Miraculous Ladybug: Get me out of here

XY, more like X-Bye (ha ha got em)

You've probably guessed I like a bit of rock n' roll. Hell, most of the time I wore a hoodie with the Metallica logo on it. Believe it or not, semi-deaf people can still enjoy music. Metallica was one of my favourite bands, but I also enjoyed a bit of Pink Floyd and Black Rose. Even though I like most rock n' roll artists, there was one guy I couldn't stand. I'm not sure why, something about the guy rubbed me the wrong way.

The dude's name was Jagged Stone, and he looked about as ridiculous as everyone in KISS. So you know, long, messy black hair with purple highlights, eyebrows, clown make-up, and an black outfit that showed some male cleavage. Also, he had the worst fake British accent I'd ever heard. As someone who is ¼ British, I can tell.

While the guy really got on my nerves, my dad thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. And not just my dad, most people in Paris. Dad was always playing his music on the radio, making me want to go deaf in my good ear. Until one fateful day, that is.

See, for once in my entire life, Lady Luck was on my side, since the radio wasn't playing Jagged Stone trash. It was playing a song by some guy named XY.

"What the Hell is this?" Dad asked, glaring at the radio sitting on his microwave. Although, like many things in his house, the radio was kind of old, it still worked well enough so you could tell when it wasn't blaring Jagged Stone crap.

Now, this is going to sound hypocritical, but... the more I listened to that XY song, the more I actually kind of missed Jagged Stone. I know I just slandered Jagged Stone for a paragraph, but at least his (trashy) music sounded real (but in a bad way). XY's stuff sounded like it was put together by an AI. Yeah, it was catchy, but it was somehow faker than Chloé's personality.

"XY is number one on the charts!" a voice from the radio called, once the abysmal song finally finished.

"Number one on the charts?!" Dad exclaimed. "That song is number one?!" He looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "What is wrong with this city?!"

I honestly couldn't agree more, but it was about more than just the music...

"Jagged Stone has been making original musical genius for the past few years," Dad exclaimed. "How could they possibly think that repetitive junk is better?!"

"Dad, it's just a song," I told him. "Relax."

"No, Jonathan, it's not just a song," Dad grabbed my shoulders, almost shaking the life out of me. "This could affect the entire music industry! We could never have original music again!"

"I think you're blowing this way out of proportion," I said, looking off to the side. "Jagged Stone is still number two. He's not completely gone."

Dad sighed, letting my shoulders go. "Maybe, it's just..." He shook his head. "I've been a big fan of rock 'n roll for a long time, John. I've liked it since I was your age, y'know. Even younger! I used to knit while listening to the stuff." He laughed. "I suppose I'm a little passionate about it..."

"'A little' is an understatement," I grunted.

Dad just smiled at me. "Aw, John, you're just like how I was when I was your age."

I moved away before he could give me a noogie.

"I'm going to my room," I told him, creeping towards the stairs.

"Wait, John," Dad held out his hand. "I want to watch the news. Could you get your phone?"

I stared at him.

"Yes, yes, I know," Dad shrugged his shoulders. "I'm saving up for a new TV, I promise."

I sighed. I got out my phone, switching on the news app. And of course, it was showing a live interview with none other than XY. XY looked almost as fake as his music, with slicked-up blonde hair, a purple jacket with more male cleavage, and a golden chain around his neck. He held out a drink, a casual smirk on his face. I didn't need to look at Dad's face to know he already wasn't liking the interview.