*THIS BOOK IS DRAMATIZED AND EXAGGERATED TO MAKE IT A MORE INTERESTING READ*
Follow the story of a Betty spaghetti doll that experiences overnight fame and the challenges of being a pop icon. His life changes dramatically; how will he cope with his...
Kid Ritz merges onto the highway, speeding after Fred in between cars. As we go upside down, I throw my hands in the air, cheering excitedly. We go in a loop, eventually going upright.
The blood that rushed to my head makes me dizzy, but in a good way. I watch as Fred takes a detour, driving off the road and into the lane further down in the clouds.
Kid Ritz looks at me, grabbing my hand before driving us off the side of the road after Fred. Butterflies fly in my stomach as we fall and soar through the clouds before Kid Ritz lands us gracefully.
He speeds up, catching up to Fred's truck. Orchid waves out the window, pointing to the right of us. Upcoming is a neon guitar-shaped building, the "Rocking Rager."
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We take a winding road down to the venue, the drive so steep I have to hold myself upright. The road levels brings us a few mere meters from the venue.
The bright neon lighting lights my face, hyping me more than I already am. We follow Fred to the parking lot, Kid Ritz managing to find a spot among the tens of cars. We get out and stare up at the massive guitar shining down on us.
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Kid Ritz: "Wow... that's incredible!"
Ven: "Tell me about it!"
Fred and Orchid pull up to the spot next to us, climbing out of his truck excitedly.
Orchid: "Can you believe it?! This place is incredible, and we haven't even gone inside!"
Fred: "I've never been to the lower level of town before; Who knew this is what I was missing!"
We nod in agreement, walking together to the entrance. Hundreds of fans wait out front, talking amongst each other excitedly.
I scan the lines before I eye the VIP line and lead us over. We get in the shortest line, which, luckily, is moving quickly. I look around nervously, a bit worried I'll get recognized. Luckily, no one pays me any extra attention, allowing me to relax a little.
Back at MRS., I managed to sneak my ring pop into one of the pockets on my new baggy jeans, its small shape hidden perfectly among the deep pockets. Looking around, I see tons of other Rageons with their own ring pops. As I look at one particular couple in the line next to us sharing a ring pop, I meet Fred's gaze.
