by Amare, Mercy
“See you inside,” Ethan blushes, then with his head down, he walks off in the opposite direction.
“Hi, I'm Mona,” she introduces herself to me. “Do you want to eat lunch with me and my friends today?”
“I don't know,” I hesitate. “I usually eat with Ethan.”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, you're Scarlett Ryan. Why are you hanging out with him?”
“Scarlett!” Stephan comes up, and puts his arm around my shoulder.
“Ewe,” Mona says, then turns around and walks the other way.
“What's her problem?” I ask him.
“I don't know, and I don't care.” He says. I start to walk towards to cafeteria, but he stops me. “Let's ditch.”
I roll my eyes. “It's my third day here, Stephan. And might I remind you, I'm 19 and still haven't graduated high school. I'm here to learn.”
He tries to look sad. “Fine. Go hang out with my dorky stepbrother, and I will see you after school. Remember, you promised to give me a private concert tonight.”
I half wave. “Later.”
As I walk through the cafeteria, I ignore everybody who tries to talk to me, and sit beside Ethan. I don't even care if everybody thinks I am being a bitch. I am not in the mood to put up with fake people, and I am quickly figuring out, high school is almost as bad as Hollywood.
Ethan looks sad, but smiles when I sit at the table across from him. He almost looks surprised that I am sitting here.
“What's wrong?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It's nothing. I just... hate small towns sometimes.”
“Trust me when I say it's not any different in a big city, just less people to hate you here,” I shrug. “Does this have anything to do with that cheerleader?”
“Mona,” he reminds me her name. I really don't care. “You know, I've known her since kindergarten. We were friends up until two years ago. After my dad married Stephan's mom, she quit talking to me.”
“Wow, what a bitch,” I say. “Why would you want somebody like her to talk to you anyway?”
He doesn't reply. He just hangs his head, and looks at his food. Where was the confident guy I met on the first day of school? And then, I realize...
“You like her.”
He glares at me. “I don't know her... I mean, I used to, but not anymore. I can't like somebody I don't know.”
I can't help but smile. “But you want to know her. And you're attracted to her.”
He sighs. “It doesn't matter. She doesn't want to know me.”
“How about we make an arrangement,” I suggest.
He looks up, and I can tell he's intrigued.
“You tutor me in math, and I'll tutor you in girls.”
“I'll tutor you either way,” he says, taking a bite of his food. “Besides, I'm a lost cause.” I'm pretty sure part of his burrito just fell out of his mouth. I choose not to comment.
“I know. But I want to help you.”
“I don't know...” he hesitates, but I can see that he will break easily.
“That girl, and every other girl in this school, will be falling at your feet within a month,” I promise.
“Fine.”
I can't help but feel satisfied.
3:11 pm
The real “Scarlett”.
One of the reasons why I chose Hope, Florida is because of my house. It's nothing fancy, especially compared to my home in Malibu, but it is exactly what I want. A 2 story house on the beach. On the bottom floor, the walls are basically glass, and the view of the ocean is spectacular.
At the back of my house, there is a huge stone wall that circles around the in ground pool. There is even a rock waterfall that is attached to the pool.
The best part... I know my parents won't want to visit me here. This house, as well as the town, is much too small for their taste.
I catch a ride home with Ethan, since I had rode to school with Stephan. When I get home, he is waiting for me outside. The security guys I hired are standing beside him.
“Want us to get rid of him, Miss Ryan?” one of the guys asks.
I smile, and look like I'm truly considering his question. Finally, I say, “Naw, he's with me. He's fine.”
I open the door, and Stephan follows me inside.
“My studio is in the basement,” I tell him.
He follows me down the stairs. “So, did you have fun at school?”
Absolutely not, I think, but I lie and say, “Yes. It was fine.” I smile, not offering him any more information. As soon as lunch was over, I regretted my decision to not leave with him. I would never get used to high school, or teenagers for that matter.
