I know you weren't expecting this, but hey, I'm unpredictable. I could take 3 days or 3 months to update. Whenever I'm done with a chapter of a story, I'll post it to get it over with. Datelines don't work too well for me.
Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad everyone likes it. It's set in Helga's POV. Here's part 2...
Helga: I'm back! You didn't think I'd get away so easily, did you geek baits? I'm not done with my flashback.
I'm not gonna give you dolts too much details, since frankly, I have a time limit here. I'll just get to the main points. If there's a problem with that, you can take it up with Ole' Betsy, the Five Avengers, and the guards BOB hired to 'protect me' whenever I'm Cecelia. Humph. As if I need protecting.
Four Weeks Later...
When I first got here, I thought this whole music crap would be a piece of cake. Just follow along and do what the teachers want and nothing bad would happen, right?
WRONG.
Not only don't I have a talent, I have to perform something to everyone in camp. Criminy, what a terrible idea.
The point of the whole summer was to find something that we were supposed to find something that we were good at to play at 'The Finale', a stupid end of year student-hosted concert that shows whatever we learned here. Anna has her flute, and Barb, her sax. I can't play a single frickin thing!
So I can play the guitar. Big freaking whoop. But I'm fairly decent at best. Nothing special. And sure, I wrote a couple of songs, but I really don't think It's wroth listening to.
Ok, sure I can play guitar...barely. And I guess I'm a fairly decent actress, better than the Crew thinks they are. But I'm nothing special.
Which I why I did the crappy 3 page essay on what I learned here. Better than humiliating myself, right?
...But, a part of me really wants to do this. Or maybe it's just my roommates getting to me. They keep on telling me to 'believe in myself' and that 'I just have to be positive'. Sounds just like something the football head would be telling me. I wish he was here, helping me out now, giving me encouraging words, holding me close in his strong, warm arms...
That was never heard. EVER. Besides, he hasn't talked to me all summer. Pheobe said he was in Paris with his parents mostly, but would it kill him to shoot me a text or an email? I've sent him at least 5 over the summer and he hasn't said anything back. Criminy! Probably spending time with his stupid girlfriend Rosemary, cuddling up together...
Ugh. So anyway, Anna and Bella are in the practice room, along with everyone else who doesn't want to write an essay.
Which is every fricken person, talented or not. The Crew even has their own acting scene, which makes no effing sense at all. The have NO TALENT AT ALL. CRIMINY, IS THIS WHAT THEY'VE COME TO!?
So now I'm sitting in my cabin, my iWood connected to speaker with some soft and slow piano music on, and sheets with transcribed notes on it of my music (It's easier to read that way. Problem with that? There better not be, buckos!). I start strumming my guitar to the rhyme of piano and the beat of my soul.
"Never mind I'll find,
Someone like you-ooh.
I wish nothing but the best,
for you-oooooo too.
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember, you said,
'Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead' "
As soon as I finish the chorus, I hear a fast knock on the door, but I take my time to put away my stuff before I answer.
"I'm coming, I'm coming! Jeez, hold your horses!"
Opening the door, I saw none other than Ms. Franklin.
"Hello Helga."
"Oh, hi Miss F. How's it going?"
"Oh, it's all right. I just needed to give Anna a letter and I was wondering if you knew where she was." she said, walking into the room.
"I think she's in the practice room for her flute. She really wants it." Helga responded, sitting in her bed.
"The Finale's coming up, I believe."
"You got that right, sister, 4 days from now. Everyone's out of it, trying to prepare and make sure their parents tell them they were good and all that crap."
"Aren't you performing?"
"HA! Nooo way. I did the essay for a reason."
"But won't your parents be disappointed?"
"As if. All they care about is Olga, their perfect child. Sure they've eased up a bit, but still the same. Olga can sing, she can play piano, class valedictorian, yada yada yada. Never Helga."
"I know. Your parents were in tears when Olga sang."
"And leaving me alone with a wicked babysitter." she thought aloud, thinking of her pre-preschool years.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
... "Anyways, she was ok."
"Olga? OK? Ha, don't let Bob hear you say that. Nothing less than perfect should be used to describe his Olga."
"She sang fine, hitting all the notes. But the song didn't really touch me, ya know? Like I could connect to it. Like it was sang with soul and heart and passion. It was just...bland."
"That's Olga for you."
"But I bet you could sing better than her. You have this...spark about you."
" I don't feel like humiliating myself today, thank you very much. Besides, I don't think I'm that good."
"You know I heard you sing behind the door, right?"
Helga stood up in shock. "What, me? HA! No way." she crossed her arms and turned around, scoffing.
"Then what's this?" she pulled out her song lyrics from under one of the pillows.
"Hey!"
"'I know that you're settled down
That you found a girl and you're dating now
I guess that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things I couldn't give to you-'"
Helga snatched the papers out of her hands. "What's the heck's your problem?" she flailed her arms back and forth.
"You want to know what the problem is? I see a young, talented girl here, creating and singing wonderful songs but is too afraid and scared to show them to the world!" she responded, hands on her hips.
"I'm not afraid OR scared!"
"Then why aren't you singing?"
Helga sat back down. "I don't need my parents judgment, that's why! If I'm good, they'll force me to do it again and again, just like they did with OLGA. If I'm bad, a speech about how OLGA never did this will be in order. Face it, either way, I can't win. Just like a boy fighting a girl." she lad back in bed.
"HMMMM..."
"What's your big idea?" Helga asked, sitting up.
"Well, you don't have to perform as Helga, per say. Maybe as an alter ego."
"Like that terrible chick on Alexis Taxis? "
"Exactly, but ten times better in acting and singing."
"NO WAY SISTER." Helga crossed her arms in defiance.
"Well, then, I guess you can't ever show your music to the world. The wonderful, soul-piercing, heart warming music. Anyways, I hope to see you before the camp ends." Ms. F stood up and left, leaving Helga to her thoughts.
I guess she has a point...songs are just poems with music. And I won a poetry award for crying out loud! I guess I could give it a try, with a stupid disguise. But what the heck could I use?
She got up from bed and started looking though her suitcase. Of course I can see so much crap, Bob rushing me to throw in everything I can see so that we can just leave the house.
Helga pulled out a wig. The infamous red wig from 4th grade, along with some eye-color changing contacts. Back when she stupidly wanted to act like Lila so she could get Arnold to like her like her.
What a mistake THAT was. But then again...this crap could come in handy for the situation.
Rushing to the bathroom, she pulled her hair back and put on the wig, which surprisingly still fit, along with the contact lenses (which she carefully rinsed out).
Looking in the mirror, it was like she was a completely different person. She undid the braids and combed out the hair, holding a wave. She covered her eye with some of it for an added element of mystery.
Perfect, she thought, taking off the wig and contact lenses, tucking them away safely.
Only four more days till I make my appearance as... wait, what the heck am I gonna call myself? Eh, who cares? I've got plenty of time.
Helga again. So yeah, I'm gonna sing. Problem with that? For your sake, buckos, there better not be.
4ElementGirl here. I hope that a) Helga wasn't OoC and b) you liked that little installment. Review please!
