-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chapter 3: Help from A Friend
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Alison sat quietly, her legs folded underneath her like a pretzel, on her bunk in the large tour bus she had called home for the past two months. She had changed out of her concert clothes into a more comfortable loose T-shirt and jean shorts, her bare toes wiggling in the air. Her long golden locks were pulled back into a ponytail that swayed with the movements of the bus down the road. On her lap sat an old acoustic guitar, which she strummed at absentmindedly, playing out tunes which flowed through her mind. She began to softly hum melodies to songs that she had not yet written, smiling a bit when she found a progression of notes that she really liked. Alison leaned over to grab a pen and paper and scribbled down the chords, momentarily pausing to chew on the pen as she thought of lyrics to go along with the music. She was given a bit of a startle when the door to her room swung open, revealing Tom standing on the other side.
"Goodness, Tom! When are you going to learn to knock?!" she grumbled, turning back to another sheet of paper on which she had written a few verses to a song she was working on.
"Lock the door if you don't want anyone to come in," he grunted. He scrambled through his pockets and found a cigar, placing it in his mouth and lighting it, taking a good drag and blowing a few smoke rings in Alison's direction. He wandered over to her bunk and picked up the papers she was looking over and started reading them himself.
"Please, go ahead, read my stuff while giving me cancer from secondhand smoke! If you want, I'll go find my diary so you can look through that, too," she snapped. Tom had become more and more obnoxious lately about not giving Alison any privacy, it annoyed her to no end.
"What is this crap all about," he waved his hand at her lyrics.
"It's about feeling different from everyone else, and how people alienate those who are different," she replied, a bit upset about his opinion of her work, "I was thinking maybe we could use it on my next album."
"Alison, darling," he said, tossing the papers back on her bunk, "we already have the whole song list written up for the next album."
"I'm tired of singing someone else's words... I've been working hard on this all," she said, fighting back tears, "I'm finding it more and more difficult to pump out hit after hit when I'm singing about things I hardly even know about."
Tom grunted in response, "This stuff you're writing is not what our target audience wants to listen to."
"How do you know that?" Alison asked, "You never gave it a chance."
"Maybe we can discuss this another time... for now---" he was cut off by his cell phone, which he promptly grabbed from his belt and answered, "Hello, Tom Cooper here. Hey, James, baby, how are you doing? Good, good... the wife and kids?" he wandered out of the room, ignoring any further statements Alison might have made. A few moments later, Lila entered the room, sitting on her bunk opposite Alison. In her hand was a copy of Teen Hitz magazine which she was reading quite interestedly.
"Hey, Alison, did you know that you've been nominated most likely to be the next person to date Justin Timberlake?" Lila said, glancing up at Alison after she received no response. Tears were rolling down the other girl's cheeks as she stared at a sheet of paper laying next to her. "Alison, are you okay?" The blonde tressed celebrity threw her guitar aside and grabbed the pieces of paper, crumpling them all into a large ball, throwing the whole collection on the floor. "Tom have another talk to you about writing your own stuff?" Lila frowned, bending down to pick up the paper ball, uncrumpling it and studying the words.
"He told me that all that I have written there is trash," Alison sniffled, trying desperately to control her soft sobs, "I poured my heart into that, and he told me it's trash."
"Tom's motto is 'if it don't make cash, then it's trash.' If he gave this a chance, he'd see that you'd have an even broader audience than you have now. This is really excellent! I wish I could write stuff like this," Lila smiled, handing the wrinkled paper back to Alison. A half smile crossed Alison's features. "So, have you been experiencing any more... you know...."
"Flashes of power? Only when there's a constant noise to draw energy from it seems," she said, "it's becoming a bit easier to control, but that's not saying much." Lila nodded, standing up.
"I'll be right back," she said, heading into the bathroom of the bus, closing the door behind her and locking it. She reached for her cell phone and dialed, pushing her short black hair back behind one ear as she listened for an answer. After three rings, a response came.
"Hello?" an accented voice said on the other end of the line.
"Hey, Remy, it's Lila Cheney... remember me?" She smiled.
"Of course, chere, how could I forget? What can I do fo' jou?"
"Well, remember how you said to call you if I ever met someone like us... another mutant?" Lila asked, remembering back to when she met Remy, a very confusing time when her power, the ability to teleport anywhere that she could think of, was completely out of control. Remy had helped her through that time and had comforted her by telling her about how in the past his powers raged out of control, although he had never told her exactly how he had gotten them under his control. He had always been very mysterious about that.
"Yeah," Remy said, "who is she?"
