"I am ruthless. I am marvelous. I am strong. I am Iris."
I speak these words to my reflection, with memories of black, mascara-tainted tears and a broken heart, flooding through my brain. But that was all in my past. My singing career is not the same; no more high-school singing clubs to remind me of you. I was the best of the best; Vocal Adrenaline's star: Iris Taylor. I was graced with all the solos, that is, until Jesse came along. Then we became an unstoppable force, a perfect duet. But all that rehersing and private practices changed something in us, and it is what I call love.
But that was the past. I can't even bring myself to even utter his name. It's like poison on my tongue that kills me every time it is spoken. Jesse St. James is a liar and a cheat and I will do anything in my power to make sure that I never see his face again. Even if it meant moving across the country. And I did.
Now I am back and today marks the first day of my new school, but I will not be brought down by joining the local glee club; especially since it is Vocal Adrenaline's long time rival, New Directions. No, I will not stoop so low as to join in their league of ammature singers. I am too good for that.
I strutted down the hallways, hearing my black leather-esque high heels clicking on the linoluim floor. Scanning the numbers on the lockers, I dodged students as I searched for locker number 173. Finally, after about five minutes of looking, I found it, put in my combination, and opened it, revealing a dull, empty metal compartment.
Ew, I have to do something about this, I thought as I emptied my fresh new notebooks and binders into it.
"Uhm, excuse me? Are you new here?" I cringed at the peppy, annoying voice as I was greeted.
I turned to see that the owner of the voice belonged to none other than my old rival, Rachel Berry. I narrowed my eyes and chuckled.
"Yeah, I'm new here. What do you want from me?"
Rachel looked confused. She obviously didn't recognize that I was the girl who beat her every single competition since she was little.
"My name is Rachel, Rachel Berry. You look really familiar, do I know you from somewhere?"
"I'm Iris Taylor. You tell me."
Her eyes widened in shock, then dissolved into a mix of anger and envy, "Well, Iris, it's been a while."
"That it has." I replied, shutting my locker rather loudly.
A man who looked to be in his twenties or so approached Rachel rather cheerfully.
"Hey, Rachel, did you learn the solo for today's meeting?" He asked.
"Rach, a solo? How'd you manage that one?" I chuckled, folding my arms across my chest.
"Well, if you haven't heard yet, I'm the best singer in this school." She said, anger lacing her voice.
"Are you a new student?" The older man asked me, smiling.
"Oh, yes, I just moved here; today is my first day. Could you point me in the direction of the auditorium? I have a band practice there in a few minutes."
"Band practice? Wait, are you Iris Taylor?"
"That I am."
"Wow, you're amazing! Here, let me show you the way."
I cast Rachel an evil smile before following the teacher to the auditorium.
"So why didn't you go back to Vocal Adrenaline? Why'd you come here?"
"Complications. I hate Vocal Adrenaline. They can all kiss my ass."
"I see, so are you thinking about joining New Directions?"
"No. Never. I don't hate them that much."
"Well we do have one student here that just transferred from VA."
My heart stopped beating. It can't be him. Please don't let it be him.
"..Who?"
"His name is Jesse St. James, ring a bell?"
"No Glee club for me. Sorry, sir. Wait, what was your name again?"
"Mr. Schuester; I teach Spanish."
"I think I have you third block. I'll see you then."
I practically ran into the auditorium and sprinted to the stage, my heels clicking against the floor. My band was already doing a sound check. The guitarist who I've had an on and off relationship with jumped off and started towards me.
"Iris, what took you so long?" He flipped his straight black hair out of his face, revealing beautiful green eyes.
"Sorry, Kyle, I got held up at my locker. Let's tear shit up; I'm need to sing, now."
I climbed onto the stage, not caring that I was wearing a black leather tube dress and that anyone could see up it. I stood in my spot and turned on the mic.
"Test, test." I sang into it; it seemed to be working fine.
The music started, playing the beginning of Playing God, by the band Paramore.
I opened my mouth and gave it everything I got.
"Can't make my own decisions or make any with precision Wo-o-o-ho-oh You don't have to believe me If God's the game that you're playing Wo-o-o-ho-oh You don't have to believe me This is the last second chance I know you don't believe me I know you won't believe me
Well, maybe you should tie me up so I don't go where you don't want me
You say that I've been changing, that I'm not just simply aging
Yeah, how could that be logical?
Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger... I'll point you to the mirror
Well, we must get more acquainted
Because it has to be so lonely... to be the only one who's holy
It's just my humble opinion, but it's one that I believe in
You don't deserve a point of view, if the only thing you see is you
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger... I'll point you to the mirror
(I'll point you to the mirror)
I'm half as good as it gets
(I'll point you to the mirror)
I'm on both sides of the fence
(I'll point you to the mirror)
Without a hint of regret... I'll hold you to it
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger... I'll point you to the mirror
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger... I'll point you to the mirror."
I felt alive for the first time since I entered this building. My chin-length, platinum blonde hair was disheveled from whipping it wildly about. I was born to be a performer, a star. My smile stretched from ear to ear and I could still feel my heart pounding in my chest as a single appause began.
"Bravo, Iris."