“Liar.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. It sucked. I'm not going to lie, high school sucks.”
“Yes, it does,” he agrees.
I switch on the light in the basement, and smile. This room, I quickly decide, will be my favorite. It will be my escape.
The walls are covered with white cloth, for better acoustics. There are a couple of small glass rooms. The first room has a pink drum set inside, and the other room has a microphone set up in it.
Huge amps, and speakers line up against the back wall, and on the wall above it hangs some of my guitars, and basses. I grab my favorite electric guitar off the wall, a cherry red Gibson Les Paul, and plug it into my Fender amp. I turn it on, letting the tube warm up, as I put the strap over my shoulder. I pull the mic stand up to meet my height, and tap the mic.
“Flip the red switch,” I tell Stephan, motioning towards the very large soundboard that has two computers set up in front of it. He does as I say, but doesn't say a word. He just watches me in amazement.
I strum the guitar, and shake my head. I haven't played this guitar since the move, and it's extremely out of tune. I turn on my guitar tuner, and begin tuning my guitar. It only takes a few seconds. I'm used to tuning it fast on stage. I then turn my amp to distortion, and turn on a drum pattern.
Then, I lose myself in my music. My hand glides up and down the familiar neck of the guitar. I'm smooth, never missing a beat, always hitting the right notes.
The song I'm playing, it's different than what I normally do. I haven't even shown this particular song to my producer because I know that he won't record it... And if he did, he would butcher it. He would take away the raw guitar, and add some computer animated shit that I hate.
My music is popular. But I don't want to be popular. I want to be good. As long as my dad is my manager, I will never be able to do what I want. And this is what I want.
Finally, I begin belting out the lyrics to my song. It's all me. Nobody helped me co-write. Hell, nobody else has even heard this song before. And as many times as I've performed in front of thousands of people, I've never been nervous, but I am right now. Maybe it's because I'm opening myself up, but I don't even care. I just play and sing. I perform like I would at a sold-out Madison Square Garden, because this is what I want. This song. This music. Me, playing... It's what I'm good at, and it's what I love.
I open my eyes as I hit the first chorus, and see Stephan looking at me with awe. He almost looks starstruck, which is kind of funny. But I feel good about it. I can tell that he likes my song. And I think he's in shock over the fact that I am good.
No, I'm not good, I'm AMAZING. AWESOME. INCREDIBLE. OUTSTANDING. Take your pick. And it's not me being cocky, or overconfident, it's me being truthful. I know that I wouldn't be where I am today if I wasn't better than average.
I honestly came from nothing. My family was an average family from the suburbs. My mom was a first grade teacher, and my dad owned a small business. Me and my older sister, Stacy, went to school, and made good grades... We were good kids.
I started playing music when I was three. That's when my parents bought my sister her first guitar. She was 10, but quickly lost interest, so I picked it up. I had no idea what I was doing, but over time I taught myself, and my parents were surprised that I was actually good. I took guitar lessons, a
nd by the time I was seven, they were putting me in music competitions. They became obsessed.
My older sister, Stacy, essentially got ignored because of me. By the time I was 10, and she was 17, our parents uprooted us from our home in Seattle, and moved us to LA. They had plans for me. Forget the fact that Stacy was a senior in the middle of the school year. They were obsessed with me becoming a star. Nothing else mattered to them.
We were only in LA for a few months when Stacy disappeared. It's been nine years since I've seen her, and I'm not even sure if she's alive, honestly. My parents didn't look for her. They said it was her decision, that she ran away. She was almost an adult. She could take care of herself, so they said.
I still think about her everyday. I wonder how she is, where she is, or if she's even alive. But she is the reason I tried so hard. For her. I figured if I could prove to her that it was worth it, that she would somehow come back into our lives. And now, I'm sick of trying. I just want to be me. I want to live my own life. Which is why I'm here.
