**************Ashley****************
"Ashley, wake up! It's 2:30, we're supposed to be there at 2!"
I stir a little, waiting for the annoying noise to stop so I can go back to sleep.
"Ashley I will drag your ass out of this bed right this second if you don't get up, come on, everyone else is already there!"
"Jesus, fine just shut up already, Kyla!"
I throw my pillow at my irritating sister while I throw my legs out from the comfortable blanket. I hate having these obligations to be places just because I'm in a band. Isn't the point of the band to just…play music? Hang out with your fans? Why do we have an interview with magazines that we can't skip out on every other day? Apparently if you have talent, the media thinks you own it something.
"Will you drive me? I can't even open my eyes," I say as I'm trying my best to apply at least a measly amount of eyeliner to my lids. The Austin Music Journal is interviewing "the band" at 3 today live on air, about our recent album release. Of course, I say "the band," but really they'll talk to me the whole time because focus tends to go toward the lead singer and one and only girl. Is it hard being the only girl in a band you ask? Nah. It's like having four protective brothers around me at all times, it's actually quite freeing. Girls are whiny and high maintenence, and I can only stand them for a night anyway. Works out in my favor, I guess.
Plus it keeps the pervy guys at bay.
"Yes I'll drive you. Ashley what the hell are you doing?!"
"What? I'm walking out the door like you've been screaming at me to do for the last 30 minutes!"
"You're not wearing pants, Ashley!" She lets out an annoyed grunt before pulling me into the closet for another try at getting ready.
"Oops…" I grab a pair of dark skinny jeans and my converse and pull them on, and we attempt to leave my apartment loft that we share, for the second time.
"Kyla I think being my manager just means managing me, not yelling at me every chance you get."
"Maybe if you'd make managing you a little easier, I wouldn't have to yell. It's the only way to get your attention anymore."
"Yeah, and every dog in the city's attention, too."
She slaps my arm and starts throwing the bags into her Kia Soul as we reach the parking garage.
"Where are we going again?"
She just sighs and keeps driving, apparently too stressed out to deal with me.
"I just thought I'd ask so I know what I'm supposed to be talking about today. You don't have to give me the attitude, I have interviews so often, I'm beginning to forget how to talk about anything else other than myself."
"And that's different from growing up with you, how…?
This time it's my turn to slap her arm.
"Hey, don't hit the driver!"
I laugh and turn on the radio. I hear shit, shit, and more shit. Finally I pop in my band's new album, and start singing along to, well, myself. I'm most definitely my band's biggest fan.
"Hey!" Kyla yells. I turn down the music and look at her strange outburst.
"You just interrupted my favorite song. What do you want?"
"I forgot to tell you. Chelsea and Clay are getting married back in LA, I opened the invitation this morning."
I pick at my shirt and don't say anything for a few seconds.
"So?"
She looks over at me, incredulous.
"Ash, come on, Chelsea was one of our best friends! You can't just not go to the happiest day of her life because you can't handle…Clay's family."
"Actually, I'm in a band that just went triple platinum on our second album ever, so I think that truly I can act like a complete bitch and no one would question it."
She keeps glancing over at me with an unreadable look in her eyes.
I stare out of my side window to try and not notice it. I know what she's thinking. I'm pathetic. It's been 7 years and I'm still pathetically avoiding even saying that bitch's name. Both of those bitches. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
"Ash…"
"Can you just drive me to my 'oh so important' radio interview so I can get this over with and get back to bed?"
"Fine." She sped up, and didn't look at me for the rest of the trip.