A/N: Yay! New story! Radio Rebel. Hmmm... it was a pretty cool movie. But the one thing that caught by eye was the living god Atticus Mitchell. So... after a long, long while of fangirling and sorting out, I decided to write a fic about his character Gabe... almost two years after the movie came out. (facepalm) I know, but I had no idea what to write about until I was watching TV one day and watched this movie, then re-watched RR a couple of times and then came up with this. Such a bloody idiot, I know. Well, I guess now's better than never!
Disclaimer: I don't own Radio Rebel. Luckily Disney has too much money to sue.
"This is your Radio Rebel, live from the Underground," I heard from the black earbuds in my ears as I laid on my bed, "you don't know who I am, but I know who you are—because I'm one of you."
This Radio Rebel chick is pretty cool, I guess. Everyone at school is freaking out about who she is and if she's in the senior class or whatever. I'm just gonna sit back and hear the magic in action. Why ruin the aloofness?
"Report cards came out today. I got a minus for participation. You can't give me a minus for being who I am. So, since grades are being handed out I think I should give all of us at Lincoln Bay High an F for labelling each other. Jocks, outcasts, dorks, queen bees and their fellow pops. And newborn pops. Guys, these aren't who we really are; there was a time when being different was a good thing. Now those differences just divide us, you deserve to embrace your awesomeness, embrace who you are. Reject the status quo." Rebel went on. "I dare you."
"Well, hon, it's not that easy," I breathed, picking at my nails. With my twin sister, Zoe DiSentis, as Stacey DeBane's second-in-command, and my awkward yet lovable group of friends, Tara, Audrey, Larry, and Barry, rejecting the status quo isn't super easy.
We all want to stick up for ourselves and be ourselves and let the crazy out, but let's face the dead, hard facts of reality:
It's a death trap.
The pops will always be in control, the nerds will be the nerds, the jocks will always be the jocks. It's just how Lincoln Bay works. It's the circle of life, and there's no going against it. Now, only if it was that easy to stand up for the poor, defenseless student body.
But hey. At least we get our own tables in the quad!
. . . .
The next morning, I was tapping my drumsticks on the side of my locker as I listened to Audrey and Tara talk about last night's RR podcast. And all I could think about was my sister. Ugh. Both of us are short, like dead-ass four-foot-eleven or something. We both have lightly tanned skin, but she has dark and wavy hair that strides down her back with pride. Mine is dark, too, but straight with endless split-ends and a blonde streak running through it, just by my doll face. Since she's with Stacey most of the time, their outfits are coordinated, so it's skirts, preppy tops, and heels with matching handbags. I wear basically anything, but I'll fall on my face in too-high heels.
"I wish I could be like her..." Tara sighed.
"Like who?" I asked, bringing my drumming to an end.
Audrey chuckled. "There she goes. Was Kitty-Kat daydreaming again?" she asked, giving me a look. I hated it when people called me Kitty-Kat. But it wasn't as annoying as Drummer Girl. Jesus, I know I play drums, you don't have to remind me. "Was it about a boy?"
"No," I denied, rolling my eyes. "Don't even go there, A."
She rolled her eyes at me, too, and faced Tara again. "You should talk to your stepdad."
"What? Why?" Tara asked with her eyes widened.
"Umm... he runs Slam FM, the biggest Radio Station in Seattle. Maybe he could give you an internship. That would be a confidence booster, right?"
"Are you kidding me?" she asked, totally doubting the idea. "He's been married to my mom for two months, and he probably thinks I'm a total step-freak. I freak out when he asks what kind of cereal I want." I smirked, shrugging as I bumped my locker closed. Audrey closed hers too and we started walking. "I just wish I could talk to everyone the way I talk to you guys. I guess that's why you're my BFFs."
"BFFTLEWE." I corrected, half-mocking Audrey. Tara looked at me like I had sprouted wings. I turned to Audrey, shaking my head in disbelief. "She so doesn't get it..."
