Juggling two glasses of iced tea and a plate of cheese, pickles 'n' crackers, the Latina girl walks onto the patio, the cement warm on her bare feet. She presses her pearly white teeth into her pink, bottom lip as she skillfully sets one glass next to her best friend and another next to the spot where she would soon sit. The plate slides off her forearm and clinks into her best friend's glass.
The Latina drops down onto her lawn chair, legs stretched out in front of her. Yeah, it did feel really nice to be graduated, she thought to herself. Trish reached over to the radio sitting beneath the table and clicked on her favourite station. The brunette sitting in the other lawn chair slides her sunglasses up into her hair, getting a proper look at the plate of food. Her eyes seem to subconsciously sparkle at the sight of pickles.
"Aren't you glad it's over?" asked the Latina, not shy to admit that she really hated school. She was still peeling off her 'Hi, My Name is Trish' nametag that was stuck on her tank top. That beach party wasn't that funny anyway and she couldn't begin to tell anybody about how exciting it was to know that there were no more lame high school parties. She wasn't a good girl, but she hated the parties. They always reeked of sweat, alcohol, and people who thought they were brought up in some special way when, really, nobody was more special than Trish. (This would be the part when her best friend would smack her and tell her she needs to learn selflessness.)
"What? School?" questioned the pickle-eating brunette. "I loved school."
"Yeah, Ally, because you were good at it." scoffed the Latina, then reaching for her cup and taking a sip of her cool drink.
"So were you." Ally gave Trish a glance before munching down on another pickle.
"In comparison to you?" she retorted, giving out a loud and swift hah!
Ally shook her head. She knew she was intelligent, but she didn't like discussing it too much. Ever since her parents bragged to all the other parents about her smart's, Ally had concluded that she would never talk about it the way they did. It was kind of annoying, too.
"I'm kind of sad that it's over." Ally voiced, resting her head back against the lawn chair as she gazed out at her backyard's pool. "I mean, what am I supposed to do now? Live my life at Sonic Boom? School was all I had, excluding you, that actually kept me from having a mental breakdown. I don't want to work the rest of my life. School was the only place I could go to where I wasn't working my tail off. School was kind of fun."
Trish's eye brows knit together. She sits up straight and twists in her seat to frown over at her best friend. "What about Julliard?" she questioned.
Ally shook her head, removing the iced tea glass away from her lips and setting it down on the small table next to her. "I'm not going."
Trish feels the shock all over her body. "What?"
Ally shrugged, "Well, I don't know, I don't really think I belong there. I guess I could go to NYU but I just...I don't know, I'm not feeling it. There's nothing there for me either."
"Ally, there's tons there for you at Julliard! What about Music University of New York? Ally, everything you could ask for is there for you! Don't tell me you're seriously going to let these opportunities just fly by you so you can sit in your parent's music store for the rest of your life." Trish said.
"I'm really not feeling it. I'm comfortable at Sonic Boom. Maybe I could ask for a raise soon, earn more money. I could even start my own music sessions, teach people how to play different instruments, I don't know, but I don't think I belong at those schools." Ally admitted.
Trish stared at Ally with her jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding me. Ally, you've got what it takes to be a student at NYU. You'd be the perfect fit at MUNY and you'd kill it at Julliard. So, don't even attempt to pull that bull on anyone."
Ally sighed, "Trish, I'm serious."
"So am I!" exclaimed the Latina, "Ally, you are not the average songwriter. You write amazing music, you have awesome vocals, you can practically play the piano and guitar with your eyes closed. Heck, Ally, you're so good, you could be famous! Why don't you ever think about that? Maybe college and university isn't for you, but you could do something with your music-"
"Trish, I am not selling my music to anyone." Ally replied firmly.
Trish grunted, "Ally, Why do you always have to be so difficult?"
"I'm not being difficult." Ally disputed.
Trish sighed. It fell silent besides the faded sound of the radio. Trish couldn't believe somebody as successful as Ally could be so...what's the word... Dumb? Difficult? Stupid? She shook her head. Ally could practically feel Trish's resentment to her decision. It was radiating off of her like steam from a hot kettle of water.
Maybe Ally's decision was rash and not well thought out. After all, she really didn't want to be working for her mother and father for the rest of her life. She bit the inside of her cheek until the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. She opened her mouth, about to admit to Trish that maybe she should reconsider this when she suddenly recognizes a melody playing from the radio. She closes her mouth and frowns as she ponders her thoughts as to why she recognizes this. Perhaps, she's heard the song before? No, it was a little different. It sounded like...
The singer sings lyrics that are way too familiar, like, way too familiar. Not in the kind of context where the words sound familiar because she's listened to the song several times, but in the way like she'd thought of them herself. Ally's face pales over as she slowly directs her stare down to the radio.
Trish cocks her head to the side. It kinda sounds like the song Ally had sung for her last week. "Ally is that..." No, it couldn't be...could it?
Word for word, Ally knows it well enough to sing along! The chorus pounds through the radio speakers and Ally jumps up. "Trish! That's my song! Who is singing my song?" Ally demands, her vision seeing red with anger and her heart thumping with panic.
"Calm down, Ally!" Trish exclaims, pulling out her iPhone. She knows better than to accuse Ally of plagiarizing any song. Ally was too original and honest for that. Ally quickly says the name of the song and Trish's iPhone searches the web for answers.
Trish's eyes fall upon the correct answers, "Oh, oh! I got it!" Trish said, looking at Ally before looking down to her phone, "Some guy named Austin Moon released it a couple days ago. There's not a lot updated about him, I guess he must be a new celebrity or something."
"Well?" Ally pressed, still looking for more. Her eyes were wide and frantic. How could somebody just take her song like that? How could it happen?
"Um..." Trish scrolled the web. "Well, he's from Miami-"
"-We live in Miami!" Ally gasps.
"Apparently the song has gotten millions of views and positive feedback. They're saying that he's looking like the next Justin Bieber but better." Trish said.
"What!" Ally screeched, fuming.
"Oh, here's a picture-" Trish's eyes popped slightly and her mouth became an 'O' shape. "Wow," she laughed a little breathlessly as she glanced up at Ally and then down to the photo of him, "He's really kinda cute."
Angrily, Ally snatched the phone from Trish and looked at the screen. She saw the kind eyes and messy blonde hair. Ally seethed. "No freaking way!" she howled, giving Trish an incredulous look and then looked back at the phone, "I know this guy! He came into Sonic Boom last week and told me he was looking for a new guitar! I can't believe this!"
"Maybe it was an accident?" Trish guessed, suddenly feeling more lenient to accept an apology if he was ever given one. Ally gave her a look. "Come on, Ally, look at his face!"
"I don't want to!" Ally yelled, throwing Trish's phone at her and then tearing off into her house.
"Ally, wait!" Trish shouted and ran after her best friend. She found Ally tugging on a white t-shirt over her bikini top. "What are you doing?"
"I am going to find this song stealing bandit!" Ally growled.
Trish slowly looked back at the phone, "Well, you're probably going to want to pack a bag or something. He's in New York. He got some record deal there."
Ally looked down at herself before she walked over to a closet and pulled out a suitcase. "I'm going to New York!" she announced. "Wait," Ally suddenly said, "How did you know he was in New York so quickly?"
Trish timidly replied, "He already has his own page. I might have subscribed to it."
"Trish!" Ally yelped.
"I'm a sucker for brown eyes," said Trish. Ally rolled her eyes.
"You know what? Fine, I don't care. I'm going to New York and I'm getting the rights to my song! He can't just steal it and take all the credit! I'm getting my song back, besides, I've always wanted to have a summer adventure."