Mr. Superstar and Lonely Girl (rewriting soon!)

//1//

I wake up to the sound of my ringtone. The bright summer-sunlight cuts the room in half, and I see dust-motes dancing in the wall of light. My mind is fuzzy; the last remnants of a dream is chased away by the realisation that I am awake. It was a nice dream—something about standing in a crowd, music playing in the background. On the stage stood a blurry figure. I try to recall whom, but I give up. I groan and quickly grab my phone, swiping the screen, proceeding to put the phone next to my ear.

"Crystal? Are you awake?" The voice sniffles and slightly coughs. I soon realize it is my friend, Rosie.

"I am now." I groan. "What's up?" I ask, rubbing my eye with my other hand.

"I have an itsy bitsy favour to ask," She says, faintly coughing.

"Are you sick or something?" I ask, slowly getting up from my bed.

"Yeah . . . and because of this cold, I can't go to uhh . . . Jared Leto's barbecue for my article . . ." She says, nervously. I groan.

I hate Jared Leto. His attitude just bothers me. I don't know how to explain it. The whole "nice guy" act is not fooling me. The articles I've read may be fake, but still, the things he does and says behind the scenes are stupid. Like sleeping with girls that are thirteen to seventeen? But I guess what rockstar hasn't? He's a pedophile who doesn't have self control. I have never really liked him, but his music is decent, I guess.

"Please, please, please, Crystal! I know you hate him . . . like really, really hate him, but I need this or else I'll lose my job! I finally got a job at Seventeen! I can't afford to lose this," She begs, sniffling even more.

"But, Rosie..." I whine. I can sense her sadness through the phone, and when Rosie becomes sad, it's a snot-ball fest. "Ugh! Okay . . . okay, fine. When is this stupid barbecue?" I ask, while heading towards my bathroom.

"Today at four! I'll text you the address and the invitation card. Thank you so much! All you have to do is tell me everything that happened. Pictures would be nice," She happily says, although still coughing.

"Yeah, yeah, so take pictures and write what happened," I state, grabbing my tooth brush.

"Thank you, Crystal! I owe you big time!"

"Mhm, you do," I say, before hanging up and getting ready.

///

After doing all my errands and dropping them off at my house, I get on my motorcycle and drive all the way to Hollywood Hills. As soon as I arrive at the gate area, I show my invitation. The gates open, letting me in. I get to the party pad, and all I hear are squealing girls and blasting music.

I hop off my bike, placing my helmet on top of it. I continue making my way into the party. It is populated with nothing but teenage girls and rather strangely, teenage boys. A couple twenty-something-year-olds are sprinkled in the party, but other than that, it just as easily could be a McKinley high school kegger. The fact that a forty-something-year-old man is hanging around a bunch of teenagers is unsettling, but it is 2015. I take a couple pictures of the place from the outside before progressing inside.

The place is huge. It has multiple bedrooms, bathrooms, and kitchens. I walk around and find the patio area. I take pictures, causing people to look at me. Yeah, yeah, look all you want.

Girls in bikinis fondle themselves to Jared as he cooks vegan hot dogs. The pool is crowded with teens who are laughing and splashing each other. Jared begins to do impressions of famous stars in front of the girls.

"Oh! Jared," the orgasmic—high pitched—shrieks pour forth. "You're so amazing!"

Next, he moves on to his impression of a horny redneck, picking one of the sixteen or seventeen-year-olds from the crowd, tossing her over his knee and grabbing handfuls of her boobs and butt while she squeals and giggles.

"Girly, you best milk them cows if you want supper," He says, pretending to chew on tobacco.

Then a strange trance falls over his disciples, and they crumple to their knees in rapid succession and bow toward their messiah.

Okay, that last bit doesn't really happen, but they do basically orgasm.

///

After writing things down and taking more pictures, I become hungry, so I approach Jared, simply asking for a hot dog.

Jared held out the hot dog to me then says, "How'd 'ya like to screaming eagle my friend and me? He's seventeen. You see him? He's in the pool." He points at a teenage boy in the pool playing around with some teenage girls.

"Screaming eagle?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Yeah. We stand on either side of you while you blow us both. Like this." He acts it out—holding his fists at both sides of his face and rotating his head, mouth agape, and makes a screaming sound. Okay then...

"Um, no thanks. I'm not really up for giving out blowjobs today," I say sarcastically, grabbing the hot dog and walking away. Jared yells out for someone to watch the hot dogs and runs after me.

"No blowjobs? Bummer. C'mon, I was only joking." Jared says, laughing. Jared's dark ombré hair is tied up with a hair tie, his smile the cringiest thing I have ever seen. Multiple girls, blondes and brunettes, in the pool call him over in a seductive tone.

"Looks like you have your hands tied," I say, taking a bite of the hot dog and walking away. Despite Jared's  bad attitude, he does make a good hot dog. God, I cannot wait for this to be over. I start lurking around the house. A room suddenly catches my eye. A music room. Most likely where Jared write this music. Guitars, pianos, and a sound booth litter the room. I look around me in the hall to see if anybody can see me. With nobody in sight, I quietly walk in, closing the door behind me.

I quickly walk towards the beautiful acoustic guitar and sit down with it. I strum some chords as I quietly sing the lyrics of a song I wrote. "Bright lights . . . big city . . . she dreams . . . of love . . ." Suddenly, someone walks in, making me stop my singing.

Jared. Dammit. Jared smiles, but it quickly turns into a smirk.

"What do we have here?" Jared asks, closing the door behind him. "Beautiful voice you have there," He says, walking towards me.

"Sorry. I got intrigued . . ." I quickly stand up and hang the guitar back on the wall. I walk past Jared. Suddenly, Jared grabs my wrist and pins me up against the wall. Jared grabs my other wrist and is now holding both of my arms above my head.

Jared smirks as he slowly leans in. I shiver. Jared's alluring lips are inches away from mine. Jared's icy blue eyes are piercing into my brown eyes. My heart is beating quickly. I try to escape his grip, but he's too strong for me.

"You're going to fall for me, kid." Somehow, he smirks even more.

"Wait—what?" I say, confused.

Without warning,

he kisses me.