"Best Friends For Totally Like Ever Without Exception." Audrey explained.
"Catchy." Tara shrugged.
"You need a relaxation technique," Audrery told her, "When I'm rehearsing lines for drama, I imagine I'm breathing in the words." Once again, Tara questioned her mentally with a look. She looked at me, hoping I could translate.
"This is how I spend my weekends," I said, nudging her. I cleared my throat and did my best impression of her, "You need to breathe your words..." I exhaled in a voice creepy enough that it could be mistaken for Voldemort's. Audrey nodded like she was pleased.
"Pretty good." she said to me.
"How can you even breathe at a time like this?" Barry shouted as he and Larry came behind us.
"Problem, Barry?" I asked, grinning at his obsessive little crush on Radio Rebel. I remember he used to have a thing for me, but now that's obviously under wraps now that Rebel's in the picture. I feel sorry for her if he ever finds out who she is. She's gonna get random flowers and gift cards on her front porch, too.
"Last night, Radio Rebel revealed the biggest clue yet about her identity: She goes to our school!" he went on as we drifted to the elevator.
"She mentioned it and then at 14:30 in Tuesday night's podcast." his "twin" Larry added for him as we fled in.
"You guys have way too much free time," Audrey remarked, "Obsessed much, Larry?"
"Obsessed? Please, I would hardly describe myself as obsessive!" We nodded as he took out a wipe and wiped the second floor button in a circle before pressing it with it. "What? It's flu season." he said as he saw us watching him. The doors shut and lifted us to the next floor. "It's so exciting. She's actually one of us!" The dudes started selecting random chicks passing by who they thought was Radio Rebel.
"No dude, Radio Rebel is like five-foot-six to me and has red hair. Like Tara's," Barry objected, gesturing to the redhead.
"No, she's nothing like Tara."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Tara asked, sounding affronted.
"Oh we love you... but you're nothing like Radio Rebel, who's definitely a blonde." Larry told her as he hinted to his brother. He had turned himself to him.
"And you know this how?" Barry questioned.
"Radio Rebel is my soulmate." he explained in a duh tone. "We're connected, like for example, I got a minus in participation."
"My God, you're so in-sync!" I gasped, jumping up in fake excitement. I rolled my eyes again and threw one of the neon blue drumsticks in my hand in the air. They lit up in the dark, which was awesome. They were a present for my seventeenth birthday. I know, I know. Drumsticks, really? Hey, it's my birthday.
"How do we know that you're not Radio Rebel?" Barry asked me.
"Maybe I am... maybe I'm not..." I taunted, laughing. I poked his arm with the other stick. "Whatchu gonna do?" I turned my head over to Stacey, Zoe, and their little wannabe friend Kim. I snorted and rolled my eyes. My sister was the dictator of my life. She thought she knew more than me. She thought she was better than me. She thought she ran my life, because popularity just happened to have her in its clutches and not me.
Snapping out of my memories, I now realized that my group was behind me, now in contact with Stacey and Zoe, and that wasn't very good. Especially in the morning. Ugh. Stacey's petty whining in the morning. In the middle of the week? Oh joy. I sighed and backed out of place and toward them.
"Well," I said with a grin, "it's never too early for a fight."
"Stay out of this, Kat." Zoe hissed, giving me the evil eye. She had this whole signature evil eye going on. It said back-the-hell-off-or-I-will-destroy-you. I flashed a follow-up glare at her.
"You don't own me." I faced Stacey. "Look, whatever's going on here can be solved with reason. We're all human here, not gods and titans on Olympus. We can work this out." Her cold blue eyes stared into me, like they were picking out bits and pieces of information from my brain and mind so that she could use them for torture in the future. And when she had my own sister to dish gossip on me, it was over.
