You're gonna hate Jacob for this...trust me. I did (haha)
10. That's Showbiz
Dad never let me out of his sight anymore so he could find out if the guy serving us pizza was actually a paparazzi or whatnot.
My life is so crazy now! I always had to leave with Mom or Dad and I have to wear shades and hoodies and stuff, but even so, some people still knew who I was. The sound of a clicking camera never left my mind ever again.
The crazy part was all the phone calls. There was even one station in Asia that called me to say I've been on their chart at the top spot for ten weeks already. We never ran out of company names to go through. It was good that I'm needing less sleep. Dad suspected that I'm turning into a mature vampire, but we can't be sure.
We can't go to the second album immediately. A lot of people were writing to Lightning, asking when and where I'll be having a concert. So we have to do that, then probably a world tour. I'm so excited!
I phoned Jake during concert rehearsal break. It was the second week of June.
"Hey, babe," he greeted.
"Hi," I replied. "So, when're you coming?"
"Umm . . . er . . ." He trailed off.
"Jake, what's wrong?"
"I'm awfully sorry, Ness," he began again. "I failed a couple of units. I have to go to summer class."
"Isn't there a way out of it? Can't we reschedule it?"
"I'm really sorry. It's a fixed sched."
I felt something inside me break again.
"O-okay," I replied. "It's cool."
"Seriously?"
"Very. I completely understand."
"I'm really sorry, hon."
"S'okay."
"If you're sure. Love you. Gotta go."
"Love you more. I'm rehearsing. Who knows, I might tour there."
"Hopefully. Bye."
"Bye." I closed my phone and saw the drum set and a pair of drumsticks.
I began banging as hard as I could.
"This—is—so—un—fair!" I screamed in between bangs.
"Whoa, whoa, Nessie, what's the matter?" Caleb asked, gripping my wrists.
"Jacob's not coming to the concert," I said. With the tone of a three-year old who hasn't been given a cookie.
"Why?"
"He has to go to summer class," I pouted. "Can't we reschedule?"
"Afraid not."
I let out a loud moan and banged my head on the drums.
"My life sucks."
"Come on, cheer up," Caleb said, patting my back. "Here."
He offered me a chocolate-chip cookie. "How did you know?"
He shrugged. "I figured you're probably getting tired of scones and tea all day."
"Thanks," I took the cookie and gave him a sheepish smile.
I tried to put my worries away and focused on the rehearsal the rest of the day.
The three-year-old tone might be useful.
After the rehearsal, I met with everyone in the crew to talk about security and stage design. It felt awfully weird ordering older people around, getting them to do what you want to see.
"The color theme has to be black and white," the set designer said.
"But I don't have to wear black and white all the time, do I?"
"Of course not, darling," the set designer reassured with a sarcastic laugh. "The instruments have to, though. We need an ivory white piano on a rising platform . . ."
"Whoa, wait, for what?" I asked.
"I'm thinking of it as your entrance," she said. "You, sitting on the piano while a 'jailer' is playing . . ."
"Why can't I play the piano?"
"On second thought . . . that is a better idea."
An hour later the meeting was adjourned. For the entrance everything will be dark and suddenly I begin singing 'The Show' while the platform slowly rises and black and white smoke begins to puff out.
The next day, I went outfit hunting with Mom and the costume designer. We had to go to ten different designers accompanied by six bodyguards. The world was getting crazier and crazier . . . at least my world.
In my opinion, the costume designer had a bad taste. Aunt Alice wouldn't have approved of anything she's picked.
Mom kept talking all the time. I couldn't who was on the phone because she was speaking so fast and so quietly.
When we were in Chanel, the designer picked out the tackiest dress yet.
I wish Aunt Alice was here, I thought.
"Nobody messes with my niece's wardrobe."
Cliffy!!!Haha, as if you won't guess who! It's so darn obvious..