High, Guys! This is the first chapter of my first story. Before you start reading, let me just say that this one will be kind of boring, but you need to read it in order to figure out what's going to be going on. After that I PROMISE that they will get better. ENJOY!

PROLOGUE

There he was, standing behind his desk with a clipboard in his hand. As if the 5 crying women running out of his office with the feeling of rejection wasn't intimidating enough, the gold Rolex on his hands started to make a skull face the more I stared into it. I also could have sworn that it was whispering "Leave, Leave." But of course, I had to keep looking, since it was either stare into the skeleton watch or stare at his pale, deadly blue eyes.

"Your résumé," he said in his deep voice, "Looks very impressive. The best one I've seen in a long time."

It took all of my strength to squeeze out a "thank you" from my trembling, chewed up lips.

"How do you pronounce your name? NI-vee-uh, nuh-VI-uh…"

"Nuh-VAY-uh. N-N-Neveah Puckett."

Why are you acting like you just got high off of something? I asked myself. It's not like you're in a crime interrogation. It's just a job as an intern.

Who am I kidding? This isn't just a job. This is a one and only chance to be face-to-face with real-live celebrities. This is a job at Island Records Company.

"Based on this," he blurted out, snapping me back into reality "I'd have to be a complete idiot not to have you on our team," he reassured me, actually making my heart be faster. "Still, there's one last question I need to ask you one more question I need to ask you…"

Oh crap, I think. Please don't ask about my bruises…

Please don't ask about my black eye…

PLEASE don't ask about why I have one brown eye and one green eye…

"Usually, 15-year-old girls would prefer a summer job at a clothing store, or movie theatre, or some place where they can hang out with their friends," he said with a bit of suspicion. "Why do you want a job in a noisy, adult-filled record studio 30 miles away from your home?

How was I supposed to respond to that? That I have no friends to hang out with, so I have nothing to lose? That I'm sick of staying home, doing nothing but homework? That I need to get as far away from my angry, demanding parents as possible?

"Because I love being anywhere where there's music or singing involved, and where you're always able to feel the different notes and tunes swimming through your body. Wherever that is, mileage is never a factor. And of course, being able to see singers and celebrities is sort of a sweet point." That wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the complete truth either.

He laughed at my last statement. Thank God. For a second, I thought I was starting to sound obnoxious.

"That, my dear, is the best answer I got all day." He stood up, revealing how incredible tall he was. "Congratulations, Neveah. Welcome to Island."

I could have screamed, if it didn't mean he might send me to an asylum. Instead, I eagerly and rapidly shook his hand smiling, saying "thank you" nonstop.

"I can tell you are definitely going to be a riot around her," he chuckled. "Before you get excited, let me tell you what you'll be doing."

I breathed and sat down, listening to my new agenda.

"Like all of our employees, you'll be starting off as an intern, then work yourself up as you go along. Usually our interns are given miscellaneous jobs, so you'll be on your feet at all times, making coffee runs, organizing mail, stuff like that."

He kept going on, with which days I'm working on, where I check in, etc. Still, I was zoning in and out of attention, continuously saying silently, "I GOT THE JOB!"

"By the way," he added. "We have a very strict rule on intimate relationships, especially with the artists that come in the studios." His tone and facial features got serious. "So if we see that it's a negative effect on your work, or theirs, in any way, you're gone. Got it?"

"Got it" I said instantly. Any relationship definitely won't be a problem with me.

"Well, I guess that's it." He handed me a slip of paper. "This is your schedule for next week"

I read down the different times, some that even included staying in the studios for sound check. I was able to see Rihanna, Taylor Swift, and one name I didn't recognize.

"Um, whose name is this at the top?"

He glanced at it. "Oh, that's…Justin Bieber."

"Never heard of him."

"Me either. He's supposed to be this newly-discovered talent that they plucked off of YouTube." he muttered, the sound of annoyance in his tone this time. "Watch your back with him. The young ones always come in looking for trouble." He lightened up his voice. "See you on Monday."

I left, half of my mind glad that I was chosen, and the other half pissed that now I have to spend two hours every day with a 15-year-old snot.

Thanks for reading, guys. I will get the next one put up as soon as possible. Stay tuned!