❛𝑅𝐼𝑉𝐴𝐿𝑅𝑌 ❜ - 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙮𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣

prologue

𝙹𝚄𝙻𝚈 𝟸𝟶, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴: 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝙻𝚁𝚈 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝙳

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*gif*

*wdw song lyrics*

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𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗗 with a bright, metallic, shine coming from the ray of the sun beating down harshly, sweltering the people crowded in the city. A few unnoticed birds swept from building to building, contemplating where to build their nest. Down in an unknown alley, four teenaged girls stood, waiting for their carpool to arrive to their remote location. 

Cleo, personally, had no idea why their manager had requested them to arrive at the venue in which they were to perform at so discreetly. Their band, The Glowstick Girls, was mildly popular—one of their music videos reaching seventy million views— but not world famous or anything close to that.

Despite her heated protests—her manager, Brent Castillo, firmly insisted on a secretive entrance. As much as she didn't like taking orders, she sucked in her pride and went along—not wanting to disappoint the manager who had worked endless hours for the success of the girls band. Also, Brent was slightly intimidating, but Cleo would never admit that aloud. 

"When are they going to be here?" Scarlet whined from her perch next to Cleo. 

Hayley—who stood against the brick wall opposite to them—rolled her eyes and replied with an annoyed tone, "be patient Scar, how old are you... three?"

Scarlet pouted as Cleo snickered, "yeah, I think you're right Hay, she sure does act like it." 

Hayley sent her a disapproving glare, "I didn't mean it Cleo, it was a joke." 

Scarlet's pout deepened as she murmured, "aww I wanted to be three." 

Cleo cracked an amused grin, right before the two girls started laughing, while Hayley just gawked at the two. Adelaide, who had been quiet up until then, chuckled softly and added, "well I for one, think both of you act like three year olds." 

She did her best to sent Adelaide a murderous glare, but failed immediately—cracking up again. The sound of an engine sounded from Cleo's left, cause the girls' laughter to fade. 

A sleek, black limo with exquisite silver linings emerged from shadows and its luxury startled Cleo. It stopped a few feet in front of the four girls, and the passenger's door opened swiftly. A wealthy-seeming, middle aged man came from within, and waved to them—eyes lingering on Cleo, to her discomfort. 

"You are 'The Glowstick Girls', correct?" His voice came out squeaky, almost like he had a very dry throat. Internally cringing, Cleo piped, "that is correct. Are you our ride then?" 

He nodded, and without another word, slipped back into limo. Cleo exchanged an uneasy glance to her bandmates, while lingering at the limo's door. After a few moments of hesitation, the door popped open—revealing a boy with brown hair who was sending her a shy smile. 

"Um ma'am? The show starts soon, would it be okay if you get in a little faster?" He questioned sheepishly. His eyes went big at her silence and he stuttered quickly. "I—I didn't mean to be rude or anything. I'm so sorry."