chapter 1

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     Hey, my name is Arabella and I have a bad obsession with rock music. Rock speaks to me and it sounds so cool. I love to jam out all the time. Luckily I live in Las Vegas so there is always a party going on. My father owns a auditorium in England and Las Vegas, so I go to a lot of concerts. I grew up in Sheffield, England. I quite old but modern place.

   I moved to Nevada when I was 11 years old and I am now 26 years old. I know, I know seems weird that i'm older and listen to rock music. But that genre of music is everything to me. It speaks to me and I love it.

  Today I will be attending the Arctic Monkeys performance. And its funny because they are from where I grew up. It will be interesting to hear them because I have never heard their music before but supposedly they are very popular. Also I have backstage access so I think that I might try and meet them.

When I got to the concert I noticed the lead singer immediately. He is quite attractive not going to lie. During the concert me and the lead singer kept making eye contact. He sang some songs from his newest album that is still in the making. When he singing this song called "I Wanna Be Yours", I kinda felt a connection when we made eye contact. It made me feel butterflies in my stomach.

      After the concert I made my way backstage to meet the band. I was there with my father and we introduced each-other. When I saw him my heart was fluttering because how attractive he was. I never felt that way about anyone. At that moment I knew I would fall madly in love with him.

  We kept catching each other's eye and trying to look away. He finally introduced himself while shaking his hands I could feels his veins pulsating. I was very intrigued and wanted them around my neck. Or I did last time I checked.

   My father asked if they wanted to go out for dinner. They all replied with a yes except for Alex. I could tell he saw my face grow long and sad because he quickly left. He definitely felt a connection as well and I had to find him again.

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