Oxymoron Of Us

Chapter 1

Even through my thick, pink walls I could hear noisy guitar riff. I groaned and covered my head with my fuzzy purple pillow. It was 6 a.m. in the summer, and Clay was already at it. I guess that's what you get for living in a house full of artists.

"York! Get up! its a new day!" my mom says as she prances, yes prances, into my room. She is already wearing her baking apron and flinging around a wooden spoon. Typical.

"Ugh Mom! Its the third week of summer! Give me a break! Plus, I know you just want me to get up so you can have a tester for whatever new breakfast you concocted in the kitchen," I groan rolling over so I face my mattress.

My mother rolls her eyes and says, "oh c'mon York! sleeping is for the weak! Clay and Nate are already up! Besides, I just finished making cinnamon rolls..."

I give her a knowing look before saying, "I knew it."

My mom sighs and starts walking to the door. "Just hurry it up, okay? Both of your brothers are too 'busy' to eat."

I yawn in reply as my mother leaves the room. My family has always been this way. First you had your adoring, rather protective, tries-to-hard-to-be-cool, mom. Then you get my super-talented-but-to-busy-for-life brothers. Then you have me, the one who holds everything together, the responsible, does-all-the-chores-but-has-dreams-too type. The hardest part-no one in my family really gets me.

I groggily pull myself out of bed and get ready for my favorite part of the day-morning routine. I smile as I open my closet and gaze upon the array of jackets, silky tops, and mini skirts before me. I love the feeling of picking out a new outfit for the day. I always base my look on how I feel when I wake up: lazy, crazy, pretty, sleepy, or sometimes even rebellious. On this particular morning, I feel like a hipster. I scan the closet and find a pair of high waist shorts and a shirt that reads 'I woke up like this.' I laugh at its untrueness. There was no way in hell this rachet face was meeting the public eye. I decide the outfit is missing something, so I grab a plaid shirt to tie around my waist. Perfect.

I lay my outfit out on my bed, making sure I can get good lighting. I perch myself on a chair and lean over my bed with my phone snapping the perfect picture for instagram. Now for my make-up. I set up a camera on a stand next to my mirror. I click the record button as I apply my concealer, eye shadow, eye liner, blush, and lip gloss for my "hipster look" video. I add black wings over a smokey eye. That is totally a hipster look.

"York! Please come down! I NEED you to try these! I used brown sugar this time!" my mother calls from in the kitchen. I roll my eyes and quickly post my video and photos to all my social media accounts.

"Okay! I'm coming!" I yell, as I start walking down the stairs, my eyes fixed on my phone.

I hear my mom sigh when she sees what I'm doing. "York, please shut that thing off for just one second! I need you to give me an opinion here!"

I don't really want to fight, so I click my phone off and grab a cinnamon roll off the pan. I take a bite and mom watches my every move.

"Well....? What do you think?" she asks, rather excitedly.

I give her the best smile I can muster. "Its great mom, the best I've ever tasted." I think deep down my mom must realize I say that about everything she makes, but it never ceases to make her happy.

A huge grin spreads across mom's face. "Really? They are that good?"

I laugh. "Of course! You are the best chef I know." More like the only chef I know.

"Okay...well on that note, I should probably get to work...don't want to keep my people waiting!"

I smile and wave as mom exits the house and walks to her mini van. For a woman who owns a thriving line of coffee shops, she has always been modest with spending her money.

With mom gone, I pull out my phone again. I smile, proud to see that my make-up tutorial has already reached 12,000 views. Also, my outfit picture on Instagram has exceeded 6,000 likes. I scroll through my feed, all the way to the bottom where I posted my first picture. It was a photo strip of me and my ex-boyfriend Derek from the movie theater. It seems like a lifetime ago since then, even though it has only been a month. Its so weird to think that back then I was nothing but the quiet nice girl, the nobody, dating a nerdy mathlete. Now I'm on the way to being a Youtube sensation, leaving Derek and all of High School behind me. Since I've graduated, I get a chance to be someone new, someone amazing. Someone I used to wish I was, pre-youtube.

"HEY! Y! CAN YOU GRAB ME A BEER?" Nate yells from his lair. He is always locked in his room painting, drawing, or singing.

"SURE!" I shout back. pulling a budlight from the fridge. Nate just turned 21 a few weeks ago, and lets just say hes taking advantage of his new freedoms.

I walk up the stairs and march right into the last door in the hallway, having to walk past  muffled guitar riff on the way. "Here you go Nay-Nay," I say with a smirk. He hates to be called that. He glares at me with his hazel eyes and runs his paint splattered fingers through his brown hair. "Awe c'mon Yorkie! You know I hate to be called that!

I laugh and say, "whatever. Have fun painting Nate-the-great! Don't get too tipsy."

He smiles and rolls his eyes as I head back into my room. I flop down in my bed and start to go through my notifications. Apparently my most recent tutorial has reached 50,000 views. I smile and reply to as many nice comments as I can get to before moving on to look at twitter. It still seems surreal to me that so many people around the world take the time to watch my stuff. I am just a girl with a camera, a sense of fashion, and a dream.

On twitter, there is only one person that I care about. That person is Nicki Minaj. Ever since she released her first album I have been in love with her individuality and unique style. She always wears these amazing costumes and beautiful make-up to match. Also her music is amazeballs, even to a hard-core critic like myself. A few weeks ago, Nicki announced that she needed a new member for her make-up team. She created a contest so more unknown artists could have a chance at this amazing job. Of course, I was super stoked. This was my chance to show my fashion sense! So, I kind of created a youtube channel in hopes of winning her contest, and it kind of grew-really fast.

I sigh as I read yet another post explaining that the contest winner will be selected soon. I know its bad to get your hopes up, but I just cant help it! I just love Nicki so much! My phone makes a little beep, meaning I have a text message. I open it, but instantly regret it. I roll my eyes as my phone starts ringing. Melanie is my best friend and I love her, but I just can't stand her music taste.

"Hello?" I say, as I hear squealing from the other end.

"Oh. My. God. York! Harry Styles finally released his single album last night-CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! Its sooooo amazing! You HAVE to hear it!" Instantly my receiver starts spewing out an annoying tune that sounds like its being sung by a depressed gay guy, wallowing in eich self pity. Melanie knows I hate Harry Styles and all the members of the now deceased One Direction. But that doesn't stop her from getting all fan-girly on me.

"Ugh! Please shut this off! You know how much I hate pretty boys!" I say over the racket.

"Yes, yes, I know. But you have to admit-this song is THE BOMB!" Melanie squeals. "I am literally shaking just listening to it!"

I groan and hold the bridge of my nose. "You need to come over-ASAP!" Melanie practically shouts into the phone. "Walk over-NOW!"

I sigh and say, "alright, fine. But we better not talk about Greasy Hair the whole time. If we do, I'm out."

"Fine," she pouts, "just come over. I have some news about Jason too. I have to show you what he texted me last night!"

I laugh and say "alright, alright! I'm on my way over!" And with that, I slide on my navy toms and walk out the front door.

I never could have expected that just the next day, my whole life would be turned upside down.