𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 , 𝟖𝟎𝐬

6 = an absolute mess

"no, jason i don't sing! what're you crazy!" i yelled to him, but quietly, trying not to let people hear.

"brandy, i just heard you sing today! we need someone, come on! this could help you get more roles in movies if you have another talent besides acting!"

"looks like our new favorite girl, brandy alexander has a secret voice? get on up here!" the geeky guy yelled into the mic.

"i don't know what to sing!"

"sing one of the songs you've written! something sexy, something that'll get the people in a good mood!" jason told me.

my brain raced through all the songs i knew to find something of those sorts and something with an 80s vibe to fit in. i just didn't know which artist to throw under the bus as i horribly covered one of their songs.

"jason, i'll kill you!" i said as he walked me to the stage.

"i knew you were kinky, but killing me isn't that hot." he whispered into my ear, causing me to gasp.

my distraction of resisting the stage in that moment allowed him to push me up the steps. the microphone was handed to me and everyone silenced once i stood up there.

"u-uh, hi." i said into the mic, my voice echoing throughout the entire party.

"woo!" jason cheered off to the side, holding our drinks, as i managed to get one word out.

i shot him a death glare.

"i'm brandy alexander for those of you who don't know. a-and i guess i'm singing?" my voice was shaking out of nerves as cameras started flashing all around me, "right, okay. um." i turned to the band behind me with their instruments.

i cringed knowing the first song that came to mind, cherry by lana del rey, would cause issues once the year 2017 came around. i could see it now, lana co-writing the song and then someone telling her this song was originally sang by a girl in 1987 and they would be so confused because they had just written the song from scratch. there will probably be videos of me performing it and they will look it up and see i hit all the notes exactly the same.

i really didn't want a lawsuit in the future for music plagiarism, so i quickly decided against that and asked the band if they knew "you don't own me" by lesley gore.

they all nodded and began playing the song for me to sing.

=

as soon as i hit the last note of the song, i placed the microphone back on it's stand, "thank you.", my eyes met jason's in the crowd, "actually, you're welcome." i then quickly walked off stage.

as i ran up the stairs i previously came down, my throbbing head and pounding heart was drowning out the cheers and the geeky looking guy's voice back on the mic.

the nerves got to me and i was running to find the bathroom so i could projectile vomit in peace.

i ran into the stall, slammed the door and got down on my knees in front of the toilet.

in the midst of the vile noises coming from my body, i heard loud knocking on the bathroom door.

"brandy?" jason yelled, "are you okay?"

i coughed, "does it sound like i'm okay?"

there was a moment of silence between jason not answering and me no longer throwing up.

"i'm coming in." he yelled through the door.

"this is the girls bathroom!"

i heard the door swing open, "i don't care."

i was sitting on the dirty bathroom floor with my back against the cold stall wall.

jason stopped and looked down at me, still holding our alcoholic drinks in his hands, "so courteous of you to close the door."

i rolled my eyes and flushed the toilet, "no one was in here and i was a little too focused on the vomit coming up my throat to lock the door. my apologies."

jason chuckled a bit and then joined me on the floor.

"ew, don't sit with me! it probably reeks in here now." i scooted further away from him.

"brandy, i don't care." he handed me back my drink, "what happened, why'd you get sick?"

i looked down at the orange drink in my hand, "nervous i guess. and all thanks to you! i don't sing in front of people but i was just forced to."

"i'm sorry, but you were amazing."

"don't gas me."

"hm?" he scrunched his eyebrows.

"nothing, i have to stop using slang you don't know." i sighed.

"where does this slang come from?" he smiled.
i looked him in the eyes and then took the biggest gulp i could of my drink, downing it all in one shot.

i thought about telling him right then and there. that i'm "from the future" and i think the real reason why i got sick is that my mind can not handle the amount of confusion i've been in and i'm having an ongoing mental breakdown every second that goes by.

but all that slurred out of my mouth was, "i'm the future."

and then, as if on queue, my body rejected the alcohol and i threw it all up again. all over the side of the toilet.

"okay. that's enough of that." jason took the glass from my hands and pulled me up onto my feet, "shouldn't have given you that."

i moaned as my stomach was in pain as he helped me walk out of the bathroom.

"what happened to her?" i heard my manager, michael, ask as jason and i walked past him.

"she's sick so i'm taking her home!"

my last memory before closing my eyes while clinging onto jason's arm for dear life was a high corey haim waving goodbye to us with the goofiest grin on his face and paparazzi shouting questions at us.