When the song ends, I turn off the electric drum beat and turn toward Stephan. He's standing there, staring at me.
“What did you think?” I ask.
“Tell me something,” he pauses. “If you could play, and sing like this, why the hell were you singing that crap they play on the radio?”
I shrug. “Because I do what I am told. Or, at least I used to. Not anymore.”
“Well, I must say, I like the real Scarlett. She's really talented,” he steps closer. “You are incredible.”
“Thanks,” I say. I turn off the amp, unplug my guitar and put it on the stand.
“So what happened to you? Why did you just give in, and do what others wanted you to do?”
I sigh, and take a seat on the black futon. Stephan sits beside me. I think about his question, and I'm scared to answer... I'm scared of what he will think of me.
“Fame happened,” I answer. “Music awards, chart topping songs, money, houses, cars... Millions of screaming fans...” I shake my head. “It goes to your head, no matter how hard you fight it. I let myself go, and I became this... power hungry girl. I wanted more. It was never enough.”
“I can see where it would be easy to lose yourself.”
I nod, sadly. “I could drink more alcohol at 16 than most grown men. I partied hard, and stayed drunk a lot. I even got into drugs for a little while. Nothing too hard, thankfully. I think I was just trying to fill the emptiness. I guess I thought that fame and money would be more fulfilling than it was.”
He looks at me, not saying anything. I'm pretty sure that I scared him.
“Sorry,” I say. “I shouldn't have sprung all that on you.”
“No, I... I'm glad you told me. I'm just shocked. You're nothing like the person you described,” he admits.
I laugh, bitterly. “Well I woke up one day, and I didn't know where I was or how I got there. I lost two whole days of my life. During that time, I have no idea what I did. I know that I played a show, and I only know that because I saw the video of my performance. I was out for all of it. Two months later, I bought this house, and here I am,” I shiver at the memory. “It scared me, Stephan. I'm 19. I thought I was invincible. But I'm not. I was well on my way to being a young, dead celebrity. Just another star who OD'd on drugs.”
“Wow, Scar...” he looks at me like he's trying to figure me out.
I nod. “Yeah, I know. I just... I feel like I got a second chance, and I'm not going to screw it up.”
11:21 pm
You know you're hot.
Stephan and me stay in my studio, chatting. I tell him my whole story. I start by telling him how I started playing. I talk to him about my parents. How much they used to love each other, and how they now can't stand to be around one another. When I told him about Stacy, I broke down and cried. It was the first time I had spoken about her to anybody outside of my family. It felt good to be so honest.
After I opened up to Stephan, he seemed to open up to me without hesitation. He told me about his mom and dad. His dad died a few years ago, and his mom remarried Ethan's dad. He said it was a huge adjustment and he wasn't happy at first, but he did admit that Ethan wasn't “that bad”. He also told me that the car he drives was his dad's car, which is why nobody but him is allowed to drive it.
We were in the middle of talking about his races when I gets a phone call from Alec.
“It's my friend with the car,” I tell Stephan excitingly. I answer my phone and put it on speaker. “Alec!”
“Hey gorgeous,” he greets me with his normal flirty tone. For some reason, it makes me uncomfortable in front of Stephan. “You ready to come back to California yet? I miss you.”
“No way! I love it here!” When I look at Stephan, and he's glaring at my phone. “Hey, I was wondering if you were still wanting to sell your Boss 429...”
“For you, anything,” he says. “In fact, I'll deliver the car myself! It'll give me time to see you! I have a few weeks off. Think you can put up with me a couple days?”
“Yes! Oh, and I've made friends! You'll love them!” Now I'm excited.
“Any boyfriends?”
I feel my face start to blush. “Um...” I am not quite sure what to say. Stephan is not my boyfriend, but he definitely has the potential to be. “I've only been here three days, Alec!”
“What's his name? Is he nice? Or am I going to have to beat him up?” he jokes with me.
