Sex, Drugs and Olly murs

Chapter 1

The alarm rang through my ears and my dad shouting didn't help my pounding headache. *7:30* 'what the fuck?' I thought. I sat up, smoothing my mane of brown hair and rubbing my eyes. I yawned , blinded by the slits of light through the curtains. My room was messy, busy and bright. Block pink curtains, rose wallpaper covered my feature wall and modern furniture filled the large room. My window was huge, adding air and light into the room. My other walls were covered in pictures of me and my friends and posters of various celebrities that i dreamed of meeting. My dads voice rang through my ears again. Eugh.

'Chrissy!' 'Up now, we're already late!' My dad shouted up the stairs.

'What the fuck are we late for' i wondered. I pushed back my duvet and padded to my wardrobe, 'rolling stones tank wand bleached hot pants i think' i pulled on my clothes and brushed my hair, god it was hard to tame. I frowned as it stuck out everywhere. I brushed my teeth and added mascara to my lashes and deep red lipstick. I pouted. 'Looking good' i said to my reflection. Slipping on my vans i ran down the stairs to dad standing with the door open and car keys in hand. My dad had jet black hair, smoothed back with so much gel it almost looked greasy, he was wearing a white shirt and stonewashed jeans and puma suedes, always then one to try and keep in fashion with young people but he failed miserably bless him. My dads cheekbones were defined, his nose was quite small, and he was so tall compared to me, i must get my height from my mum. He had his rockstar ray bans on the bridge of his nose. I love my dad, he's cool, he's rich and he's the best dad in the whole wide world.1

'Where are we going?' I quizzed him.

'Don't you remember?' He replied

'Nope?'

'I'll tell you in the car, now shift!' He gave me a gentle push out of the door.

Our black mercedes sat glittering in the sunlight on our gravel driveway. My dad pressed the key and i climbed into the front seat, the cold leather cooling me down. My dad was rich, i'm not sounding boasty i hope. My mum, well i don't even know her name. I hear from people that my mother was a druggie, a shameless trampy druggie. At first i didn't want to believe it but, you know the truth hurts, thats why many lie. Like my dad, he didn't have the heart to tell me about my disgraceful mother.

'So where are we going' i said the wind blowing in my face.

'We have the Olly Murs gig remember and we need to get there pretty early to set up, i said you'd help out by preparing the dressing room' my dad replied.

'Gee thanks dad' i rolled my eyes.

A saturday of preparing a dressing room for a celebrity who would obviously be demanding and want everything, replacing the air, ridiculous things like that. I suppose if i ended up meeting him it would be ok, an Olly Murs autograph would sell for a bomb on eBay. Could do with the cash at the moment.

Driving along the motorway, all the windows down, the wind stinging my face was amazing, this was the hottest british summer on record and London was the place to be, i spotted a sign: 'LONDON, 12 MILES' not long now, i thought smiling.

About half an hour later my dad pulled into the o2 backstage car park. It was deserted, apart from a blue bubble car fiesta, it was cute!

'Hop out sweetie, through the double doors, first door on the left, i'll see you later' he said, giving me a kiss.

I jumped out the car and waved at my dad and plastered a fake smile on my face. He drove off.

Gee thanks, i thought again. I pushed through the double doors. There was a long corridor, with doors numbered, there were so many! I sauntered down the hall, my shoes sinking into the red carpet as i walked and pulled the handle on room 7 where 4 men were sat laughing. I instantly went red, i was shy around new people.

' hello, you must be Chrissy' a rather large muscular man said.

He wore black sunglasses with a clear earpiece stuck firmly in his ear. He must be security i thought. He was actually quite good looking, young, fit, strong. He was my type. But i would never go for him, i get the guys to go for me. I play hard, im very defensive when it comes to guys, i'm still a virgin, i've never touched drugs, alcohol or anything that would harm me. My dad brought me up well.

The Security Man stood up and shook my hand. He had a strong grip on my tiny boney hand. I was skinny, not too skinny but skinny, compared to the huge guy stood in front of me, i was a twig.

'Nice to meet you, I'm Jerome, olly's security' he said, in a deep voice.

I squeaked a little.

He towered over me, i felt like a mouse. Another man, a short skinny man stood up next. He had dirty blonde messy hair, tattoo's and lots of piercings. I recognised him from somewhere i just couldn't put a name to his face. He looked like a guy i saw in kerrang magazine once but i couldn't remember.

'Hey Chrissy, I'm Olly's Drummer' he said, him too shaking my hand and returning to the sofa.

The third man stood up, in a white suit with a rolex secured firmly to his wrist. Olly's Manager Maybe. He was flash and up himself, all the things i really dislike.

'Chrissy, its good to meet you, Im olly's manager' he said in an american accent.

I could barely understand him, he spoke so fast and the accent didn't help. The fourth man, didn't even get up to greet me, rude i thought.

'Come on jude' the security guard said

The guy just ignored him. He looked very familiar actually.

'Well chrissy, this is olly's piano guy,

Jude, i don't know whats up with him today' the security man continued.

Then all of a sudden Jude stood up and slowly headed out of the room, even ruder i thought. Well it was good to meet all the people behind the scenes of olly's career, i mean it can't all be down to him can it!

All three of the men led me to the dressing room, they gave me a checklist and let me get on with it, independence is what a girl like me needs! The list was pretty long, i wasn't used to cleaning, i never bothered. It went on and on, the pointless little things demanding celebrities want, eugh, i'd hate to be famous and stuck up, but i'd like to be famous though.

1. Clean Dressing table

Yawn

2. Hoover Floor

Even bigger yawn

3. Polish mirror

Eugh

4. Check lights work

Omgggg

5. Clean up sick from bathroom

You've got to be kidding me. I have to clean up sick, wait till i get my hands on my dad...

There was a box of cleaning products and rubber gloves on the side, i began polishing the mirror and the dressing table. The amount of dust on this thing, it was coming off in kilo's. Dumping the towel in the black bag i had been give i check the lights. Then opened the door in the bathroom. The smell instantly hit me. Don't they have cleaners round here, ew. I peered round the door frame, a pool of orange liquid and colour lumps covered the toilet and the floor around it. Screw this i thought, throwing the rubber gloves on the floor i stormed out of the room and up the corridor. I wasn't having this, i agreed to clean the dressing room, but the whole sick thing, thats a whole different kettle of fish, no way was i setting foot near that catastrophe.