The Rockstar & I

Chapter 1

“Oh Chelsea please? Pretty please with sugar drops and sprinkles on top?” Sarah begged of me for the millionth time.

“No Sarah. I have this paper to write and I can’t drop it for an evening seeing a crappy band. How will I get into med school if I have that attitude?”

Sarah, my best friend forever, had been bugging me for weeks to go with her to see her favourite band, Cold Vengeance, after her boyfriend had dumped her leaving her with a spare ticket. She had cried for two hours, shouted for one but then realised she still had her tickets so she got over him.

Cold Vengeance are not my idea of a good night out.  Their music is more high pitched than heavy. I prefer my rock more metal than emo. If Sarah heard me call them emo she would probably kill me.

“Chelsea the paper is due in like two weeks, one evening off will not kill your med application. You know I’d do the same for you.” She pouted and pulled a sad face and I immediately began to feel guilty. She has this brilliant way of persuading me to do almost anything for her. She has been my best friend for the four years I have lived in LA ever since my family made us move here for everyone else’s benefit but mine. I missed New York so much. I miss the rush and all the people and being constantly busy. LA was far too relaxed and laid back for me. I wanted to be on the go all the time and rushing everywhere but here everything moved at a snail’s pace.

“OK I will go with you but I am not standing outside in a queue for several hours before or after the show just to try and meet the band. Deal?”

Sarah screamed and jumped on me in excitement.

“Freaks”

“Losers”

“Emo much?”

The usual taunts of the jocks and the cheerleaders floated over to us from where they sat in the middle of the cafeteria like demigods on their thrones watching their public and judging their every move. My friends and I are not freaks or losers and only Lee is an emo and he is proud of it. We just listen to music made by real people playing real instruments and we like to wear black. It doesn’t help that we are all pretty brainy. We were social pariahs in this place. Here no matter who your parents are or what car you drive you weren’t popular if you didn’t follow the crowd – I had first-hand knowledge of that. We had all become so used to the taunts that now they just washed over us without us paying them any attention.

Sarah began to plan her outfit for that evening whilst trying to work out what time the tour bus would arrive and leave just so she could be there and try get an autograph. I zoned out and focussed my attention on the envelopes in my hand. More application forms to send off. I must have applied to every college going that would help me get to med school. I really wanted to be back home so Colombia was my first choice. I was lucky in that money wasn’t a problem so I could choose where I wanted to go but the difficulty would be telling my parents that I wanted to leave LA and worse of all go to college to study something other than how to run their successful business. My brother got to do what he wanted but when it came to me it had always been assumed that I would take over. I had no desire to run the company I wanted to be a doctor.

The day dragged on as slow as ever. Sarah did not stop talking about the concert. I couldn’t wait for school to be out so I could grab a few hours on this paper before I had to go fulfil my best friend duty. Even studying digestion in biology failed to excite me. Finally the bell went and I made a run for it all the way to my beloved Honda motorbike. Red and black just like my hair. Super-fast just like my old lifestyle. Cherrybomb she was called, the same nickname I had been given by my daddy when I was little.