Red Lips & White Lies

|1| Where It All Begins

Listen to 'Where It All Begins' by Hunter Hayes ft. Lady Antebellum in the sidebar. It's a perfect song for the first chapter!

Dedicated to Cherry_Cola_x for helping me out and making this into a chapter! Thank you so much!

I hope y'all like this chapter!

'Juliette, are you ready?'

My mom's voice echoed through the hallway, all the way up to my room. I was standing in front of the mirror and I couldn't resist the urge to roll my eyes at myself. I knew she was going to be stressed today. Hell, I even knew she was going to ask me that question at this exact moment. She always does that when we have to be somewhere on time.

'Yeah, I just need to put on some lipstick,' I yelled back at my mom. Quickly I picked my favorite red lipstick - which was now the only lipstick standing in the bathroom because the rest of my collection was waiting for me in my suitcase - and started to apply the red color on my lips. Downstairs I could hear my mom sighing and I just knew that she was shaking her head in disapproval, even if I couldn't see it.

'I should have sent you to rehab, instead of letting you go to California. You have a serious lipstick addition, Jules. How many times do I have to tell you that you look just fine without it?'

I smacked my lips once more and turned around. Before I walked back to my room, I bended over the balustrade and gave my mom the most endearing smile I had.

'Only a thousand times more,' I said in a sweet voice.

My mom just didn't understand why I always had to wear lipstick. Everybody has a thing that makes them feel comfortable and a little bit more confidant. For some people that thing was sleeping with a night light on and for other people it was wearing their favorite underwear. For me that special thing was lipstick. My mom should be lucky that I am not addicted to alcohol or drugs.

Before my mom could say anything, I walked to my room for the last time and gave myself one good look in the mirror in my now empty closed. My black trashed high waist jeans made my legs look taller than they already were and my white laced top made my petite figure look good enough. My blonde hair fell in big curls over my shoulders and for once it didn't look like something exploded on my head. Thank you, God, for this miracle.

All together I looked like myself and that was a good thing. That meant I didn't have to worry about being over dressed or being under dressed. And less worries meant that I was more confident, which was something I lacked of on those kind of days. Today I was flying from Texas to California and I could use every bit of confidence I could get.

I had graduated from high school before summer break and I had applied to the Academy for Young Musicians in California, better known as AYMC. Music has always been a part of my life. I learned to play the guitar when I was four and ever since then I expanded my music boundaries. At the age of ten I could play the guitar - acoustic, electric and bass - the piano, drums, banjo and flute. Right now I can play sixteen different instruments and I sing. Most people I met were a bit intimidated by my music skills and I couldn't blame them. I have never been someone who brags about their skills, but at this point I can't deny that I am good at making music. So whenever someone gave me a compliment about my music, I just accepted it with a smile.

Another reason why I chose this academy was because my father owned. that school. That's right. My father was Waylon Kingston, the former rock star. There only was one problem. He didn't know I was his daughter. You see, he and my mother were madly in love. They were like one of those clingy couples you see sucking each other's face off in the hallways. Inseparable. Well, they were until Waylon got successful. After that, fame took control and Waylon left my mom, both not knowing that she was pregnant. My mom was heartbroken, but when she finally found out she was pregnant, she decided to keep me. Since then she's raised me all by herself.