Turning the Page (Ashton Irwin fanfiction)

Chapter 9

               “… Joshua Wilson!” Carson Daley yelled in the microphone as he announced the first artist to make it into the finale.  “Congratulations to Team Adam and Joshua Wilson on making it to the finals,” Carson Daley rushed to quickly continue due to the short time crunch of one hour this show has, “We will be right back to announce the next contestant who will continue on to the finale!”

               The lights dimmed down as the last five contestants, including Elizabeth and I, started to exit the stage. Even though I am used to it by now, I still get impatient about how they always go to commercial before they say the next contestant who is moving forward. Though whatever right. More time to calm myself down. Hopefully America didn’t see my sweat that was forming in my palms. I sat down on one of the few lounges backstage taking a deep breath as I do so to calm my nerves.

               “Whatever the outcome is,” said Elizabeth as turned to look at me, “I want us to still be friends. If I go or you go or we both go… I want us to still keep in touch.”

               “Of course Lizzy,” I smiled as I used the nickname I gave her during the knockout rounds.

               “Thanks,” she said, “Now if you will excuse me I saw a snack table over there. Want anything?”

               I looked over to where she was gesturing towards and decided against it. “Nah, but thanks for asking?” Lizzy nodded in understanding as she started walking, more like skipping, her way to the assortments of goodies.  

               “Wow it still surprises me every day that you are still here bitch,” said the real wicked bitch from the west as she sat down a little too close to my liking. Seriously, I just sat down!

               “Even though I don’t care,” I began not even looking at her rat like face, “What do you want?”

               “Nothing,” she said all sweet and innocent, “I just want to ask how you stay in this competition so long. I mean surely you know the only reason they chose you to audition was to be the joke contestant.” Bullshiz!

               “I think you should ask yourself that,” I fired back, “I am pretty sure more people are dying to know.”

               “Well everyone loves an underdog,” she replied gesturing to herself. I looked at her questionably. That doesn’t even make any sense. Aren’t underdogs supposed to be humble and the unexpected one of the bunch? Not a tall glass of vomit. “Think about it sweetheart. Ever since that battle, where Pharrell took pity on you and chose you, America sees me as the underdog. The one to rise to the challenge so to speak dear. Everyone loves an underdog, so don’t be so shocked when the next time you will see me is on the television screen and you sitting on your dirty old couch.” She grasped my hand with her red as blood acrylic nails that felt like knifes stabbing my skin. “Don’t feel bad. It was bound to happen anyway,” she finally said as she got up to flirt with one of the younger looking back stage helpers.

               “Slut,” I coughed louder than usual as she walked away, so she could here. Just as I expected, she turned around giving me her signature death glare which was the closest smile from her I will ever get. Mission accomplished!