Traffic » Zach Herron

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(GIA'S POV)

"--I want you to share that air with m-- AH!"

A sudden car honk cuts off my encore, along with my poor excuse of what I like to call, dancing.

I hear boys laughing as I press my foot lightly against the gas pedal, only moving a mere foot due to the traffic.

Glancing to my left, I see two guys: one driving and glancing at me, and the one in the passenger seat typing on his phone with a grin splattered on his face.

No complete stranger to the two, I come to realization that it is no other than Zach Herron and Corbyn Besson.

I raise my foot from the gas pedal and stare at them with a smile.

"Didn't know I had an audience." I stated with a small laugh, eyeing the two boys.

"Well, we didn't know there'd be a concert in the middle of traffic." Zach countered with a small smile.

"It's one of those days, but hey, don't leave me a stranger on that video. The user is @GiannaBriell!" I say to them through the open window.

"Don't worry, all credit-"

I didn't hear anymore because the car behind me, once again, honked.

You know, maybe if you enjoyed my performance you wouldn't need to honk, right?

I wave at the boys as they noticed the interruption at the same moment I did.

Although I didn't want to end the "conversation" so suddenly, I stepped on the gas pedal and continued my way through the traffic.

The traffic was clearing up after nearly thirty minutes.

"Wasn't that, Corbyn Bestbuy and Zach Hair-on-fleek?" Ava questioned, clearly struggling with the names.

"I mean, sure." I answer with a smile, realizing that this could be a thing.

What isn't trendy about Corbyn BestBuy?

I look at the rear-view mirror, wondering if I can still catch a glimpse of the boys.

Without luck, I continue the drive with my eyes on the road, making an attempt of not getting in a car crash.

Well, at least to not be the idiot who initiates it.

I can at least die happy knowing that my singing has been heard by famous singers, and even recorded by one, too.

Yeah, I'll be rolling in my grave.

"I have a serious question." I inform Ava.

"And I could have a serious answer." Ava replies.

"Am I really a bad dancer? Or was it the bad singing?" I ask, with complete curiosity of what my closest friend has in store for an answer.

She scoffs, "I think it's jealousy."

"Jealousy of the fact that I'm making embarrassing history?
Sounds right." I agree with a hint of sarcasm.