"Oh puh-lease, Drummer Girl," she sneered. I think she was talking to Audrey now. "No words. You don't think we're different? Watch and learn." She turned her head. "Principal Moreno!" The short, blonde she-devil looked our way and marched over, making me growl with anger. This lady had a thing for putting down the other students and glorifying Stacey and her group.
"Stacey," she greeted with a smile, "is everything alright here?"
"Actually no," Stacey sighed. "Audrey was trying to get me to listen to some podcast in class. Of course I said no." This chick made Shakespeare's plays look dry and worn-out.
"What? No, I mean- I never–" Audrey stuttered.
"You know that there's an anti-distraction policy. Let me see your bag." Moreno commanded, stretching out her hand. Audrey willingly gave her her bag and she searched until she fished out her iPod nano. Then, Moreno was a bitch and did the same to poor Tara, which set me off. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Stacey."
"But they didn't even do anything!" I protested, shaking my head. "If anything, Stacey's her own distraction. She can't get enough of herself in the mirror." I gave her a snarky smile when she looked offended.
"One more word, Miss DiSentis, and I'll have you suspended... again." she warned, pointing at me. She snatched my Beats from around my neck, with my iPod touch trailing behind it as she walked away. I swore under my breath.
"Serves you right." Zoe said, rolling her eyes.
"Get it now? Your little DJ hero doesn't know what she's talking about." Stacey added in, glaring at me and Audrey. Tara stuttered. "Oh! Does her royal shyness want to say something?" Tara started stuttering more. I felt for her. She wanted to stand up to these bitches, but couldn't, due to her immense shyness and quiet nature. "I thought not." Stacey turned to me. "If you ever try and pull a stunt like that again, I'll–"
"You'll what? Ruin my life?" I asked in a mocking voice. I laughed, tossing my head back. "It's already a shitload. If you ever mess with my friends again, that pretty little headband's gonna be stuck up your ass, Queen Bee." I threatened.
She growled and marched away with her army of skanks. I could hear Zoe whisper, "I can't believe I'm related to that freak." I shrugged and turned to Tara.
"You okay?" I asked, rubbing her shoulder.
"At least you tried." Audrey complimented. "Bye, Kitty-Kat!" They went off to class. I pointed an imaginary gun to my head and pulled my thumb-trigger. Then I swirled around and started walking to Music.
I cut down a hall when the bell went off, then I started running. I made it to the classroom in time and swung open the door, stopping to catch my breath. Giggles went across the room as my teacher, Mr. Forbes, turned around to look at me, unsurprised. He shook his head and marked me down in his book. Students got up and left. I mentally slapped myself. Music class was thirty minutes and started at 7:30. I could've made it on time if I didn't stop for coffee at Dunkin' Donuts.
"Miss DiSentis, come have a seat." Mr. Forbes said, pointing his pencil at the empty chair in front of his desk. I sighed and did so. "I don't understand. In freshman and sophomore year, you were excellent. You actually put effort into your work. But in junior year, you started slipping. Now, you're at an average of 71. Can you explain that to me?"
"I have a lot of things going on at home..." I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
"Well, everyone has family drama, but that's no excuse for skipping five assignments." He flipped through his pages a couple of times and looked back up at me. "You've been slacking in other classes, too. By the looks of it, you won't be able to graduate." My jaw dropped and my heart stopped. My mom was gonna kill me. "But, I have a proposition for you. You need four more points to have a passing average, which will enable you to graduate. The final project of this semester is to write an original song with a partner, but unfortunately, everyone is already partnered up... except one."
I leaned forward. "Well? Who is it?"
He sighed. "Mr. LaViolet."
Screwed wasn't even where I was. This was the ultimate double-whammy. Either I repeat the twelfth grade or I work with the one person I couldn't stand. Decisions, decisions...
What shall become of this you ask? You're just gonna have to wait until next Monday, dearies! Reviews, suggestions, expectations, comments, and such are welcome.
Kisses! ~TwistedTelepath