This is my entry for @_diamonds' Musical Writes Contest. The song I'm supposed to use is Me Without You by TobyMac.
First of all, I would like to-once again-thank @_diamonds for introducing me to this amazing song. I'm always an avid fan of TobyMac. Let me just take this chance to say that, yes, I'm a proud Christian. His songs are just so universal; although they are spiritual songs, they can be easily dedicated to other precious people in our lives! And I especially love this one.
I would also thank @TwinStarLala for giving me an idea for the title of my story. Yes, I'm going through severe writer's block and this is such a big help for me.
And finally, thanks to @Magicstudy for making the super cute banner on the side. She owns full rights to it :)
So, enjoy Strawberry Kisses!
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"Mama! You interrupted my show!" I hid my superstar pose shyly as my mother entered my room without knocking. She giggled and lifted me off the floor, cuddling me in her arms. "You've been singing again, Stacy?"
"Of course! Give me oil in my lamp, keep me burning, burning, burning!" I sang with all my heart. My mother raised me very conservatively-at five, of course the only songs I had in my head were church songs she taught me. But I'd never stopped loving music since then.
"That's so pretty, Sweetheart. But, we gotta prepare for church soon," she made me stand on my pink bed as she opened my closet. "What shall you wear today, I wonder?"
"Keep me burning 'til the break of day!" I danced while semi-jumping on my bed sheet.
"Get dressed now, Princess," my mother placed her index finger on my tiny lips as she helped me dress up. "You're gonna be an amazing singer one day, but trust me, true heart keeps you on top."
"True heart keeps you on top," I repeated, the child in my heart not understanding even a glimpse of what it meant. I just nodded, and she kissed my cheek.
"Ew, Mom!" I yelled. My mother laughed. She always had her favorite strawberry lip gloss on, and I've expressed my hate for it ever since I could speak.
Mom's strawberry kissess.
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"'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling... And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly," I read through the lyrics displayed on my phone as I sang my heart out. My peripheral view caught the producers sitting on the table across me watching eagerly. They were not just after my voice, I knew-they were a group of men in their mid-thirties and they had always welcomed young, aspiring females who lusted for stardom. I smiled thinly as I saw their eyes exploring my clothing and my bare legs.
"That's enough," one of them raised their hands, and the music stopped. I grinned. "So... how was it?"
"You don't seem... comfortable," the producer started speaking. I cleared my throat and looked to the floor, as if the supposed reply to his statement was written there.
"It's not-my genre," I let out an awkward laugh. Back home, I knew my mother would not be happy at all when she found out about this. I couldn't say that she was happy when I decided not to go to college, and move to the city.
"I just wanna sing, Mom. It's all I've been dreaming about. All my life," I remembered myself pleading with all the strain in my voice. My mother scanned through the packed suitcases in my room, and I knew she wished she could unpack them with her eyes. She sighed. "Are you sure you're gonna be alright out there? The world is a cruel place, Stacy. I know you have talent-but you are... you are light."
