Rooted

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A large crowed stood in front of the arcade in the mall. Everyone was excited to see how the competitions would lay out. Richard took a nervous swig of water once a minute due to his anxiety. Jared stood near him with headphones in and a faint pink tint to his cheeks.

"He's probably nervous too." Richard mused to himself. The doors opened and the swarm of patrons ruched in; Normal Boots followed and stood in a group near the kareoke stage. No one had told Richard that his leg of the competition was first. His body shook slightly due to frayed nerves and a possibly low blood sugar from not having eatten in the past 24 hours. He was in his own world, thinking through his music, until the first contestant was on stage. One by one they came on and sang. Richard analysed them as they sang, assesded how cute they were, and thought of the probablities of them being gay. He was ripped from his annalisis as Jon pushed past him and walked on stage. He told everyone that Richard would represent Normal Boots and walked off like it ment nothing.

"Richard will be performing Blue Lips by Regina Spektor." One of the judges, that Richard hadn't heard the name of, stated into his mic. The American felt like a sacrifical virgin from the movies as he walked on stage with a pale and nervous complection. As the music started, however, he closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the music.

"He stumbled into faith and thought,

God this is all there is?

The pictures in his mind awoke,

and began to breath." He started off. His feet were planted to where he had stopped on stage and his palm was sweaty, but he sang the lyrics and tune as if no one was there; his eyes would close, then open partially in a dreamy fashion, then close again. When his eyes were opened, they were focusd on the gray wall above the croud's colective head. He crashendoed and decrashendoed like normal and annunciated precicly. As his favorite part of the song neared, Richard's eyes stayed open in their dreamy position. He began moving his free hand slightly as the part started and a proud smile ebbed onto his lips as the words flowed off his tongue.

"They started off beneith the Knowledge Tree,

and they chopped it down to make a white picket fence,

and they marched along the railroad tracks,

they smiled real,

wide for the camera lens.

They made it past the enemy lines,

just to become enslaved in the assembly lines." As the last word lept from his lips, the happiness drained from his face and was replaced with a mixture of pleading for the croud to understand, and saddness. He didn't register that he was being fairly expressive visually and vocally. Richard's eyelids slid closed again as the ending of the song filled the air and his quiet voice fell silent. He opened his eyes to see the croud staring back. The room was deathly quiet until a girl's voice rang out cheering for him, causing the rest of the people to also sipral out of control. His face flushed beet red from the uproar and he quickly hurried off the stage. Richard walked past where the Normal Boots members stood and hurried to the back of the room to consol himself. He managed to look up at the stage just in time to see a hatted individual toss their hat to the side to reveal soft looking pink hair.

"Cake!" Richard squeeked happily. The girl all but tore off what she was wearing to reveal a sequenced tanktop, ripped short-shorts, and tall healed boots. The outfit would have gotten her into a ton of trouble at Richard's old school; how dare she show off her shoulders! Richard watched on with excitement as she danced around the stage and sang. She sparkled and shimmered with every movement. He clapped quietly as she began to leave the stage, but stopped as a wave of nauseua hit him.

"Get it together! We are-" The small male cut himself off as his body suddenly felt abnormally cold. He pressed his fingers against his pantlegs and shut his eyes. It felt as if someone was grinding their pencil eraser into his temple. His body tremmbled like a sappling in a tornado. Although his eyes were closed, he saw in third person, thorned vines sprout from the floor and wrap themselfs around his calfs. Rooted like the wallflower he truly was. He pulled himself back to reality before anyone could notice and forced all the pain and discomfort down. "It's over isn't it?" He asked himself quietly like a broken reccord and went in serch of his Glittery God.

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