Bubblegum Bitch » Payne

VII. Oreo Cheese Cake

Tessa Kade

Chapter 7: Oreo Cheese Cake



Everyone sees the rugged edge that surrounds me, no doubt that it is there but it doesn't mean I wish people could be real with me. It's always been yelling or fake smiles, even going as far as pretending to be my friend and I believe that's what hurts the most. Honestly I only make fights because people can't hold back the truth, they tell me how it is and don't put up with my shit. Now that doesn't necessarily mean that I enjoy talking to Liam simply because I know he'll fight with me but it plays a part.



I've almost always had to suck it up and deal with whatever the fuck the world decided to throw my way, but I did it rather gracefully. When I got my first batch of bad media I shrugged it off and told the press that I had enough of hiding myself. From then on everything got progressively worse to the point of where I am now; a girl whose got crazy vocal chords and a wickedly cruel personality. Nobody bothers me much anymore, nobody asks why I am how I am so the idea of people telling me what the see is intriguing.



Basically I've been sitting around in my dressing room for the past two hours, approximately seven hours from the time that I've seen Liam. At first I was grinning cockily and laughing off how angry he was when he stormed out. As the day went on though, I started to replay our conversation until coming across a singe specific thing that he had said to me. The more I thought about it the more upset I got and before I knew it I was ignoring the world and closing my eyes whilst laying on a tiny couch.




If you keep on portraying yourself as some all mighty popstar then you can't expect the media to treat you nicely.



It's not that the media part really effected me but the first part hit me hard when I thought about it the second time around. I'd never thought that I held myself so high on a pedestal and here is a rather complete stranger telling me that I do. Don't get me wrong I know that I'm a famous girl, really popular in the main stream radio group and I had no problem with that.



Everyone says that it's the fame that made me who I am but that's not the truth, that's honestly who I am, who I've become. It sounds funny like that but when I realized that I was being shoved and pushed around, told what I had to sing, I snapped. So in some ways it's the people closest to me that made me different, it was never the media and it never will be. They can go fuck themselves for all I care.



But why do I care what Liam thinks of me in the first place? Why is it that when he said it to me that I suddenly started to care? He's insignificant to me, a complete asshole who needs to mind his own damn business yet I really do feel offended. The actual fuck, when did this happen to me.



"Tessa?" A light call from the other side of the door pulls me from my thoughts.



"What?" I said in a monotone voice. I wasn't in the mood to do a concert, talk to people or even make an attempt to look nice.



"Hanna is here," The person spoke quietly.



"Okay?" At my response the door creaked open and in walked Hanna, my make-up artist and probably the most annoying person I'd ever met. She was only twenty five but acted as if she was living the teenage dream, dressing up like a high school-er and talking all high pitched. Half the time I zoned her out and the other half I was telling her to shut up instead of babbling.



"How are you today? Ready to go and knock 'em dead?" She grinned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes were trained on the large white make-up box sitting on my mirror stand, fingers plucking out various bottles and kits.



"Sure," I replied blandly, sinking further into the couch. My face was already bare of any kind of gunk that would enhance my features so that Hanna could do her work quickly.



"I heard that you hung out with Liam Payne today," She spoke preppily.



In a flash I was up and standing directly in front of her with wild eyes, "How in the hell did you find that out?"



My voice is icy cold and I'm surprised that the idea of being caught with the pop start again makes me so flustered. This is why I hate boys, they make life difficult and when they start to be intelligent it's all down hill. Maybe that's another reason why I don't date: boys are more complicated than they appear.



"It was a highlight on my favorite daily blog," She squeaked, waving a blush brush around for emphasis. I turned from her and took my bottom lip between my teeth.



I'd taken extra precaution when I'd left this morning, ensuring that I looked nothing like I normally did so I could sneak around. This wasn't good, not in the slightest and the only person to blame was Liam for being so casual and his God damn usual self. Does he not know that when you're famous you get stalked just about every where you go?



Before I realized what was going on my own nervous state had flushed out and anger replaced the feeling, my hand smacking a lamp off a nearby desk as I screamed, "Fuck!"



"Are you-"



"That fucking ass-wipe, no good, cookie cutter pop star is screwing everything the fuck up! It's like he doesn't even realize what the actual hell he does!" My words were rushed, fists balled as I kicked at a wooden side table, the thing rattling in it's place, "Holy fuck!"



"I think I'll just-"



"Have you ever met such an ignorant person before? And be serious with me Hanna, I don't need any fucking tongue twisters," I snapped at her in her shuffle for the door. Her body went rigged and for the first time since meeting her she'd gone tense at my own actions.



The gray specs in her eyes darted around clearly trying to avoid me as my own eyes pierced into her, "Well there was this one guy and he-"



"So then you understand why I wish that that asshole of a boy bander would learn to not mess shit up, right?" I began to ramble off.



Hanna's brows were scrunched together and her fingers were fidgeting at her sides, "I don't really understand what you're-"



"Get out," I spat and flung my finger towards the door when she didn't move, "Get the fuck out, right now."



Seconds later and the dressing room door was slamming shut with a muffled sob echoing back into the room. My fingers were clasped at my head as I tugged at my roots to relieve some of the stress that had bottled up. First dealing with Liam's life statement and now being told that we were caught was too much to handle. I could only imagine how much shit the paps are going to pull up from this, headlines blazing with that God damn "ship" name fans created. And I still don't even understand what the fuck shipping actually is!



I hadn't even realized that I was crying until the salty taste slid onto my lips as I paced the room. Of all the stories that had ever accumulated about me I'd never once had a break down. The fact I was having one now was freaking me out even more and for the first time in a while I felt scared. This was his fault, all of it. I hated this feeling of being lost and confused, not knowing what to expect since I always knew in the first place.



"Tessa, you're on in twenty," A voice called through the wooden door. I didn't bother with responding but instead wiped at my tears with the back of my hand.



"I will not let this get to me," I whispered to myself. Each of my movements became rushed as I sat myself down in front of the provided mirror and plucked at the make-up lying on the table.



"It's just a story," I reminded myself, applying a light mask of foundation before patting my eyelids with shadow, "Nothing that will last."



As the black liquid eyeliner made a smooth edge on my upper eye lid I let a small smile peak on my lips, "I can handle it."



With each of my own words providing a more relaxing aura over the room I successfully finished applying my make-up. My eyes danced around the room, landing on the clothes rack where my provided outfit was set up. I slid into it with ease, not bothering to make faces at the bright pink scarf but instead simply tossing it to the side.



"I can do this," I spoke again, running my fingers through my hair.



There was more knocking on the door as I began to pace again. My name was being repeated over and over again yet I heard nothing. The truth was that I couldn't do this. All my thoughts were running wild and I was psyching myself out the more that I thought of the tabloids. It's so dumb too because it's all worthless garbage but people actually believed the shit.



"Tessa please! You've got five minutes until you're on," The voice plead with me.



I cringed at the desperation in their voice, recognizing how many times people had said the same thing. Funny how a single word can make you realize how much someone cares. That please made me stand up straight, shake off my stress and stalk towards the door. I have thirty thousand people waiting for me and I damn well won't lose my mind right before it.



As soon as I swung the door open I was faced with a team of stage crew. One was standing off to the side, nearly screaming into his mic. A grin spread over my face as I began to stroll past them and towards the backstage doors.



"Nice of you to show up," Adam appeared at my side. His large arm span directed people out of the way as I walked.



"Figured I mine as well grace the crowds presence since they did pay to see me," I grinned cockily. He tossed me a smirk over his shoulder before tugging a door open.