New Beginnings // A.I (5SOS)

Chapter 1

A\N: Jamie's character is completely fictional and isn't based on any artist. Any remarks made about anyone in the course of this story are purely for this story and doesn't reflect my thoughts against anyone.

Jamie's P.O.V

Ugh, why did God invent alcohol? Why did Jesus turn water to rum? Or was it wine? I hope it was red wine, though. My head is going to explode...5,4,3,2,1 Boom. Ha! I leaned on the counter for  balance and look at the food on the floor. I've always known I'm a drunk eater but I never thought I was that extreme. I even ate a pint of ice cream; nothing's wrong with spicing up my life with Ben and Jerry. The resounding sound of my doorbell interrupted my peaceful thoughts. My door bell sounded like a dying cow. Metaphorically speaking of course. I should replace it with singing angels making this the house of god. I chuckled at my thought a little bit then opened the door to reveal and emotionally restrained, sexually frustrated Robert. Is he sexually frustrated?
"You're all over the fucking news!"
"Were you living under a rock for the past 13 years? I'm always on the fucking news."
"Listen to this: Uh oh, Jamie! What have you done?" He read from his phone as I closed the door behind him. Here's the deal, Robert is closer to me than my own family. I'm guessing I would call him my father figure, but that sounds weird on many levels. I threw myself at my very beautiful, highly uncomfortable yet very expensive couch; I can't believe I payed for this shit. I felt so tired maybe if I closed my eyes for a bit.
"Jamie Morrison, known for her role as Anna Campbell from The Campbell's; most recently known as a multi platinum, award wining singer after quitting acting at the age of 15, was spotted exiting a high profile club with her pals at early hours of the morning. A few days after after her reported DUI arrest, the 20 year old singer was supposedly drinking before allegedly attacking and throwing up on a paparazzo for taking her pictures.
No comments have been made from Morrison's representatives yet. However, Jamie appeared at the Late Night Show with Jonathan last night where she reportedly walked out from the interview after Jonathan asking her about her wild night out."
"They make me sound so exotic." I put my arm on eyes, trying to eliminate the light.
"This is not a joke, Jamie." I imagined Robert with a very disappointed look on his face, hips back, leaning forward with his hand on his hips: 'The stunningly beautiful Robert!'. "Jamie! Are you listening?!" Ugh, maybe if I fake snore he'll believe that I'm sleeping.
"Very mature Jamie! I can't even have a conversation with you." He retorted.
"What do you want me to do?" I replied, darkness still dominating my eyesight.
"I need you to be on your best behavior tomorrow night." I felt his weight next to me. Slowly, the strong smell of his aftershave diffused into my nose, making me sneeze.
"What's tomorrow night?"
"The award show! You're fucking performing, Jamie!"
"I remember, chill the fuck down Roberto." I opened my eyes and I swear for a split second, I became blind. Why is the sun so bright? Maybe because it's the fucking sun! That's why I failed  home school physics.
"Which reminds me, you have a rehearsal today," Robert checked his watch as I try to doze off. "I need you to be on your best behavior; I don't want to see you around any alcohol. And go shower, you smell like tequila and ice cream."
I grunted at him then practically drag myself up stairs to the bathroom. I decided to take a quick cold shower just to sober up minimally, to get through the day. Tomorrow, I'll be performing my worst song ever in front of national...I think international TV. Nothing's frightening about that! #Exclusive, Jamie Morrison still gets nervous before performing! Robert's tiny voice yelled at me to finish up.I quickly wore my AC/DC crop top, revealing my belly button piercing, with some ripped jeans paired, with a plaid shirt on top of AC\DC. One of the worst decision of my life was getting that stupid belly button piercing; I thought it was cool at first, but ever since I wanted to 'undo' it, my stylist practically forced me to keep it! He thinks it adds a 'factor of edginess', whatever the hell that means. Grabbing my phone and headphones, I headed downstairs to a still sexually frustrated Robert.
"Remember Jamie I don..." I don't know why Robert thinks I have some kind of learning disability or slow understatement! I simply shut him out by playing some music and looked out the window, pretending to be a normal person; something I yearn to become.
The next thing I knew was Robert pushing me to wake up, which concluded that we have reached the venue, and that I've slept on the way here. That shower really failed at its job. I can feel beats of music vibrating from the venue as we got closer to it. Robert led me back stage where my dancers are practicing, where areas, the choreographer is practicing her counting skills. I have some choreography that I had to learn for this performance, but honestly, I really hate this whole routine. Robert always found some kind of choreographer who has a 'vision'. Usually, I am entirely uninterested in these visions. About 15 male dancers were popping, moon walking, robot dancing, crotch grabbing with a high pitched uh-apparently it's a thing-, anti gravity leaning, nae nae-ing, whipping, snake hip-ing, break legging...now, I'm just reciting the names of moves that I know of. I lean on some kind of equipment, watching the dancers rehearse. Currently, there's a band on stage, so I had to wait till they are done which got me hoping that they'll be done really fast, because I want to get this shit over with so I could go to my house and watch some Netflix. That sentence just made me mentally breathless! I watched my choreographer, who I still have no idea what her name is, repeat some moves for the dancers whilst shouting numbers. She, then, calls me over to practice. Hesitantly, I stood between the dancers and started dancing. When you're a female artist, choreographers must include the classic, very sexy sit on the invisible chair dance move while being close to a six packed male dancer. This performance is no exception. The rest of my moves are pretty much basic; nothing too complicated for me so that I won't get too excited.