"Alison Blaire," she replied, "she's suddenly developed the ability to convert sound into energy that she shoots out of her body, or something like that. She's having a hard time controlling it... do you think you could help her?" There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"When jou get to Bayville, chere, some friends of mine will meet jou dere. I can't tell jou much more dan dat. I've gotta go now. Talk to jou later," the phone went silent. Lila frowned slightly, sad that she hadn't gotten the chance to talk longer with her old friend Remy, but she was glad that there was a chance that he might be able to help Alison get her powers under control.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
To Be Continued
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chapter 3: Help from A Friend
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Alison sat quietly, her legs folded underneath her like a pretzel, on her bunk in the large tour bus she had called home for the past two months. She had changed out of her concert clothes into a more comfortable loose T-shirt and jean shorts, her bare toes wiggling in the air. Her long golden locks were pulled back into a ponytail that swayed with the movements of the bus down the road. On her lap sat an old acoustic guitar, which she strummed at absentmindedly, playing out tunes which flowed through her mind. She began to softly hum melodies to songs that she had not yet written, smiling a bit when she found a progression of notes that she really liked. Alison leaned over to grab a pen and paper and scribbled down the chords, momentarily pausing to chew on the pen as she thought of lyrics to go along with the music. She was given a bit of a startle when the door to her room swung open, revealing Tom standing on the other side.
"Goodness, Tom! When are you going to learn to knock?!" she grumbled, turning back to another sheet of paper on which she had written a few verses to a song she was working on.
"Lock the door if you don't want anyone to come in," he grunted. He scrambled through his pockets and found a cigar, placing it in his mouth and lighting it, taking a good drag and blowing a few smoke rings in Alison's direction. He wandered over to her bunk and picked up the papers she was looking over and started reading them himself.
"Please, go ahead, read my stuff while giving me cancer from secondhand smoke! If you want, I'll go find my diary so you can look through that, too," she snapped. Tom had become more and more obnoxious lately about not giving Alison any privacy, it annoyed her to no end.
"What is this crap all about," he waved his hand at her lyrics.
"It's about feeling different from everyone else, and how people alienate those who are different," she replied, a bit upset about his opinion of her work, "I was thinking maybe we could use it on my next album."
"Alison, darling," he said, tossing the papers back on her bunk, "we already have the whole song list written up for the next album."
"I'm tired of singing someone else's words... I've been working hard on this all," she said, fighting back tears, "I'm finding it more and more difficult to pump out hit after hit when I'm singing about things I hardly even know about."
Tom grunted in response, "This stuff you're writing is not what our target audience wants to listen to."
"How do you know that?" Alison asked, "You never gave it a chance."
"Maybe we can discuss this another time... for now---" he was cut off by his cell phone, which he promptly grabbed from his belt and answered, "Hello, Tom Cooper here. Hey, James, baby, how are you doing? Good, good... the wife and kids?" he wandered out of the room, ignoring any further statements Alison might have made. A few moments later, Lila entered the room, sitting on her bunk opposite Alison. In her hand was a copy of Teen Hitz magazine which she was reading quite interestedly.
"Hey, Alison, did you know that you've been nominated most likely to be the next person to date Justin Timberlake?" Lila said, glancing up at Alison after she received no response. Tears were rolling down the other girl's cheeks as she stared at a sheet of paper laying next to her. "Alison, are you okay?" The blonde tressed celebrity threw her guitar aside and grabbed the pieces of paper, crumpling them all into a large ball, throwing the whole collection on the floor. "Tom have another talk to you about writing your own stuff?" Lila frowned, bending down to pick up the paper ball, uncrumpling it and studying the words.
"He told me that all that I have written there is trash," Alison sniffled, trying desperately to control her soft sobs, "I poured my heart into that, and he told me it's trash."
"Tom's motto is 'if it don't make cash, then it's trash.' If he gave this a chance, he'd see that you'd have an even broader audience than you have now. This is really excellent! I wish I could write stuff like this," Lila smiled, handing the wrinkled paper back to Alison. A half smile crossed Alison's features. "So, have you been experiencing any more... you know...."
"Flashes of power? Only when there's a constant noise to draw energy from it seems," she said, "it's becoming a bit easier to control, but that's not saying much." Lila nodded, standing up.
"I'll be right back," she said, heading into the bathroom of the bus, closing the door behind her and locking it. She reached for her cell phone and dialed, pushing her short black hair back behind one ear as she listened for an answer. After three rings, a response came.
"Hello?" an accented voice said on the other end of the line.
"Hey, Remy, it's Lila Cheney... remember me?" She smiled.
"Of course, chere, how could I forget? What can I do fo' jou?"
"Well, remember how you said to call you if I ever met someone like us... another mutant?" Lila asked, remembering back to when she met Remy, a very confusing time when her power, the ability to teleport anywhere that she could think of, was completely out of control. Remy had helped her through that time and had comforted her by telling her about how in the past his powers raged out of control, although he had never told her exactly how he had gotten them under his control. He had always been very mysterious about that.
"Yeah," Remy said, "who is she?"
"Alison Blaire," she replied, "she's suddenly developed the ability to convert sound into energy that she shoots out of her body, or something like that. She's having a hard time controlling it... do you think you could help her?" There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"When jou get to Bayville, chere, some friends of mine will meet jou dere. I can't tell jou much more dan dat. I've gotta go now. Talk to jou later," the phone went silent. Lila frowned slightly, sad that she hadn't gotten the chance to talk longer with her old friend Remy, but she was glad that there was a chance that he might be able to help Alison get her powers under control.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
To Be Continued
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-