Little Miss Socialite *Hot Screamer Reworked*

Song 1

Growing up, Eliza knew one thing: that she was different. No she wasn't a closeted witch or a vampire. None of that whimsical teen fantasy bullshit. No, she had a learning disability that her parents didn't understand. It kind of got in the way of the pristine family image. No matter how hard she tried, she always fell sec- wait, she had three siblings so she technically fell fourth, dead last. Eliza was a blazing shit-show compared to her older sister, Becca. Becca was always so put together growing up, and based on how well Becca was doing at Yale, Eliza assumed she was even more put together now.

It was always rough growing up feeling inadequate in a home with parents who went to Ivy's and wanted the same from their kids. Although her older brother, Jordan, the insanely smart computer engineer wannabe, seemed to struggle a bit during primary school, he was on his way to Pepperdine next year. Their eldest brother, Matthew, was a Harvard graduate and was taking a gap-year to work at their dad's law firm before going to law school at you guessed it, Harvard Law. Well, he still has to apply but she knew he'd get in. If her dad's legacy endorsement didn't work, she was sure a generous donation would get him admitted.

This dynamic leaves poor Eliza at the bottom of the totem pole, where she has been since her parents figured out she had a problem with reading. Though they paid for the best tutors and sent her to boarding school for a few years, she was still trying to figure things out. Unfortunately, her parents thought that she was just lazy and frankly, a waste of money. Eventually, she stopped giving a fuck about their opinions. And that brings us to one fateful night during her senior year of high school.

"So do you think we should still go?" I asked Courtney. My best friend was looking back at me with her rose colored hair in space buns and a glare on her face. Hell, I guess that's my answer. The tickets did costs an arm and a leg, not that that mattered anyway.

"Yeah, Court, you're right," I did a once over one last time before I stepped away from my full length mirror. My dark curly hair was in a ponytail with my unruly bangs swooping haphazardly to the side of my face. I had on light eyeliner, just enough to make my brown eyes pop a little. And so if my mother saw a picture of me, she wouldn't categorize my appearance as a night moves dancer.

After a chaotic half hour of trying to figure out what to wear, I went with a leather skirt with silver details on the side, and a red ruched crop top. If I was going to go to my first rock concert, I had to look the part.

"Alright," I turned back around to look at Courtney. "How do I look?"

Compared to my insanely pretty friend, I wasn't sure I'd be able to pull off the whole rocker-chic look. Especially because my black ass never fell into that crowd in the first place.

"Um, I think you look pretty good," she shrugged and smirked. "I mean, if you looked like shit I would have said something fifteen minutes ago." She popped her gum and bent down to lace up her gold combat boots. I kicked her boot and looked around for my jacket.

"Mmkay, I didn't ask for an attitude little girl." She flipped me off and I could definitely see how she got labeled as "the feisty Filipina" at school. Obviously no one has cared to say that shit to her face because everyone and the Lord knows that she would burn the place down.

"Okay okay, Eliza let's go, I don't want to be late." Courtney yanked on my arm and pulled my stumbling ass out of my room and towards the front door of my family's brownstone.

The ride over was considerably comfortable given we took Courtney's family town car, but the comfort didn't ease the butterflies in my stomach. I've been listening to this band since my sophomore year of school. I was scrolling deep through Tumblr and landed on some creepy blog. The playlist for the site started and I ended up staying on the creepy methamphetamine-user-hot air balloon-drawer's site. The mix of drug paraphernalia, nudes, and hot air balloons wasn't the move. I knew that if one artist could keep me on a psycho's blog page, it was good music. I've been listening to them ever since, and I'm finally seeing them in person.