Interstella 5555: The 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem Fan Fiction

Interstella 5555: The 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem Fan Fiction (Part II)

           Stella.

            Bass.

            24.

            Memphis.

            Fashion, Shopping, Rodeo

            Animal Hunting.

            When I woke up, those words were floating around in my head. I also had no clue where I was. Everything had a slight pinkish hue. I felt something sitting on my face so I reached up to see what. There was a pair of pink-lensed sunglasses and a plastic mask covering my mouth and nose that pumped breathable air. I wondered why until I heard the whooshing noises that surround me. I was in a small, roundish vehicle that was flying at an impossibly fast speed. I sat up from the cold metal chair I was reclined in and looked around. Three unconscious men, who I didn’t know, but I had a strange feeling that I did, surrounded me.

            One man had dark brown, shoulder-length hair, pale skin, and he seemed about my height. He was wearing odd ripped and torn up clothes that seemed to have been purposely made to look that way, and with that thought, I looked down to see what I was wearing; a forest green cropped tube top, an extremely short tan skirt, a salmon colored leather jacket that had fringe by the end of the sleeves, knee-high socks that matched my top, tall brown boots that have a tall heel, and a dark brown woven belt. I don’t remember owning such clothes, yet I can’t seem to remember much anyway, so I could have.

             The next man was a shorter and younger man who also had brown hair, but his was longer and a lighter shade. Then, a strand of dirty blonde almost brown hair fell in my face. It was not a color I particularly liked, but it didn’t seem like I could do anything about it at the moment. He was wearing worn-out cutoff jeans and a blank black shirt with the sleeves cut off. His clothes weren’t as strange as the first’s but were strange nonetheless.

            I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, so I turned to see the third man slightly twitching in his unconscious state. He was obviously a few years older than the first and had darker skin and a small black Afro. His clothes were less strange than the others; a light tan suit with a light blue ruffled shirt. I found it odd that all four of us, the unconscious men and I, were wearing sunglasses despite the dark interior of the rocket we were traveling in.

            I was about to pull mine off my face when the ship came to a sudden stop. The rough stop jarred two of the three men awake, and they looked around confused at their odd surroundings. When the man with the darker brown hair looked at me, I felt a spark of longing and recognition. I couldn’t make sense of it, so I just ignored it.

            “We should wake him,” I said with a hoarse voice and pointed at the shorter man. My voice sounded like it hadn’t been used for a while, but I didn’t really care. I just wanted to get out of the claustrophobic ship.

            “I’ll do it,” said the first man, also with a hoarse voice. He then shook the still unconscious one until the shorter man woke up.

            “Where am I? Who are you? What am I doing here?” He shouted out as soon as his eyes flew open. He looked panicked as his eyes searched around the small rocket. “Let me out! I need to get out now!” Just as he spoke those words, a panel in the side of the rocket opened.

            We filed out of the vehicle, and the wall in front of us slid open to reveal a large screen and a large man watching what was playing; the four of us, the three strangely dressed men from the vehicle and me, wearing the same clothes we are now, and playing in a band, which explains our odd getup. Something seemed to tug at my brain, almost like a memory or flashback. I know I’ve played in band before, possibly with the three men, but definitely not what was playing on the screen before us.

            Nothing seemed right to me, the three strangers who aren’t, my clothing, this whole experience I’ve had since I have come back to consciousness, and especially not the large man who was positioned in front of the screen. As if reading my thoughts, he turned to face us and had a wicked grin on his face. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know where I’m supposed to be, but it’s not here, not with the strange man before us, not with these men who I’ve never met. I need to get out of here. The shorter man was right to freak out. But, none of us moved an inch from where we were standing, perhaps paralyzed out of fear.

            “Ah! Welcome! My name is Mr. Darkwood. It is a pleasure to finally get to meet you,” he boomed as he approached the group of us. “You must be Stell,” he stuck his hand towards me, and I hesitantly shook it. He then went on to shake the men’s hands. I finally got learn their names; the one with the Afro was Octave, the shorter one was Baryl, and the tall, handsome one with the dark brown hair was Arpegius. His named was the only one to seem vaguely familiar to me, and I still can’t remember anything.

            “Why exactly are we here?” questioned Arpegius, and he seemed to be the bravest one of the bunch.

            “You were all part of an infamous band that I’ve decide to help out,” Mr. Darkwood answered.

            “Why? What do you get out of it?” Arpegius sounded bitter.

            Mr. Darkwood marched over to where Arpegius stood. “Listen here, you work for me now. Got it? You will now be known as The Crescendolls. Understand? I will provide everything you need for your music careers to be successful. Why must you question me?” He spoke angrily as his face got red. “You are dismissed. You will be shown to your room by one of my men.” And when he finished speaking, a buff man came out from around the corner and led us away from the fuming Mr. Darkwood.

…