Hollywood's Princess [PUBLISHED]

Chapter Thirty-Two: Stutter McStutterson

The sweat was already dripping to the stage and I may probably already look as unattractive as I can be under the spotlight, but just like any ordinary concert, this should mean nothing.

I did another song, dancing around onstage and reaching my hand out to the audience every once in a while, trying to keep myself on key instead of panting into the mic. When I heard the last beats of the song, I twirled around and smiled to the crowd, once again, they cheered.

“So are you still good?” I questioned, trying to catch my breath as I reached out for my water bottle, drinking the rest of the contents that was left. I was met with incomprehensible replies – I’ll take that as a yes.

Looking back at one of the stage crew members, I gave them the signal and they nodded, bringing over a black stool and a mic stand. They set it up for me as one of them handed me my trusty acoustic guitar. I did a quick strum to test if it was connected to the speaker and when I heard a satisfactory tune, I sat down.

I took a deep breath, my fingers drumming nervously on the guitar. The venue went silent, their eyes on me, probably wondering why I was suddenly so quiet. I lifted my eyes up and I cleared my throat before speaking.

“This concert is basically my usual end-of-summer performance,” I started to explain, “And trust me, these past months was just… wow.”

I have no idea what goes inside a fan’s mind when watching a concert, because even with just those few words, they started yelling once again. I haven’t even said anything near exciting.

“I’ve concluded a few things,” I told them, “One, is that there are three guys that I consider extremely special in my life.”

Another round of cheers. Come on people, are you even listening?

“First, I think all of you know this, is my best friend, Adam Nicholas,” of course, there was a mixed reaction from those who actually agreed with me and those who refused to ship me with him. Darling, there’s nothing to ship. Still, after the rumors and news that erupted since his visit, people started to link me romantically with him, I would have agreed weeks ago, but now it’s different. He’s still probably up there on the balcony, having the best view of this concert.

“Second, which surprises me the most, is my dad,” I could almost picture my father as one of the many faces in the crowd. He’ll smile, and the wrinkles by his blue eyes will appear. It’s true though, I couldn’t hate him, even if I tried, but I can hate Kate. We were both selfish in our ways, stubborn and extremely hard to convince, but that’s the connection we have, it’s impossible to break.

“To my future stepmother, Kate, I hope we’ll get along well,” I faked a smile, but oh she’s completely dead to me. Some cooed at my display of affection to whoever my dad’s marrying, but the truth it, I’m going to crush her like a little bug who suddenly decided that it was alright to just go buzzing around my garden.

“Lastly, this other guy,” I spoke, finally feeling nervous about my decision, “I know you’re watching, and you should know that I really hate you, as in a despise you.”

I had to bit my lip to prevent a giggle from escaping my mouth. Of course, it caused a confusion, but I recovered quickly, “I hate you for doing everything that you did and you suddenly just walked away, though I know it’s my fault,” I explained, “And I hate you because you’re making me take back every single word that spouted out of my stupid big mouth.”

Would I confess and say that I love him in front of this big crowd? Heck, no.

The best part of being a celebrity is dropping the hints and confuse the hell out of people. It’s entertaining and stressful at the same time.