MANAGED // one direction (slow updates)

The Popstar - Fainting

THE POPSTAR

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I adjusted the headphones so they’d fit snugly onto my head. Once I did, I let them fall to my neck.

“Emma? Can you hear me?” My manager, Elle’s, voice sounded from the room, startling me. She was staring at me from behind the window.

I gave her the thumbs up before starting to adjust the microphone now. If I was going to record, I’d have to at least be comfortable right?

“Ok, now we’re going to do like a warm-up okay? Any song in particular you’d like?” She asked, her head cocked to the side slightly.

“Nah, you can pick.” I said hesitantly into the microphone.

Elle seemed to think for a moment. “How about Way Back When?”

A whirlwind of thoughts hit me, and I struggled to keep from crying out. Sure, it was upbeat, but that song always came with many memories, both bad and good. But I still smiled and nodded. Elle knew the story; she’d probably be exasperated if I told her again.

The music started, and his time I couldn’t hold them back. The memories tumbled out like water out of a broken dam, rushing to be reminisced. Suddenly, I wasn’t in the small room of the recording studio, I was somewhere else.

August 1998

I was 4 years old again, on the small swing set of the playground in my neighborhood.I remember pumping my legs up and down just like my father had taught me about a month ago. There were kids scrambling around the teeter-totter, and wrangling with the monkey bars. All in all, a regular day.

I took a few more pumps with  the swing, but eventually got bored. Both my hands and feet were starting to ache, and I wanted to spend as much of the day as possible at the playground. Before I could relinquish my seat to grabby George Perkins, I scanned the playground for possible options.

My eyes zeroed in on the big slide, which was usually full but seemed vacant enough. If I sprinted there I could probably make it. I took one more swing before jumping off. I could practically hear Georgie’s squeal.

I broke into a run, my eyes on the prize. Because I wasn’t looking where I was running, it was given that I’d probably bump into something. But that something just had to become a someone.

I could almost taste the mud and the mulch as I reminisced, the strange sensation of spitting up brown tasteless stuff. I had blinked a few times to check whether I was dead, before wriggling around to make sure I hadn’t broken any bones. Then I felt the body under me.

It moved like a snake, and that was enough to get me jumping up. When the figure did sit up, at first I saw messed up tawny hair. It had some mulch pieces in it, but with a good shake or two, they were out.

The boy now sitting in front of me looked me up and down, just like I’d been doing to him. After we both met eyes, he gave me a guilty grin. As I was standing up, I offered my hand to him and heaved him up.

“Sorry about that.” I could hear clearly, the still young voice of a girl’s flowing through his mouth. I shook my head.

“It’s okay.” Mum would’ve been proud if she’d known. She's always been pecky about me being courteous enough.

I didn’t know what to do, so I just gave a shy wave bye before streaking away  to the  slide where another kid looked as if he was having the same idea. I ended up going after him, but just when I was gripping the top of the slide to propel myself forward, I heard a familiar voice yell.