FAME│s.m

one

"Hall, you're a mess!" my father exclaimed as he came into the kitchen.

"Calissa tripped me," I grumbled, flicking the sauce off of my hands.

"Go get cleaned up, you're on cleaning duty when you come back," he demands as he helps me to my feet with caution, making sure he wouldn't dirty himself.

I groan as I head across the street toward my home. I'm careful as I step through the halls, making sure spaghetti sauce didn't drip off of my drenched body onto the wood floors.

After stripping my highly damaged clothes off my body, I step into the shower that was already emitting water droplets from the nozzle.

My face is stuck in a contortion of disgust and irritation as I scrub the tiny balls of meat and tomato paste out of my hair.

"This is just another bad day, Amari. It'll get better, okay?" I whisper to myself as I rinse off my front, watching the tainted red liquid swirl into the drain which is inches in front of my feet.

Once I'm cleaned, I jog to my room with a towel wrapped around my chest, picking out another plain white T-shirt and a black pair of leggings. Luckily, I had several sets of tennis shoes, as the ones I was wearing today were in no condition to be saved from the previous disaster.

I quickly step back into the bathroom, brush my hair and wipe away the excess of my, smeared, makeup.

After the merest self bicker over my appearance, I sprint back over to the restaurant, even though it's clearly close to being an abandoned lot and it was unnecessary to rush.

Socorro Springs was famous as a roadside town where you could chat with friends, fill up on gas, and have a bite to eat in the 1920's-1980's. But now, it's basically a deserted island since they constructed a different, quicker route for travelers.

It was less than rare to have a full house in our diner. It more commonly held 5 costumers at most. I was living in a dead town because my father strained on moving.

My mother's grandmother loved this place, she spent almost all of her life here. She gave birth and raised my grandmother here, then it was passed down another couple generations. That's the only reason we've stayed. It was all three generations' favorite place to be. And my dad wanted to give me the hopeful opportunity to adore this little town as well.

There wasn't much. A clothing store, a gas station, our diner, a motel, a few houses, a market, and other buildings necessary to build the smallest town there is. Everything was within walking distance, basically. I don't even know why we had a car- we rarely traveled outside this dumb, old place. Don't get me wrong, I found slight beauty here. The sunsets were to die for, along with the sunrises- or at least the few I've seen. I just wish it was more populated.

••••

"I can't believe they made it!" Calissa cheers, bouncing around the room.

"Who?" I question as I join her in the living room.

"The SidemenFC have succeeded to the championship against The FarrowsFC!" she replies, with a tone suggesting I should've known that already.

"You talking about soccer again?" I chuckle, heading into the kitchen, which was branched off of the living room.

"Of course I am," she scoffs jokingly, imitating my shadow.

"Look," I sigh as I reach into the fridge for a bottle of water, "what has you so excited about a dumb team anyways?"

She gasps, as if she's majorly offended. "The SidemenFC is a group of really attractive men who aren't bad at kicking around a soccer ball," she informs.

"They're not bad looking, but I'd rather make out with a cactus than one of those dicks," I respond as I open the bottle that was in my hands.

"They are not dicks!" she gapes.

"Most of them are," I state with a laugh. "The only nice one, the only one I would care to meet, is the one with the beard."

"Josh?" she questions with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, him," I nod, taking a few gulps of water. "All I hear about him is his constant charity work while the rest are off at bars, hanging 'round with whores."

"Amari, you only listen to the twisted tabloids! They lie!" she exclaims. I roll my eyes at her, dismissing the conversation. "Whatever, but I know you secretly drool over them," she quickly blurts, racing out of the kitchen.

"Totally," I grumble, sarcasm intertwined with that one word. As I pass the television in the living room, I take a quick glance at the screen.

"-And I just wanna thank all of the fans out there for supporting us. You're the reason we're going big instead of going home," the bearded wonder, Josh, says into the microphone with a gigantic smile. He was sweating from head to chest, as that was the lowest body part I could see.

"Anything your teammate might like to add?" the interviewer asks from beside Josh, pointing to a blond boy that was stood behind them, staring at his phone harshly. He was unaware of the scene in front him, clearly.

"Simon!" Josh calls out. The blond picks up his head, gives a disgusted expression as he examines the camera, and walks out of shot.

"Prick," I mumble, continuing my walk to the front door of my house. I glance around outside, then step out into the sunshine, smiling as the warm rays gently touch my chilled flesh.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Calissa smiles, standing beside me.

"It really is," I whisper, shutting my eyes as I let my body delve into the heat.

Breaking my peaceful silence, Calissa whines in my ear, "Can I at least explain to you who and what the Sidemen are?"

"Fine," I huff, taking a seat at the little café table that sat on the front porch. She takes the other chair and sits down in a rush.

"They're just a group of 18 year old boys who love to play soccer. All of them are friends with one another, and they're all quite attractive, to be honest-"

"You're telling me all of the stuff I already know, Cal," I interject.

"Fine, I'll just get to the point." She scoots around in her chair, making herself comfortable. "They're all super nice. Some have troubles with showing that, but doesn't everybody?"

I look at her as if she has some wisdom, but also as if she's crazy.

"Just give them a chance. Dig deeper into who they really are, and I'm sure you'll grow to love them as much as I do," she concludes. "Never judge a book by its cover- or by what other people say. Make your own opinions without any influence."

She gives me a half smile before standing, taking a solemn walk to the restaurant. I grunt, understanding where she's coming from. But something about that soccer team just made them unlikable to me.