Azalea (A/N:Azalea's name is pronounced AZA-LEIGHA) stepped out of the car to hundreds of people flashing cameras and stuffing microphones in her face. She groaned and closed the door behind her. Her odd eyes were blinded by the flashing lights. She put her pale white hands out as if to protect her from the crowd. 'C'mon people, its nearly midnight. Can't you do this in the morning?' Azalea thought angrily.
Her wavy teal/aqua hair reached her hips. It shimmered as she walked passed all the paparazzi. Azalea had dark purple lipstick on her pale pink lips, making them perfect. Her outfit was a simple black beanie with a tight black t-shirt that said Avril Lavigne in white letters, a black high-low sweater and tight black leggings. On her feet, was a pair of white and black striped flip flops that showed off her pedicured toes that were painted black with little skulls. Her fingers were full of studded rings and her nails were covered in black nail polish. Her right light blue, nearly white, eye was covered in black eye make up. Her left brown eye maintained the exact same look.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a pair of black Ray Bans that covered her eyes, enabling her to see without her hands covering her eyes. Her "family" followed quickly behind her, enjoying each and every single picture that was taken. "Morons." she muttered, shifting her black floral backpack on her back.
Suddenly, Azalea was stopped short. "Hi, I'm Stacy Williams from Good Morning America. Whats it like, moving to Cali to live in your cousins house?" Stacy said, stuffing the microphone in Az's face as the grubby camera man shoved his camera in her face.
This immediately pissed her off. "Okay people we need to get something straight." she nearly shouted. "I. AM. NOT. RELATED. TO. BILLY. JOE. COBRA. My family was murdered and I was adopted by his distant family. Thats it, now LEAVE ME ALONE." Azalea shouted and pushed the camera away from her face, storming past the stunned reporters. She smirked her little smirk as she felt the cameras follow her.
As she left, she heard the reporter say to the camera, "It looks like we may have just discovered Hollywood's newest bad girl." she said sassily, watching Azalea leave.
Azalea pushed through the crowd, swearing often in the process. Finally, she made it to the red gates. A large boulder with the initials BJC was positioned left of the the musically engraved gates. There, she jumped the fence, not waiting for the Jackman's to catch up. By then, she had made it far enough so that the reporters couldn't find her.
The moonlight cast a shadow beside her, keeping her company. "I can't believe we had to leave Rhode Island for this." she mumbled, kicking a gray stone off the driveway. "I'm not even related to this guy, why do I have to live in his house." Azalea grumbled, trudging up the hill "And why the hell is this driveway so long?" she panted angrily. Taking off her sunglasses, Azalea silently made her way up the driveway.
When she finally got to the door, Azalea pulled out a dark purple key covered in black cobwebs. She put it into the lock and turned the key, hearing the tumblers catch and click. The door opened with out a sound, indicating that it had been taken well care of. Azalea pulled the key out of the door with more force than necessary. The house was dark, the only light was the light that managed to seep through the drapes. 'This looks like my kind of place.' Azalea thought, smiling. Her eyes adjusted immediately, making it easy to see outlines without the lights. Azalea quickly made her way to the elevator, only tripping once. Once in the elevator, she observed the greenish glowing buttons. Hitting the number four, the elevator closed shakily. As she climbed higher and higher in the mansion, the silence was a refreshing after spending two years in the hectic household of the Wrights. Azalea took a deep breath as the elevator opened, revealing a dark hallway. She took a step out and the doors closed, 'odd.' she thought, but shrugged the thought off. Azalea opened the heavy wooden doors.
Upon opening, voices echoed throughout the mansion. "Seriously? Well...it was nice while it lasted." she muttered, as the elevator went down to go pick up more "family". Azalea groaned and turned around to see her fourteen year old "brother", Spencer.
"Hey Az! Cool place, right?" he said excitedly, marveling at all the fancy gizmos that he could see in the dim light of the elevator.
"Sure Kiddo." she managed. Spencer was the only person Azalea ever let call her by that nickname. The pair watched as the doors opened to reveal a long hallway with a door right in front of their faces.
"Isn't that my room?" he asked quizzically, Spencer had always been territorial.
"Ya...I can't remember where mine is." she lied. In all honesty, Azalea was just gonna snatch the room right out from under the little kid.
"Yours is down the hall. It has the red rose on the door, can't miss it." he said cheerfully, flipping on the lights. Az's eyes immediately flashed white from the blinding lights.
"Turn it off!" Azalea shouted, pulling my sweater over her head. Her eyes began adjusting, but the lights were still hurting them.
"Awww c'mon Az, its fine. Grow up." he said playfully. Az gave him a death glare and trudged off to her own room, halfway down the hallway to the right.
As she approached the rose covered door, Azalea felt as though she was being watched. She did a quick look over her shoulder to make sure nobody was looking before entering the room. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.
In front of her was a bed with a red silk comforter. Az's eyes buldged out of her head. The throw pillows were heart shaped and red with black lace. Next to the bed was a black bedside table with a red lamp on it. She flicked on the light to get a better look. Tucked away in the right corner was a couple black couches and a stripper pole. "What in the actual fuck?" Az whispered, stunned. In the far left corner was a walk in closet, black dresser and a full body length mirror. On the left wall was another door that led to the bathroom. The walls were a vibrant red with black roses painted on it. In the middle of the white ceiling was a crystal red chandelier. There was a single sliding door that lead out to a small balcony. The floor was hardwood with small steps at the foot of the bed to where it was raised.
"This is not my room." Azalea said defiantly. Suddenly, she heard a voice behind her.
"Whoa, Az is that your room?" Spencer asked incredulously, his eyes bulging too as he saw what the room held.
"Unfortunately." she mumbled, turning back around.
Little did Azalea know, a rock star ghost was hovering just above her. Watching, listening and reacting to everything Spencer and Azalea did. "Hey now, this is the Cobra's special room." Billy Joe Cobra said defensively, not realizing that nobody could hear him.
"I need rest, you should get some too." Azalea said, walking over to her new bed. "I don't even want to know how many people have slept in this bed." Azalea muttered as Spencer yelled a good night with a snicker. Finally, he shut the door on the teen. "Shut the light off!" she shouted and the light went out.
That night, Azalea decided not to change, as the feeling of being watched had not disappeared.