Back to Your Roots

Chapter One (Part Three)

        The mystery sender closed the letter asking if I had planned on coming home to make an appearance and, if so, was wondering if we could meet in person. She also left a post-script vaguely stating that she knew someone who missed me dearly and was looking forward to seeing me again. I set the letter down and held my head in between a thumb and two fingers, the cold steel of my double jointed ring creating a cool oasis on the desert that was now my throbbing forehead.

        Most people would be completely and utterly horrified by something like this, and I was at first, but there was something that felt kind of comforting about this. I mean, for the past three years, I've done nothing but sell myself. To record companies, to interviewers, to directors, you name it. It's all felt fake. Through all the smiles and handshakes, it's hard to find someone who genuinely wants to know who you are in that business and not just what you can do for them. I'm just saying it was a little refreshing knowing that there was someone who still wanted to know me for me and not for 'Osiria Blake.'

        It's not like this person seemed dangerous, but after talking it through with Martin, arguing about it with Clark, and taking intense kick boxing lessons and getting shocked with a taser, I decided to take a leap of faith, taking the request from the letter and doing one better by re-enrolling in high school and getting my diploma. If this chick knew what I planned on doing she would probably shit bricks, based on what I could gather from the letter. It sounded like a neat idea to me, I mean, a semi-famous pop star going back to public high school. I thought it would make a good story. I know it sounds cliche, but I realized that though the rock star life is fun and adventurous, it couldn't hurt to slow down a bit and just be a kid one last time.

        Reading that letter reminded me that I needed to update my vlog channel and social media accounts. With the annulment of the contract, I no longer needed a publicist to keep my fans updated. For once, I actually felt responsible for my fame and I had to say, it felt pretty good. I pulled out one of my many cell phones, an early release version of the upcoming Galaxy Note model, and started recording.

        "What's up, my little Home-wreckers! This is the voluptuous Osiria Blake sending a transmission from the mother ship of the damned!" I laughed a hearty, evil laugh and went back to being cocky. "Anyway, sorry, not sorry for the poor video quality. I'm filming this vlog with my sick ass new phone." I shook the camera around and stuck my tongue out. I leaned back and rested one of my arms behind my head, the other one outstretched holding my phone. "So, how've you little shits been? It's been a while hasn't it? Well, guess what!" Getting a little aggressive, I leaned forward, "After this video, you're gonna have to wait EVEN LONGER! That's right, your Queen Bitch is going on hiatus for a bit, so suck it up!"

        I laughed maliciously then pouted my lips in mock sympathy, "Aww, now don't be sad, babies. I'll still keep you posted with all the dirty, juicy secrets you all crave. And I bet you're gonna wanna know all you can now since all that shit with Camden went down, right? I bet you do, you nosy bastards!" I rubbed my nose at the camera a little and laughed again. Back to arrogance. "Anyway, I gotta jet, kiddies. Don't want the teacher to take my phone away from me now, do I?" I pressed a finger to my lips. "What would he say about all the naughty messages you little perverts keep sending me?" I winked and licked my lips. "So, until next time, be patient and don't piss me off. 'Cuz, who knows? If you're good little slaves, I just might give you a taste of my upcoming single." I shrugged and pursed my lips, inviting the comments that would later plague my homepage. "Title's still in the works, so no leaks yet, ya booze hounds!"

        I laughed one more time and made myself appear a bit more relaxed. "So I'll catch you all later, home slices. Remember: love, life, and sacrifice. Byeeeeee!" I ended the video the way I did all my others, with my tongue out and my hands making my signature finger heart with devil horns. I stopped recording and started tweaking the video with the editing features on the phone. After listening to it one more time, I was about to upload it to my channel when a small voice in my head said, Edit and post it later. I saved my progress and sent to my email. I'd take care of it when I got home. I turned off my phone. The vultures can wait.

        Shoving my phone in my bag, I took out the other one that I used for games and started a new round of Trivia Crack with Yancha. I already had four characters and we were only on round three. I was always good with pointless trivia. Hell, I was even labeled a 'walking, talking encyclopedia' all throughout middle school. It may have been useless brain spackle, but it was definitely proving useful now. The spinner in the game landed on science. My favorite subject. This was gonna be easy.

        After answering the question correctly, I was taken back to the main challenge screen. In the top corner I could see my opponent's profile picture. Yancha's happy face stared back at me. Her small brown eyes were covered in a thick black liner, making them appear a lot smaller than they really were. Her long dark hair was teased and pulled into two high pigtails, neon pink and blue streaks snaking through the sea of black. Her multiple facial piercings glinted in the flash of the camera along with her perfectly white teeth, standing out against the black sheen of her lipstick. She looked a lot like like that one chick from Babymetal, only with a few additives.

        At this point, I hadn't seen my keyboardist for about three months. I'd spent most of that time packing and moving a lot of my stuff over to my new place back home. I had asked her to take care of my apartment in L.A. while I was gone and, to my happiness, she said yes before I could even finish the question. She was the only person who took my side during the Camden thing and I thank God every day that I have someone like her to count on. For somebody whose full stage name literally means "Naughty Whore", she was actually a very loyal person and band mate, and probably my only real friend in Hollywood. God, I miss that little slut... I jeered as I answered another question right. She didn't stand a chance this time.

        "We'll be arriving at the school shortly, Miss Cameron." Martin's usual professional persona had returned. His gentle, yet firm voice screeched back at me through the driver's radio. "I suggest you gather your things together soon."

        I looked up at the privacy screen and picked up the radio on my side. I could faintly make out Martin's shadow, his head in profile as though turning to look at me. I smirked and pressed the button to lower the privacy screen. I spoke wryly into the radio, "It's Desta, Martin," I smiled at him. He smiled back. "Just Desta."

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To Be Updated