Chapter Twenty-seven

"I don't know if I can do this," I told her.

She looked up, acting like I was crazy. Which I probably am. But that's beside the point. "Jade, we've been working on this for weeks now. You can't back out now."

I shrugged busying myself with piano keys regardless of the fact that I don't know how to play. "I could pretend to be sick...," I muttered pathetically.

"Uh, no, you can't," she said sternly. "I won't let you."

I sighed, dropping my fingers down on random keys in frustration. "I don't wanna start bawling my eyes out in front of an audience, okay?" I snapped, exasperated.

She shrugged. "So just don't think too much about the lyrics," she said, as if it were that simple.

"I can't," I murmured.

She sighed dramatically, getting up and going through her bag which was under the piano bench.

"What are you doing?" I asked, caught off guard.

She ignored me, popping back up and shoving sunglasses on my face. "There. Now no one will be able to tell you're bawling your eyes out. Happy?" she asked sarcastically. Not waiting for a response, she pulled them off and dropped them in her bag.

"Now," she purred seductively, flinging her arms around my neck as she sat down once again. "How 'bout you come up to my room and I can help make you less uptight?"

I stared at her, mouth wide open for awhile. I closed it. "I'd like that," I said, my voice coming out a bit high. I cleared my throat.

She laughed at me, getting up and skipping up the stairs.

My childhood was littered with pointless, unproductive movies that all had the same plot which never exactly made sense. The first time I really started leaning toward performance was when I wanted to write scripts.

Making up stories, but ones that actually brought human beings into perspective. Just like being an actor. Only completely different. The same goal, anyway. Living in a life that doesn't even exist.

Why I decided to lean more toward acting was because I hate being in control. If I know what I'm doing, it's okay, but I don't like testing the waters. When you're an actress, you read off a script. When you write a script, you have to come up with your own words.

And sure, writing gives me more of a high than performing does, because it makes me feel that a thousand people who're watching the movie are hearing my words. But they don't know. They think it's the actor's words.

That makes it that much better.

In a movie, the main character, you know everything about them. More than you know about yourself. They do that purposely.

In a movie I'd make, it'd be different. You'd think you knew her. And then, she'd do something so out-of-character, so unexpected. And then, you'd realize you never knew a thing about her.

Maybe she'll kill herself. With a pocketknife.

See, this is why I can't make a movie. Because it's hard for me to keep my personal life out of the plot.

Know what I've always wanted to do? Make a movie where a bunch of kids come in for detention. And they don't know each other. And then, it shows how each one of their fucked up lives have played out.

And they'll have so many problems, all of them. Not one of which any of the others know. And maybe they'll talk, maybe they'll become friends. But nobody's ever going to share any of it with anybody else.

You think you know someone.

Who's the main character? The first one you see?

You can decide, I don't give a shit.

I used to do things just to take people off guard. Just to get a second glance. Just to be special.

I'm not special. I accept that about myself now.

But that doesn't mean I can't make somebody else look better in comparison. That's what I'm here for. Feel free to thank me.

You know what's almost pathetic, though? All that stuff up there, all the thoughts, all the issues, everything.

That was all gone the moment Tori Vega touched me.

A/N - Hi.

I know I'm late again. But I had practice... excuses, excuses.

School starts in two days. Anyone else? No? I'm going to school alone?

Don't use that piece of information to stalk me. My daddy's a cop.

:D It's got a party hat!

Ahem. Sorry 'bout that.

I'm having issues finding creative ways to bribe you into reviewing.

If you have any suggestions, feel free to send them to me in a review.