She's Just That Kind of Girl

One | Violet

"That sounded great Selena! Now, let's do it again from the top," our music producer said. He messed with his equipment, adjusting the headphones and sound for Selena in the recording booth.

Selena Adair, my younger sister, shot a thumbs up and a smile through the glass of the isolation chamber, as I liked to call it, from a recording studio in Malibu, California. It was a closed-off, sound proof room to record our singing. Honestly it looked like an isolation room from horror movies, where they lock-up insane people.

Dallas Adair, my older sister, stood behind our producer and beside our manager, Jack. Both of them watched Selena and listened to her vocals come through. She had a great low-toned voice, perfect for low-note melodies. Which worked perfectly for our band's overall sound on this new album, which was mostly acoustic with some beats thrown in there, backing vocals, and the occasional electric guitar. Categorized in the Alternative genre allowed our creativity to be limitless. But choreography was Selena's skill though. Arguably one of the best dancers in the industry and created every single move we made in all our performances and music videos. She won countless competitions growing up for that passion, one she got from our mom.

Ten months before this moment, we had planned and mapped out this entire fourth tour for our album Viciously Precious that drops in a month. Six months before now, we had finished recording the entire album and then incidents followed. Now, we're recording new music somewhere in the mixes of week two of month two in music rehearsals. Well, my sisters were rather.

I, on the other hand, popped in my wireless earbuds and watched football from my iPhone on the couch behind the producer. The Dolphins were leading the Patriots surprisingly. After recruiting the star quarterback from the Alabama Crimson Tide a few years back, the Dolphins were actually doing pretty good this year. Though I didn't have a NFL team, the Crimson Tide was my college team. Well, the family's team anyway. Our parents met and graduated from there. Our father—Papi I call him—even played Defensive End for them. He became a highschool football coach and loved the game more than life itself. He taught me everything he knew about the sport and it became our thing we did together. Dios, I miss him.

Dallas snatched an earbud from my ear. "Hey. Are you planning on singing today? Or anything for that matter."

I glared at her. "No. But thank you for your daily inquiry. Please try back again never."

She rolled her hazelnut eyes, flicked a piece of her caramel hair behind her shoulder, looked at Jack, and raised a hand. As if to ask, what else am I to do with her?

Jack came around the coffee table I had my feet resting on and sat on it next to me so he could face me directly. "Violet, talk to me. What is it that I can do to help? Do you want me to kick The Buzz off the tour? Would that help?"

Ugh. The Buzz. The Buzz consisted of three brothers. Their real names being Keaton, Shane, and Nate Trevyn. I had dated the middle brother, Shane. I am also the middle sibling of our band The Scarlett Violets. What went down with that pathetic scenario was the same as every other relationship I had ever been in. I caught him cheating. For him it was with his ex, a famous, solo singer. That's a different sting than with a new girl in the picture. We were all on a short tour together to promote the movie we had all starred in called Music Academy, where I actually first met the brothers. Right in his hotel room is how I caught them. A real lowkey job if you ask me, especially since I stayed in the room a few doors down.

The Buzz were our opening act for our opening show. That alone boiled my blood to the bone. It was a great idea at the time when the decision was made because we were together, but now it was just resentful. After the whole incident, on top of other issues adding to the bubbling cauldron in my brain, something in me just snapped. A tear between depression and absolute rage. Mostly rage though. I'd rather be absolutely mad than depressed. But depression lingered there regardless, killing my passion for anything and everything I used to love. My mind blocked it all out like none of its connections existed. At this point, all I really wanted was to be left alone.