Hi everyone.
I hope you like this story. If you like, vote and comment. I have no intention of it being successful, but if it is... BONUS!
Im reaaaaaaaaaaally bored. It's Friday night and I'm sitting at home on my computer. Sad. :P
Hope you like it! More to come!
~Gabi
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A Secret Star- Chapter 1
He eyed me carefully, like he was regretting his choice. Yeah right.
"Come on. Hurry up already," I pestered.
He slowly lay down next to me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his tight grasp. He leant forward and out lips met.
It was like an explosion. His mouth tasted so sweet and fresh, like biting into a juicy apple.
It felt like hours, but it was only minutes.
He suddenly pulled away from me.
"What did I do?" I asked, "Do you want to... you know...?"
I held my hands to my shirt and was slowly unbuttoning it.
"No. No way." was his reply.
He got up and walked to the door.
"James. Please. Wait..."
"No Belle. I've waited. I... I... I just can't do this anymore."
He walked out.
You're probably thinking "what the heck is going on?" Well I'll tell you.
My name is Isabelle. People call me Is or Belle for short.
I THOUGHT James was my boyfriend.
I don't think so any more.
So, I'll tell you the start of this long and boring story I call my life. Well at least the bit where this whole dilemma started.
When I was 6 years old, my mum died. My father was an alcoholic and beat her to death in front of me. He was arrested and I had no parents.
The Government said they would find me a home, find someone who would adopt me.
They didn't.
I was living on the street, by myself. I managed to find food in dumpsters and bins.
I was too young to work, so my life really, well, sucked.
But I could sing.
I would go, every Saturday, to the market on the corner of Main Street. There were always buskers there so I didn't really stand out, even though, by that time, I was only about 7 and a half.
The first song I sang was "Don't Stop Believin'". That song was really close to me because I didn't stop believing, EVER. I always had faith.
"Don't stop, believinnn, Hold on to that feeeeeling..."
I loved that song. And so did the audience.
Every week I would have a small crowd gather around me, giving me all their spare change. That was how I could afford proper food, even though I didn't get much it was better than nothing.
Then there was one day where someone came up to me.
"Excuse me, miss? What's your name?" the woman asked me.
"Uh... it's Isabelle. Why?"
"Oh, just because I work at a talent agency and I heard you singing. You're really good!"
"Ohh. T...t...thanks," I stuttered. I could feel my face turning red.
"You're welcome! My name is Mary Howard."
"Nice to meet you Ms. Howard,"
"Oh please," she said, "Call me Mary."
She invited me into her car. And yes, I know that every child, including ME, was taught to never talk to strangers, especially if they want to take you somewhere. But in my case, there should be an exception. This lady was the best thing that happened to me so far, so I honestly could care less. Being in her car was much better that being out on the cold streets.
The entire duration of the car ride was her asking me about my life. I swear, what I told her in the car was the most I've told anyone about my life, even the temporary nanny I had when my dad was on trial. For some reason, I had so much trust in Mary. It was weird.
Let's skip forward a few years now. It was my 11th birthday. What Mary said turned out to be the truth. She was the head of a talent agency called "Stars". I did a few ads, was in the background of music videos and played background characters in plays. I was earning a lot of money for someone my age.
So I lived in a penthouse suite, at the top of the Sir Duke Hotel in San Francisco. I had the entire floor. It was any kid's heaven. Indoor PRIVATE pool, voice activated EVERYTHING, in-built disco ball, dance floor, karaoke machine and kitchen. There was also 4 bedrooms, 1 master for me, 2 guest rooms and one for the maid, who came every fortnight and stayed over a 2 day period.
It was amazing.
So, now I'm 17. Boyfriend-less, a school outcast, considered a reject, friend-less and super depressed.
I understand that my life now was better than it was before, but sometimes I wish I had those little crowds of people around me on the street again. I wish I could feel pride again, when I performed. I sang. I danced. It was indescribable.
As soon as I hit my 12th birthday, Mary made sure that I was enrolled at the nearest private school, with a top music department.
"Pier-View Private School", right on the Wharf. Yay (not).
Being a loner was one thing, but being a reject was, well, depressing. I had no friends and I was constantly pranked on my first week of school.
But then they heard my voice.
It was the musical audition. I was going for the part of Gabriella Montez in High School Musical.
I aced it. Everyone else in the room was staring, mouths wide open. There was also a massive crowd around the door.
For the first time in years, I felt proud.
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