Violet's POV
"Hey slut." I know that voice. How you can hear the snark in their voice. I slowly turn around, gripping the neck of my guitar. My mouth forms a tight line, my knuckles turn white. The sun beats down on me, my own personal spotlight. Gina stares back, a smirk plastered on her face. She's basically made of plastic, her father is a plastic surgeon. I find it ironic how she calls me a slut when she's had more boyfriends to count.
"What do you want?" my voice is strong, forceful. I glare at the life-sized Barbie and I can see in her eyes that she's intimated.
"I just came over to say hi. No need to get hostile. Anyways, I heard you have a new boyfriend? What is this, the fourteenth?" Gina says, feigning innocence. She acts so perfect, like she could do no wrong. I wish I could walk over and slap the smirk right off her face.
"It takes a slut to know a slut, Gina. Remember that." With that said, I walk away, a weight being slightly lifted off my chest. I loosen my grip on the guitar neck and walk to another street corner. When I find one that's busy enough, I drop my hat to my feet and sling the guitar strap over my head. I play a few practice chords before really getting into the song.
I fell in love next to you
Burning fires in this room
It just fits
Light and smooth
Like my feet in my shoes
Little one, lie with me
Sew you heart to my sleeve
We'll stay quiet
Underneath shooting stars
If it helps you sleep
And hold me tight
Don't let me breathe
Feeling like
You won't believe
There's a firefly
Loose tonight
Better catch it
Before it burns this place down
And I lie
If I don't feel so right
But the world looks better
Through your eyes
People gather, dropping a dollar or two in my hat. I lose myself in the music, focusing on getting the melody right. My eyes are glued to the strings, coming unstuck every once in a while to see the crowd. By the end, people clap but fade away as quickly as they came. I reach down to my hat when a dollar is thrown. A single pair of pink stilettos are inches away from my hand. Gina.
I should've known she'd follow me. "Well lookie here! A little begger girl scrounging on the streets." Her voice is dripping in sweetness.
"Scrounging is a big word, are you sure it's in your vocabulary?" I ask, using as much sass as I can muster. As you can see, is not much.
Gina gives me a death stare, then plasters a smile on her fake face. The sun glints off of her plastic nose and cheekbones. "You listen here, whore. No matter how much money you make, or how many boyfriends you have, you will never be better than me. Got it?" I stare at Her Royal Fakeness and resist the urge to slap her.
I take a step forward, straightening my back so that I have a good three inches on her, even when she's in heels."You listen here, bitch. I'm not taking your shit anymore. You may have thought it was funny in grade school, but it never was. You're just as fake as the rest of them. I will be better than you, you know why? 'Cause I don't have to pick on people who have a 'lower status level' to feel powerfull. That's your shit. And trust me, I don't plan on seeing you again." I take the money from my hat and walk off, feeling her laser stare burn holes in my back.
