Musos In Love - Book 1

Musos In Love

You know that show on MTV? My Super Sweet Sixteen? How all the kids that go on it have extremely wealthy parents and extremely awesome parties? Well I have half of that, only problem is I don’t want it. If you have the wealth and you have the fame, how do you know who wants to be with you because you are rich and which ones wants to be with you because they really like you? Answer: You don’t.

So first day at a new school, one word, awkward, no friends, nowhere to sit, no one to talk to. Oh except for the teachers, who would constantly ensure me that the other kids here were great people and really easy to get along with. Like I would believe that, after your seventh school in two years you start to lose hope for teenage kind. Every school has your plastic perfect ‘popular’ girls, your sexed up footy fag guys, and then there is everyone else. I normally fit somewhere between popular and muso.

In my time I had been in three bands, but none of them had kept me long, it’s hard to commit to something when you might be moving to the other side of the country next week. But I suppose when your mum is an artist and your dad is a musician, there’s really not much you can do but sit back and enjoy the ride. And so far, I had sat back but not enjoyed the ride. My parents believed that it was because I was so shy that it was too late by the time I really opened up. But with the promise of a whole year in the smallest town I’ve yet to live in, Brisbane, it was sure to be enough to time to gather a smidge of moss before moving on to the next city.

But more about my dear old folks, well mum didn’t really hit the artistic field until she decided that it was awesome to paint over sized paintings of crowds of people and then hang them up squashed together in a room, although I must admit it was an awesome idea. And dad, well let’s just say dad had been around for a long time, both he and mum had been so stoked about having me that they decided to paint and write hundreds of things about me and hang them in my room, it was seriously supreme. The only problem was every time we moved I would have to take it all done and hang it back up, I never got it quite the same, so I gave up, a long time ago, and just hung it where I thought it would best go.

As I thought about how I was going to hang my multiple artistic things in my room, I found the most awesome book store I’d ever seen. It was an antique book store, with only tattered bound books, but it wasn’t that that had me hook, line and sinker in love with it. I fell in love with it because somehow it reminded me of me. As I walked past I made a mental note to check it out on the way home from school. Mum and dad had insisted that I should let them drop me at school, but I declined, stating that they were both procrastinating about having to meet their deadlines.

I continued on until I saw a reflection of myself in the mirror, short severe brown bob but diagonally cut, longed legged, short body, creamy coloured skin, with huge light green eyes peeping out from under my Lady Gaga inspired fringe. I was dressed normally in a pair of high-top sequined purple converses, with a jay jays black and grey flannel looking shirt, with a pair of grey skinny jeans. For a first day at school, especially an artistic school, you’d think I might even dress up. But no, same clothing for every place, I liked reliable, I liked having an order. This is why I didn’t date. Well boys didn’t really interest me, not that girls did. Just I was quite happy to just be single, although sometimes it did appeal to my less reasonable senses that a boyfriend might be nice, if only for company. I used to get lonely a lot, because I moved so much. But as I moved around more and more I just found it simple to not have many friends and just keep myself busy with music, or books, or artistic work. I wrote a lot of books, ever since Twilight I had found myself writing more and more, but not just about normal things. I loved writing about vampires, werewolves and ever-lasting life. Although, if I ever was offered something like immortality I would decline, my life was too boring, to torturous to continue on for eternity. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred in my life. Nothing. I wasn’t even the stereotypical ‘rich girl’. I did try; oh I tried so very very hard. But it didn’t work out, nobody would talk to me because quiet obviously I was a try-hard, no one would sit near me because normally I didn’t stay at lunch times; I fled.