bad religion // m. gray gubler

so you're a singing squirrel?

*the day that started it all: january 10th, 2006*

"daniel you have got to be kidding me. when i said i wanted to explore the music industry, i meant something like broadway or maybe doing a tour. this is not what i meant."

"i owed the producer a favor. come on ster, please."

"i am a professional dancer. i went to julliard. i have a bachelor's degree in dance. yet here i am, dressed from head to toe in sequins, about to be a backup dancer for a chipmunk. a singing chipmunk!" i whisper yell into the phone as i avoid the stares of the crew walking past me.

"it's chipmunks. plural. and it's not that bad, i promise. plus, you've done worse things."

"oh have i? name one."

"you've dyed your hair purple."

"i was having a mental breakdown, daniel. plus, it was more of a violet black. it looked cool. just be grateful i didn't get bangs. i was close."

"no, asteria. it didn't look cool. you looked like every middle school girl after they dyed their hair with kool-aid."

"okay, now you're just being rude."

"listen, i gotta go. but you make some friends, okay? and be nice."

"no promises." i grumble before hanging up the phone.

i turn around to put my phone back into my bag when my face roughly collides with someones elbow and the sounds of coffee cups spilling enters my ears. the body falls onto of mine and we both hit the ground, a loud groan leaving my lips as my head hit the hard floor. i blink away the fuzziness in my eyes and bring my hand up to my nose which was now streaming blood down my face.

"oh my god, i am so sorry. i was rushing and i totally wasn't watching where i was going."

i look up at the floppy haired brunette that was sprawled out on top of me.

"would you maybe wanna ummm-" i say, gesturing to his body that was still laying on mine.

"oh! yeah. yes. jeez, i'm really sorry." he profusely apologizes as he lifts himself off of me and helps me sit up.

i groan, holding my hand to my head and plugging my nose to keep blood from getting on the costume. i grab onto the chair, standing up of the ground and swaying slightly. the man reaches out, grabbing my arms to help stabilize me.

"woah. are you okay?"

i turn to look at him, my eyebrows raised.

"right. dumb question. umm..here, let me help you." he chuckles, seating me down onto the chair.

"you really don't have t-"

"yes i do." he quickly interrupts, grabbing the tissues from the makeup desk and roll them into small balls before shoving them into my nostrils.