I look up at Stephan as I reply. “Stephan, yes, and no.”
“Is he as hot as me?”
I choke out a laugh. “Maybe more so. He's extremely sexy. And he's also staring at me while we talk, so that is the end of the conversation for now.”
“Fine, Scarlett Ryan, but this conversation is far from over. And tell him if he hurts you, I will kill him.”
“Consider the message delivered,” I say, looking at Stephan, who is trying not to laugh. “I'll see you soon, Alec.”
“Later!”
I hit end on my phone.
“Your friend is... interesting,” he says. “So is that Alec Torch?”
I nod.
“So I'm hotter than him?” he asks, raising his eyebrow.
I put my hands on my hips, and look at him bashfully. I am embarrassed, so I try to play off the conversation. “Come on, Stephan, you know you're hot.”
“Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it,” he smiles, and then clears his throat. “So, just to clarify, you still don't want in my pants, right?”
I glare at him, but can't help but smile. “I'm pretty sure that I made a bet that you would never, ever see me naked. I hate losing. So yeah, I'm going to have to pass.”
Stephan looks at me with his green eyes, and I remind myself to breathe. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I won't.” It's a lie. He knows it. I know it.
“Whatever you say,” he winks.
Not too long after that, I walk with Stephan to my front door. I'm pretty sure that the both of us are exhausted from the previous night, and it's now well after midnight. After we say good night, I go upstairs, take a shower, and go straight to bed. I don't even take the time to blow dry my hair because I'm so exhausted.
Thursday, September 10
7:30 am
Somebody like you.
When I wake up this morning, I promise myself that I'm going to go to bed at a sensible time tonight. Of course, I know that's not going to happen, but I'm more than ready for the upcoming weekend so I can sleep in.
When I look in the mirror, I let out a squeal. My hair is sticking up all over, and I remember that I went to bed with wet hair. I quickly comb through it, and put it in two braids. I straighten my bangs. Then, I get dressed in a rush, again.
I run out the door, and smile when I see Stephan standing outside. “I want to ride in your car today,” he says.
I don't have to be asked twice. I open my garage door, and unlock my car. “Get in.”
Stephan and I get in the car,
and I back out of my driveway. My security guard, Bob, follows close behind in his big, black SUV.
When I take off, I decide to show off a little bit. I don't even get close to flooring it, but Stephan and me are both thrown back on the seat. I shift out of first, and love how the car jerks as I shift into second, and then third. It only takes a few seconds to get up to 75. I let off the gas and slow down to 45, which is speed limit.
Did I mention that I love my car? Cause I DO.
“I want to drive your car,” he pauses. “No, I need to drive your car.”
I laugh. “I actually don't let anybody else drive it. Not even my mom, or dad.”
“What about Alec?” Is that jealousy I hear in his voice?
“Once,” I admit. “But I was extremely drunk, and he only drove it five miles from his house to mine. Besides, he has a car that is much more expensive than mine that he lets me drive all the time.”
“I was wondering something...” He pauses mid sentence.
“Yeah?” I ask, when he doesn't continue.
“You and Alec... Are you two more than just friends?”
“NO!” I say immediately. “He's like an older brother to me. That's it.”
“I saw pictures of you two on the internet.”
My face suddenly feels warm. “We were both drunk that night. We never had sex. We just made out. I honestly don't even remember it, I was so wasted. I didn't know until I saw the pictures online the next day. After that night, we promised to never get drunk together again.”
I pull into the parking spot at school, but neither of us get out.
“It must not have been that great of a kiss, if you forgot about it.” He pauses, then adds, “But, if I kissed you, you definitely would remember.”
“I wouldn't know,” I flirt. “Maybe someday you'll have to... show me...”
“Maybe I will,” he says, leaning closer. His lips are so close, I can feel the warmth from them. My heart is beating so fast that I feel like it's going to beat it's way out my chest. But he doesn't come any closer. “Maybe I won't.”
