Being a Famous Singer Sucks - chocolatechip14 (short books for teens .txt) 📗

Let me introduce myself.

My name is Sky Parker, and I am 15 years old. You heard of me? Well … what can I say when I’m a famous singer?

Anyway, I have long, wavy dark blue hair that is let loose all the way down to my waist, and matches my eye colour.

Blue hair? Yeah, I’m really weird when it comes to colouring my hair. Whatever colour I like, it always turns out to be on my hair. I know, I know. It’s very original.

Anyway! I always wear my fashionable knee high boots, a cowgirl jacket, a black tank top, and baggy jeans. Very fashionable.

I seriously don’t know why my fans like my choice of clothes, I mean, they just copy my fashion senses and then say that I look cool. Seriously people!

Well ... I think that’s enough of the introductions; let’s get along to the actual story.

So there I am. In my livingroom with my boss. Who knew that I, Sky Parker, would be in the livingroom at 10 o’clock in the morning, trying to tell my boss that I need a break?I knew I didn’t.

I mean, I have been thinking yesterday morning about asking my boss the question I wanted an answer from, wondering if I would or would not ask my boss about my singing career, but I never knew that I would actually be in the room, sitting in my chair, moaning about how unfair this all is.

Well, the reason I need a break from singing is because I either sit around in my house (or rather a mansion) laying around and watching my boss stalking round the living room, trying to find what to do with me; or I would be in my recording studio, trying to record another album.

I mean, how boring is that? I want to be able to do something that does not include the word singing. I always hear people who aren’t famous saying to their friends, ‘wouldn’t it be cool if we were a famous singer?’ And I’m like; people, you so don’t want to become one.

Oh jeez. He’s staring at me. Probably thinking what a stupid girl I am, asking these questions. I hope he says yes. Please say yes! I’m sitting here, waiting for his reply from my question, which I asked about five minutes ago. I really need this. I swear though, if he says no …

“No.” Sigh. I knew he was going to say that. Time for my plan to come into action. This means: time to be a spoilt brat.

“Why? I really need this Martin!” I moan to him, hoping that he’ll change his mind.

But knowing him, the heartless 18 year old Martin Jones, he’ll probably be cruel and say the exact opposite of what I want. Damn him!

“NO!”

Jeez! I think he blowed my hearing up. God, why does he always shout so loud? I mean, whenever I annoy him, he shouts like a bloody maniac. Typical of him.

“Martin, I have been a singer for two years now; since I was thirteen. I need a break!” I say back, a little louder than I should have.

Ah well, he should listen to me for once. I need to be stronger. I need to try and not shout otherwise I won’t be able to stop. Trust me, I do that a lot.

“Sky, you wanted to be a singer, so you stay a singer. No breaks!”

Well that was a bit harsh.

“I didn’t want to be a singer! My parents wanted me to and I couldn’t say no to them after what happened to my sister!”

Oops. I should not have said that. Damn. I hope he doesn’t shout about her being a hopeless 20 year old again. Last time he did, I started a fight with him, and that was while I was signing autographs a year ago. It didn’t get out of the magazines until a few months after.

“Yeah well, your sister is a-“

“Don’t you dare say anything about my sister! If you don’t remember correctly I could beat your cute little ass up!” I interrupt him before I actually do lose control of my behaviour.

“You think my ass is cute?” He didn’t say that. Oh god, please say that I didn’t say that? Damn it. I did.

“Don’t change the subject Mr Martin Jones! Can I or can I not have a break from singing?” I ask again, since I think he forgotten the reason we were arguing.

“For god’s sake Sky, no! If you ask again, I swear I will order you to write more songs and perform them at more concerts!”

And I thought I was harsh.

“FINE! But don’t come to me when you need my help because I wont help you!” I shout, losing my self control.

Before he can say another word to me about shouting at him, I storm upstairs to my bedroom.

My bedroom has a very gothic theme. It has black walls, red curtains, red carpet, and, well … red furniture. Believe me though when I say this, it … looks … awesome!

Anyway. I storm over to my dressing table and before I know what I’m doing, I nock everything down from where it’s supposed to be. Then I storm over to my bedside table and push everything on the floor, making a huge mess. After that I storm over to my walk in wardrobe. Im about to pull it open when I realise something.

“This is just hopeless.” I say to myself out loud. “I am so childish. I better clean this up before Martin comes and tells me off again.”

So I turn around and walk over to the mess I made and put the stuff where it all belongs.

Half an hour later, I’m sitting in my limousine, waiting to be ‘escorted’ to the stadium. I’m going to have to be nice to my little boss for now.

I have a concert to go to.

As i enter the theatre, i look towards the stage where i will be singing in only a few minutes.

I hope that Martin won't be in the crowd. He has a habit of staring at me when he thinks that i am not looking.

And no, he doesn't like me in that way. He just likes how i am so uncomfortable around him when i am doing a concert.

Anyway, i walk over to the make up room and see that Millie is already there. In case you wondering who she is, she is my make up artist. You know, where she does my make up.

"Hurry up Sky! You need to be on stage soon." She says as i take a seat in front of the clean mirror.

"Sorry. Martin made me late. Again."

Millie sighs and she starts adding make up to my face.

A few minutes later and i am ready.

"You look beautiful Sky. Now go kick ass!" She exclaims.

That is what i like about her. She just says what comes to her mind. And she doesn't care if it's not the right thing to say. Just like me really ....

"Sky! Hurry up and get your ass on the stage! Now!" That was Martin shouting from outside the room. Apparently he doesn't want to disturb me from getting ready. What a load of bull that is!

As i give Millie a final hug, i walk out of the make up room and up to the stage. I take a step. Then all of a sudden there is a big cheer and applause. Oh. I'm already on the stage. I wondered what that big sudden push in the back was. Note the sarcasm. Stupid Martin. No not stupid, annoying.

"Alright people? This is my first song. Mr Know It All!"

-------------

Finally! The last song of the day! Here i go!

Over the sea and far away
She's waiting like an Iceberg
Waiting to change,
But she's cold inside
She wants to be like
the water,

All the muscles tighten in her face
Buries her soul in one embrace
They're one and the same
Just like water

Then the fire fades away
But most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're.... the other side of the world
to me

On comes the panic light
Holding on with fingers
and feelings alike
But the time has come
To move along

Then the fire fades away
But most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're.... the other side of the world

Can you help me?
Can you let me go
And can you still love me
When you can't see me anymore

Then the fire fades away
most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're.... the other side of the world
Ohh.... the other side of the world
You're.... the other side of the world
To me.

As i near the finish of the song, i look towards the side of the room to see that there is a side door. I hop i can run there quickly after the song. Seriously though, i have had enough of singing for a life time to come! And of my ignorant boss, Martin.

I step away from the microphone and off the stage after i say my thank you for coming speech to my fans that Martin expects me to say. I mean, why should i say thank you when he tells me to? Yeah, that's why; i would be shouted at for being ignorant and careless. Which i think is pointless when Martin always shouts anyway. Well .... i'm used to it.

As soon as i get to the door and about to pull it open, Martin steps out and slams it close. Real nice Martin, thank you.

"Sky, you have fans on the stage waiting for the autographs you promised. Hurry up over there!"

Sigh. I forgot about the autographs.

"Okay, i'll be there in a minute. Hey! I'm going!" I say as he pushes me towards the stage and the growing crowd.

I think