Hello! If you are here, you must be awesome! Yes, awesome. Well, if you haven't, please read "Shining Silver, Burning Bright" on my profile, as it'll be easy EASY to understand this. I'll still recap the story to the best of my ability. I have a "sayonara" message on there, too, so give it a read. Oh, without further bickering… should I start?

I guess so.

Oh, ummm check the next line for an intro

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Oh… I see it, here it comes.

SilverStreak99 presents,

Argent

-(-)-

It's not fun being on a bus.

Your type, my type.

It's all the same.

I left my friends a while ago. On a different bus. Your type of bus.

I remember, over the holiday break… at that school. I had received a letter for Grant University, the highest music school in the country. Unfortunately, our phone service was down because of rain or whatever and I couldn't call anyone right away, I believe. My brothers… oh, how bittersweet the moment. Sonic, was back, feeling a bit better from the whole drug mishap. Shadow, was the same as usual. The three of us were the Three Amigos. But I had to leave.

I had to leave a life, pretty much.

I remember getting to the school, when the tower was up, and called her.

She was angry.

She was confused.

I got angry, and got confused.

I remember the shouting and her tears, I remember the knot being split.

With a heavy heart, I continued my studies. Along with music, I got a bachelor's degree in PR, and thanks to the age at the time, I graduated at eighteen. I wasn't alone like that. There were several people at Grant who were like me, early birds, they'd call us. I think there were about twenty to twenty five of us "early birds." I wasn't friends with them.

I wasn't friends with anyone.

However, it changed. I still kept in contact with friends, Knuckles… Marine… Espio. But they wouldn't talk of her, or much of school. Maria and I chatted occasionally, and I remember her mentioning a date between the girl and a new boy.

Then she stopped talking.

Oh, the change.

I just graduated, and with a bachelor's degree and major in PR and Music already under my belt alongside those papers… I applied. Now, I didn't know what else to do, so I applied for a song. One song, y'know to get my name out there. For experience.

Then, a dog wearing a black pantsuit arrived. She had short cat-like ears and was the color of fresh daisies. I remember it well. I couldn't hear her, but she could hear me singing. Actually, I think she heard me singing. No, she had to. Anyways, the woman, apparently was a talent booker just picking up a binder she left there. As I got out of the studio booth, the dog introduced herself as Juliet Dayenaire, and suggested I go further into singing.

For the rest of that same spring, I studied the audiences I could go for with "a voice like mine" Juliet would say. I chose whichever one would show actual enthusiasm. While I was into bands like Black Veil Brides and etcetera, I didn't like punk people too much. So I went with a more poppish approach, not expecting anyone to actually truly listen.

I was wrong. Juliet got a songwriter to put out a song, now looking back, really isn't too good. Now, I made sure I wasn't a Justin Bieber singer, I didn't like his music. I liked people like… for lack of a better person, Lorde.

The song, "Skylark" skyrocketed. Not just as it launched, maybe a month after, but by July, it skyrocketed in sales.

Now, here I am, on a tour bus. Juliet insisted on an alias, quote, "it must be synonymous, y'know." I couldn't think, so she decided on Argent. It stuck, so I kept it.

Tour buses aren't too fun, less you are with people. I can't contact anyone outside of family. Juliet sometimes pushes the envelope, like once trying to get me an entourage. But I wasn't into that sort of stuff.

I can't say I regret doing this nor am I unhappy, I'm just… well, I feel alone. I got everything one would want, I've stayed very fit (Juliet keeps wanting me to shirtless photoshoots and concerts), I've got money (which I donate a lot of, and unlike most pop stars, I DO charity work from time to time), I've got family… friends? Well, family goes with that, right? There's also a house I have, over in LA. What else could one want.

Oh my gosh, whatever is going on in my mind, stop. I feel as if I'm being lead into a cheesy movie.

Or a boy band's songs.

Anyways, this boring tin can on wheels is leading to my concert of the day, Tampa, Florida. A place I remember much of, despite being there for only four short months. At this point, I get up from the sofa over to the "kitchen" area. The lists of songs are on the counter, and I pick it up to take a peek.

"'Star Breaker'... 'Skylark'... 'The One Way to Move'..." I muttered, reading down the list. About eight songs, most of which I knew. I was shocked to see, 'Painted Walls,' on the list, as it's the last song I released, just a week or two ago. Usually, I'd wait a month, but my producers and such kept it up or whatever. I only kept Juliet because she got me to where I am today, and because she's kind of my closest friend.

Which is sad, since she's like forty-six.

I reached in the fridge for something, and saw two bottles of beer, a Fanta, and a lot of root beer. I love root beer.

The beer is mine, I admit, but I rarely drink. If I do… it's one of those days. Those days where I remember her. And, in Tampa, I brought two for a reason.

-(-)-

"Alright Tampa, lemme hear you make some noise!"

"That's right, now, I have one last song on there! You know it, it just came and has probably left those guys on iTunes baffled by how high it got already, but-"

I was drowned out by the screams of girls (and maybe a thousand or so guys out of thirty-thousand) all shouting different songs or just squeals.

"Uh, oh, yes! It's one my favorites and yours too," and the music started just on cue, "Painted Walls."

(not the best at songwriting… even with something not impromptu, so I just skip songs here. I'd use some, but I feel as if it wouldn't fit)

I started to back out from the stage as music died down, with a sheepish grin on my face. I slipped into the semi-small dressing room. Juliet was waiting there with a smile.

"Oh yes, Argent, that was perfect."

I didn't like the name Argent being used by people who knew my real name. I blew it off though, and looked at the mirror as I changed into my "leaving" attire. I didn't like this part, but thank the Lord that the wide open spot leaving out to the stage had a door, else my mostly-naked body would be out to the world. Quickly, I changed from my white leather jacket with black shirt, blue necklace with spikes on it, and fancy pants of some material into a green button up with stripes and jeans. I wasn't the most… well stylish, in my eyes. On stage, I looked very stylish to everyone else, but I insisted on casual wear leaving. I looked at my body in the mirror, but I wasn't being self-centered, I didn't "admire" it as most fanfictions about me claim. I just… looked, at me in normal (yet embarrassing) Superman-labelled underwear, and changed into said clothes.

Juliet came in to the small room again and gestured to the door in the corner of the room. Bodyguards were around the room, four or so, but they, of course, stepped aside of my manager/producer. The pale-yellow yorkie smiled with dull eyes. She looked very dignified, but not royalty-like or, regal, that's the word.

"Yes, yes! You're all in that… *sigh* normal clothing. Shall we go?"

I rolled my eyes, "Juliet, whatever you say. Not like me to argue." I snickered at the thought.

She nudged me over to the door as it opened, blinding flashed and piercing squeals filled the area. I tried to look at the fans to the best of my ability, smiling, waving, cracking amused expressions. Lots of different people were there, weasels, hedgehogs, mongooses, and even-

I learned to keep cool, any expression besides suaveness (when Juliet told me to do this, I insisted "suave" isn't an emotion OR expression) and happiness could be shown. But I dropped my smile for a second, seeing someone I knew all too familiar in the crowd.

I didn't think she'd recognize me, and it looked as if she didn't.

Blaze the Cat and a friend of mine, Marine the Raccoon, were standing there, cheering and squealing. It was at that moment, I sped to the tour bus, and the tears came out as I slammed the door behind me.

I immediately ran to the phone, running through Sonic's number in my head and quickly dialed. I no longer knew or remembered Blaze's number.

I waited as the ringing came through.

"H-Hello?"