Hidden Fame

SUGAR while Studying

New chapter!

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 As I thought about my rough dating life, tears came to my eyes.  I slammed my car door closed and cruised over towards a major road.  Once I was on the highway, I started to blare music through the speakers of my hot pink convertible.  Although quite conspicuous and attention-drawing, I still liked it more than the alternatives: the black Land-Rover or sleek limo that I arried at concerts, premieres, and studio sessions in.

As I cruised through the beautiful streets of Los Angeles, I felt an urge to call Jason, even though I knew what the result would be: I had hurt him one to many times for us to ever be friends, although he had forgiven me.  He still talked to me sometimes, and I knew that even though he would forgive me, I could never forgive myself.  Of course, he also lived in Dublin, where I had lived before I got a record deal.  In our old school, we had been the populars, except in a different way than what you may expect.  Best friends, we had instead ruled a peaceful kingdom.  Not to say that some of the reckless teens in our grade didn't beat each other up or have fights, because they deffinitely did.  

I reached our mansion five minutes before my custom Rolex watch reached ten.  I had gone from the studio to dance practice; I was an all-around star.  Most people think that stars use autotune, but I always sang in my concert, and I also danced rather than having dancers around me while I stood awkwardly.  Rehearsing until nine, I then went out to get a bite to eat with a friend that I hadn't talked to in forever.  Now, as I cruised into the five-car garage, it was time to do my homework: one of the downsides to now attending school.  Grabbing a pre-made smoothie from our industrial-sized silver fridge, I yelled out a greeting to my mom before running up to my room before running up the grand staircase to my room.  I would rather not have to be interrogated by her on where I had been for all of that time. 

Once I reached my room, I flicked on the lightswitch.  My room was painted last when I was sixteen.  Three of the walls had been painted a neon pink (almost blindingly so), while the wall with a balcony in the middle remained a bright hue of blue.  My mother hated it, stating that it would blind me.  However, two years later, I still kept my eyesight kind of intact.  Sure, I had around negetive six in both eyes, but I still was able to see!  

The rest of the furniture was just as eccentric, pretty much describing my personality.  My butterfly chandelier, which had been mentioned before, hung happily in the middle of the room, while my blue sheets stood out against my white canopy-bed.  My closet's double doors resided on the opposite side of the room, with my vanity close by.  The rest of my furniture remained a bright white, as my mother insisted.  The only reason why I got away with as much as I did was because at the time she had been trying to make up for our move.  Even though I was the reason for the move, she still felt guilty that we were indeed having to move from where we had been living happily for most of my life.  That, and the fact that I was now our family's main source of income.  My dad worked as an accountant, and though paid well, it was nothing compared to my income.

If you were to venture into my closet, you would be amazed.  Not only at the size, the crystal chandelier, or the sheer amount of clothes, but because of how creepily organized the room was.  All of my clothes were organized by color and brand (obviously my geek clothes resided on a different rack than the others).  I spent way too much time in this room; my clothes were like my babies. Now although you are probably thinking that this means that I spend all of my money on the clothes, but that isn't true.  I set apart a large majority of the money in a college fund, and now I could easily go to whatever college I wanted too.  Then, my mom took a huge chunk out of the remaining sum, and I got to keep the rest.  

I flopped down on my bed; the last thing I desired to do right now was my homework.  My eyelids fluttered, and I knew soon that I would fall asleep.  The moment my eyes closed, my brother had to burst in.

"Mom said you'd fall asleep if I didn't come in.  Start your homework, big sis.  You don't want to get worse grades than your little brother!" He mocked, showing mock sympathy.

Nathan was younger than me by fourteen months, and he never ceased rubbing in my face the fact that I was so much older.  While I was a senior now, he was a junior.  He never stopped going to school: he didn't have a pop career to support like I did.  I hated being called old, though.  I wanted to live forever, and I definitely didn't feel like I would be forever young when my (barely) little brother called me a big sister.  He always managed to get my mood down: either by making fun of me or telling me to do my homework.  

All I ever did was work.  Not to say that work wasn't fun, because I had a blast working with the dancers and vocal coaches, not to mention the other groups that opened for me on my tours.  I had quickly bonded with stars like Taylor Swift, One Direction, Ed Sheeran, and other popular singers.  Obviously, not all of them opened for me, but when they're on tour aorund me we meet up with them, and when I'm on tour over by them, we meet up as well.  For a short time, I had a romance with one or another star not to be named here, but besides that I preferred to stick with people that didn't have to put our relationship after his career.

Grudgingly, I sat up and grabbed the nearest book among the numerous text books now splayed across my comforter.  I hadn't even started, yet my brains had already turned to mush.  Normally, I could easily solve the equations which sat accusingly before my blurry eyes.  Sighing, I jumped off my bed, trudging into the adjoining bathroom.  I quickly undressed, jumping into my marble shower.  I turned on my iPod, and it began blaring from the speaker right outside of the glass wall.  With the press of a few more touches, warm water began pouring from the small holes in the ceiling.  I began singing All the Right Moves by OneRepublic.  All too soon, both my shower and the rest of the album Waking Up came to a terrible end.

I dried myself off with the warm towel that had been screaming my name out ever since the water stopped dripping.  I went to my closet, pulled out a bra, underwear, a random t-shirt and sweats, not caring if they didn't match at all.

Then, I sat down to the books.  Okay, really not.  Instead, after I finished half of it, I went crazy.  That, my friends, is what homework does to me.  When I was homeschooled, this was not a problem, because all of my work was homework.  But I guess that I have grown quite lazy since then, and now I had to complete this terrible plague.  I managed to sneak downstairs, grabbing all of the candy and brought it up to my room.  It was now time for some excitement.  My mom was one of those crazy health freaks, but that didn't mean that my siblings and I didn't have our secret stashes for those moments when candy was necessary for survival.  

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And thus ends the chapter!  What do you think she will do now that she is under a sugar-induced craziness?  You'll have to wait until the next chapter to find out!  Haha, now I feel like one of those tv show guys that have the cheesy microphones and always point to the camera at the end!  Haha, well, at least I'm a girl.  :)  That makes me cooler instantly! Ok, well, I'm going to stop talking now.

~HANNAH