2: Bubblegum Bitch

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~A


"What the hell is that guy doing here?" I glared at the brunette man I had ran into earlier that now stood before me. Hair styled nicely in contrast to the tangled mess it was before, coffee stained shirt exchanged for a simple dark blue button down and beige Telecaster in hand.

"Are you deaf, woman? I just told you this is Niall, the new guitarist." Louis scoffed, shaking his head at me while the man I just found out the name of gave me a very dramatic eye roll.

He's got temperament, that's for sure.

"This has to be a joke." He muttered to himself, though I heard him perfectly clear. So I guess that answers Louis' question.

"A very sick one at that." I huffed in annoyance as Louis looked inquisitively between the both of us.

"I take it you already know each other, but we don't have time for any details. We're on in one." Louis spoke before quickly walking away. I slightly panicked as I realised there was only one minute left. A mic stand was placed right in front of me on the mark in the centre of the small stage, where I slid my black glittery mic into.

"So you're the new guy." I stated rather than asked, making sure to keep my voice low to not interfere with the ongoing interview a few feet away.

"So you're the oh so praised singer. Hard to believe everyone says you're such a nice person when you're acting like a bitch." He was smiling through this, which gave me a good idea of his sarcastic nature.

That makes two of us then.

"I wouldn't have acted like a bitch if you didn't act like a prick." I smiled back just as sweetly, batting my eyelashes.

"I wouldn't have acted like a prick if you had been watching where you were going."

"I highly doubt that." I scoffed, causing him to drop his ironic smile and glare at me. He closed the small distance he had from me, his eyes shooting daggers at me. But if he thought I'd be intimidated, he thought wrong.

"That bratty attitude is gonna get you in trouble one day." He sneered in a bit of a heavier accent, rolling the r's a bit more. Calmly, I shrugged.

"That's none of your fucking business, is it now?" I simply responded, my heart pace picking up when I heard my name being announced by the host.

"Don't fuck this up for me." I quickly told him as he went to his place on my right.

"I'm perfectly fine, sweetheart. Don't fuck this up for yourself." He chuckled, but I paid no further attention to him. Hearing the crowd's applause and the countdown from five in my earpiece, I took a deep breath, letting it out from my nose and closed my eyes.

"Three, two, one." And the guitar began playing the second I opened my eyes and looked straight to the camera facing me. The beat slowly overtook my body, allowing me to get lost in it and loosen up. I was so focused, I forgot it wasn't Michael playing for the first verse of the song. I focused on being expressive, which was something I always paid attention to until I felt comfortable enough to take my mic and begin moving around. The chorus was definitely the most known part of the song and I was pleasantly surprised to see plenty of people knowing the words to it.

Reaching the second verse, I had my attention to the audience rather than the camera. I always preferred doing so to get the reaction of actual people I could see in the flesh. The stage wasn't that big, but it was big enough to allow for the to walk around without getting in anyone's way.

Oh, dear diary, I met a boy
He made my doll heart light up with joy
Oh, dear diary, we fell apart
Welcome to the life of Electra Heart

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