"No! No! No!" The-still unknown- choreographer lashes out at me. I give her my very classic evil eye and as I'm about to put that bitch in her fucking place, Robert interjected, saving her from serious face reforming.
"How about you show her the move again, Elizabeth?" Robert suggested as she nods in approval. Maybe she should call herself Eliza-bitch! That would be much more appropriate, and wouldn't give people the wrong idea about her.
"Step out your right foot, push and shift your hips to the right, bring your foot in then a little jump." She demonstrated, then looks at me expecting some dancing miracle. I was ready to show her some of my own moves but my eyes caught Robert's as they reminded me of our deal. Well, fuck that now. To avoid any trouble, I cleared off towards the side stage with clear signs of dissatisfaction on my face. Performing on stage are four boys, no older than me, who seem very...um enthusiastic. Nevertheless, they do sound good. I try to make out each boy's outer appearance, but the only one who has really caught my eyes is the one with Animal; the frenzied Muppet, as his hair. The other three include: Jared Leto, Eddie Van Halen and Harry Styles on drums.

'We are the kings and the queens of the new broken scene
Yeah, we're alright though' 

They wrap up their song as I realized that I have been tapping my foot with their beats. However, their wrap up means my turn, so Robert comes and stands next to me to remind me to play nice, and not to mess up on purpose. Apparently, I still have my outfit fitting, dress picking then dress fitting, and to make sure all the props are right; I thought I had people for that. The dancers pranced on to the stage before me as Eliza-bitch instructs them again. The band that was performing passed past me, all glowing from their sweat, directly to the food table. Whilst I wait for them to set up the stage for me, I find myself, strangely, keeping an eye on that band. I don't know why I'm stalking them, but something definitely intrigued me. A guy comes and gives me the mic which means it's time for me to get on stage. I take my place between the dancers, and wait for the music to start. The music starts and I find myself dancing the choreography, keeping count on my steps.
'Hey boy what ya waitin' for
come and show me what you got'
Torso to the left, nod in approval, then sway hips sassy-ly; I reminded myself.
'take me, take me to a higher place
I've never felt this much'
Grab the dancer to your left and act in love them then push him back.
'look into me eyes
I don't want no lies
what ya what ya wanna say
tell me boy
I'm yours'
Oh fuck, what do I do now? Um, I'll just do what their doing! Ugh! Omg! Stand in the middle time! REPEAT PRE-CHORUS TWICE JAMIE!
'runnin wild and free
no body's got what we got
Why ya shyin' away
something's holdin' ya back
yeah'
Great! Chorus! Half way through the song! Unfortunately, complicated chorus choreography starting.
'I can give you my wild heart
use it well don't break it apart
Hold my hand
we'll survive tonight
I'll give you my wild heart!'
As the final beat comes in, I raise my mic, Judd Nelson-The Breakfast club style, in victory, signaling the end of the song. I hear a couple of claps from Robert and others but I completely ignored them by turning back to my dancers, giving them a nod of approval. This is also a nod of appreciation for tolerating this horrid performance. Next, I told the mic technician about some problems with the mic and earpiece.
"You know, when you're not all spoiled, you can make things explode!" Robert chirped as he taps me on the back.
"Yeah, whatever." I sighed as I head to the same food table the other band almost engulfed. Not many choices to choose from; donuts, cherry pie and other kinds of cakes. I never had a sweet tooth; I tend to eat something sour in these situations because Sour+Jamie=The only true love I believe in. Here's the thing about true love: it doesn't exist.True love is simply an illusion. Frankly, it might be the worst ideological concept humans ever invented! True love is seduction and lust, also known as the strongest weapon ever used by humans. Hey! Remember when Cleopatra used seduction on Caesar and actually succeeded? Good times. Anyways, the point is: there are no 'happily ever afters', fucking blue- dress making -fairies, and absolutely no true love; all these concepts were created by poetic minds led by Shakespeare. I take the entire pie, grab a spoon and prepare for complete pie domination!
"The pie is really sour," an accent warned.
All I could think of is: WHO DARES TO INTERRUPT MY SWEET DOMINATION! But then I look up to Harry Styles 2.0.



A\N:

Hello!
First and foremost thank you for reading! I've been working on this story for a while so the chapters will get better as the story moves on *finger's crossed*

Anyways, The song of the chapter is Alive by Sia because I think it kind of describes Jamie in a way!
Please vote, comment and any feedback is accepted in any form!