Thank you everyone for reading this far into the story! :) Here's chapter six updated for the third-and-probably-not-final time! Don't forget to comment, vote and follow as that really helps me out and also let's me know that your enjoying my story/chapter/writing. If you have any questions or queries, remember that you can always ask me via message or in the comments section. Also, check out my questions section at the bottom, guys. Thanks again, -Elisha122!
Chapter Six: Lola Haster - The Artist!
The next week was magnificent, unbeatable and just simply and completely indescribable. I couldn't exactly sum it up into words - we were being spontaneous, living in the moment and feeling like a weight was lifted from our shoulders after quite a couple of tracks had been recorded and after progressing so well with the album.
Me and Larry had just finished a lengthy, exhausting and effortful day in the studio and were prowling around the hotel bar, sitting on the most comfortable red leather, velveteen stools. He sipped his orange juice and faced me, "We're really doing well with this album, don't you think?"
I nodded, "Yeah, great. I just wish that I somehow miraculously-" I then used quotation marks "Fitted this celebrity image. All of these stars are so glamorous - I mean look at them all. With glossy dark hair and teeth as pure as snow. They're just so-"
Larry shook his head affirmatively. Almost as if he was certain that I'd made an error of judgement. He wore a deep leather biker jacket with silver-engraved studs and his dark hair somehow seemed lighter under the neon lights flickering against the sunburnt walls.
"You don't need to fit the celebrity image, Lola, the image needs to fit you."
I narrowed my eyebrows and he quickly seemed to sense my confusion. It was almost as if he knew that I'd ask for further explanation. "Look - all I mean is that you shouldn't work so hard - let your hair down and have some fun with everything Lola. Remember, just like the head shots? Have fun with this whole experience. Don't be who your supposed to be - be who you want to be. Be you, Lola."
I smiled shyly. He sipped his drink again and then it hit me. He was perfect. Okay, I've probably mentioned that a zillion times before but active, glistening, sparkling light was literally radiating off of him. He was a saint - the person who had taken me away from the dreary life of being a Diner Girl to being someone worthy enough to stand tall and proud. We held eye contact and he was about to speak when Karl rounded the sloped bar and suddenly appeared next to us.
"Did you get it?" Larry asked, screeching excitedly.
Karl nodded, "Uhm-mhm. You bet I did, it's right here."
I noticed that he clasped a rolled up sheet of paper, like a treasure map or something, only not coffee-stained and tacky. It looked like a proper poster, but I didn't know what it was. After asking him, he smirked and so did Larry when I turned to him.
"Guys, seriously... What are you doing?"
Karl unfolded the poster and held one end as Larry held the other. As I saw what they'd done I gasped unexpectedly and froze. There we were - Larry in his suit acting serious in his Usaain-Bolt pose imitation, Karl with his hands on his cheeks looking as tanned as ever, airbrushed to look like perfection, with zero flaws.
Then there was me - my big rounded bright red lips pouted whilst my guitar sat just in front of me being plucked by no other than myself. I'd never seen myself like this before - my eyes were smoky and my lashes were spidery, my clothing looked spotless and I looked... Happy. I liked that look - that moment meant so much to me and I was relieved that I didn't look like a horrific monster, but I still didn't want the unnecessary attention that I knew these daredevils would draw to me.
I stood in front of the poster, "This is great Karl... but what are you doing, just holding it up randomly in the middle of the bar?"
Karl smiled deviously, "This is the official poster Lo - for the album. My manager thought it would be beneficial to see the producer and co-producer with the artist. You seem before, this was a compilation - an album by many artists. But now it's yours, Lo. They've seen how much you've progressed and how well your doing. So from now on, it's yours. It's going to be amazing - just wait and see Lo!"
I gaped at him with some sort of appreciation and then shrugged respectfully, "I don't know, you guys tell me. I know nothing about this whole music business," I turned to Larry, "Is it great?"
He paused for a moment but then smiled slyly and stood up on one of the red velvet stools, taking a tiny step up to the bar. I watched as he picked up Karl's glass, raised it to the audience and tapped on it with his sharp, pointed, threatening fingernails. He then snatched the poster from Karl and unravelled it for everyone to see.
"What are you doing?" I asked, completely mortified. It must have shown on my face because my mouth was left agape again and my hands were clutching my cheeks in surprise and embarrassment.
He willingly ignored me but wolf whistled, successfully which was a surprise. I'd never seen someone do that before. It was actually possible! Anyway, everyone then faced him, me. "Who wants upcoming chart topper Lola Haster's autograph?"
People then raised their hands, lifting them higher and higher until the sunset beamed through the glass window and made their swarm of hands look like trees, uplifting and beckoning towards the sunset. Some began to charge over and Larry handed me a pen to sign... Whatever they wanted me to sign, I guessed.
"Over to you..." He said smoothly before heaving his coat onto his broad shoulders and strolling out of the doors with unchangeable pride and dignity. That was something I admired about Larry - his constant self-admiration. Not in a cocky way, but in a reassuring, self-hope way. He loved who he was, and I hoped that one day I'd be like that. Be proud of who I was. Lola Haster.
With that, he left and I was isolated from him, almost as a barrier was raised between us and I could do nothing to prevent it curtaining around us. I was in this on my own now, I was slowly beginning to understand that. Somehow, I felt independent - more than I usually did anyway.
How that was possible, I didn't know.
I turned to Karl but as my head whisked around to his direction I noticed that he was gone, too. Wow, this sure was going to be a long night.
I took the pen Larry had kindly given me before his departure and began to sign different peoples autographs. I expected teenage girls, but a wide range of people surrounded me. Muscular men with tattoos, biker boots and Mohicans were one of the subgroups looking for autographs. They mainly wanted me to sign their arms, next to the tattoos. Then there were golfers - around seventy years old perhaps that seemed insistent on me signing their caps. I couldn't keep up with it. It was just beginning to prove to me that you can't pinpoint music. Teenage girls don't always like pop, they love urban, rock, country, classical music too - anything. Not one subgroup can be categorised to love one type of music, things change around. That was the magic of music - the beauty of it all. How people knew me, I don't know. I don't think it was the idea of me that they loved - but the music itself. It just goes to show that the power of music is infinite.
After I'd finished signing a twenty-something males signature, my phone rang almost instantly.
The caller ID read 'Aaron'- it was Aaron, Aaron from back home. The Aaron who was like a brother to me, my childhood companion, my best friend.
I pressed the green icon and shoved the phone to my ear, using my other hand to block out the sounds of cheering fans. Wait - fans?
"Hello? Aaron, is that you?"
"Lola - w-where are you? I need you to go somewhere private Lo - I have something really important to tell you!"
I nodded, "S-sure, is everything OK Aaron?"
He didn't answer, and that's when I clicked onto it. Something was wrong, wrong back at home. It was almost as if I could feel it deep within my bones. No matter how cliche that sounded, something deep inside me was buzzing with uncertainty, alerting me of the danger that lied ahead of me.
And until I found a private spot, this feeling of uncertainty would lurk inside of me forever.
Questions to think about/answer in the comments section:
{if you've gotten celebrity autographs before, which is your favourite one - from which artist/actor etc?}
{what would you do if you were Lola - left to sign the autographs on your own without any help from Larry or Karl? Would you be annoyed or passive?}
{why do you think Aaron phoned? What do you think is wrong?}
VOTE/COMMENT/FOLLOW!