We Aren't Just Sisters.We're Best Friends (Cimorelli)

Chapter 38 (End Of Tour)

*Amys P.O.V*

The tour bus rumbled silently along the road as we drove towards the huge building, its sight enlarging with every second.This show was going to be very important to us, seeing as it was our last show of our tour, and it was in Malibu, so we got to see our Dad and brothers for the first time in 2 months.

The bus slowly halted to a stop and Ike our driver, opened the door for us.We shuffled out and stretched our backs and and arms and other various limbs.

My sisters, our mom, Ike, Mike, our tour manager, Jerald, our body guard, and I walked to the back of the building to not get recognized by some of our CimFams, who were crowded by the front enterance and sprawled around everywhere, filming vlogs or on their phones, texting or playing games.

We successfully made it to the back and just as we opened the door, a loud voice called out,"Hey!What do you guys think you're doing?"We turned around and saw a large, burly man in a security guard's uniform with his arms folded across his chest.

"Oh, we, uh, we're performing here tonight."Scarlett answered, pointing to the band.

"Uh huh, sure you are.How do I know you're not just a crazy fan, like one of those Direct-freaks?"He questionned Scarlett.She raised one eyebrow, put a hand on her hip, and walked towards the moutain of a man.

"First of all, it's Directioner.Second of all, I suggest you stop bullying us because our bodyguard here, Jerald, may seem like a softie, but underneath, he could kick your little butt anyday."Scarlett sassed.The man seemed amused.

"Oh really?Well, I suppose th-"His mocking tone was cut off by a short, sturdy man in a buisness suit walking over and shouting,"Winston!What are you doing?"

"Oh um, hello Mr.green, sir, I was just, um, telling these young ladies that they weren't allowed to go in because they claimed they were artists, but they're just crazed fans."Winston replied.

"Mr.Winston, you do realize these are the artists, correct?You better be joking with me."Mr.Green said.Winston's face dropped.

"They-they are?"He stammered.Mr.Green nodded slowly.

"Yes, they are.This is Cimorelli, the main artist, and this is Scarlett, the opening act."He told him."Now, why were you yelling at them?"

"Um, well you see, sir, I wasn't yelling at them, I just have a very loud voice, and, um, they seemed like a bunch of 16 and 14 year olds,(which was a HUGE insult to Lisa,Katherine,Christina, and I, but probably a huge compliment to lauren,Dani, and Scarlett) and um, and um, well, I was just doing my job?"

"Okay, Winston, is this what you do to every artist that comes here?because if I'm correct, it's the fifth time this has happened in 2 months.Winston, you're fired."Mr.Green stated, breezing by the words like he did it everday, which he probably did, now that I think of it.

"But, but, Mr.Green, I need this job, I-"

"No, I'm sorry, you're fired.May you please leave?"And with a death glare and huff, he was gone.

"So terribly sorry about that,"Mr.Green said, fixing his collar,"I'm Mr.Green, the owner.It's very nice to meet you all."We shook hands with him and he let us in, where a cool blast of air flew over us.

"It's truly an honor to have you guys prforming here, especially on your first tour and last date of it.Now, here are your dressing rooms.This first one is Cimorelli's and the door over there, see it?, that's Scarlett's."He said, stuttering with every few words,'If you need anything else, just call me, okay?Okay, bye."And with that, he walked off to who knows where.