me laugh my ass off. lol, oh no, PLEASE PLEASE DON'T FREAK OUT ON TOUR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, anyway, PLEASE UPDATE
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Post by makeshiftwings56 on Aug 7, 2005 0:15:41 GMT -5
Uh-oh! Trouble in the land!!! *plops down in the corner* We're back to this.
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Post by brokenwings on Aug 7, 2005 1:17:40 GMT -5
Hahaha, I can just picture Tre doing that!!! Ya gotta write more soon.. or i might do something crazy!!! *shifty eyes*
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Post by xX*Sophie*Xx on Aug 7, 2005 3:16:58 GMT -5
Yaaaay tis so cool! *Joins makeshiftwings56 in the corner*
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Post by TABBY on Aug 7, 2005 9:10:46 GMT -5
i've been in this corner FOR 2 DAYS!!!!!, and the sad part is ITS FUN!! ;D, ok im fine....i think.
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Post by whatsername on Aug 7, 2005 10:01:49 GMT -5
*eye twitches* Okay, you guys are weird. But, I know you need my help, and through my amazing generosity, I will update tonight.
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Post by TABBY on Aug 7, 2005 10:29:28 GMT -5
YAY
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Post by makeshiftwings56 on Aug 7, 2005 14:27:25 GMT -5
Why thank you. We will refrain from going insane then.
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Post by whatsername on Aug 7, 2005 21:02:38 GMT -5
I'm SO sorry. I lied earlier today. I will not be updating tonight. I don't have any idea about what to write right now, so I'm gonna go jogging in the dark like I always do, listening to Green Day, waiting for inspiration.
I'm REALLY sorry. To vent your anger, feel free to call me any name under the stars.
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Post by TABBY on Aug 7, 2005 21:07:30 GMT -5
*runs to corner and starts banging head up against wall*
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Post by whatsername on Aug 7, 2005 22:41:29 GMT -5
Idiots....
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