I grasped the microphone and looked down at the huge crowd that came to witness our gig. My palms were sweating like crazy and my heart felt like it was going to burst out my chest any minute. I stared in awe at the people screaming my name. Judging from the size of the audience, this was definitely not a gig. This is a fucking concert. MY fucking concert.
I gaped at the wild crowd for the umpteenth time, feeling surreal. They were all chanting my name.
JO! JO! JO!
The chants became louder and I unashamedly basked in the afterglow.
JO! JO! JO!
Am I dreaming? Is this for real?
JO! JO! JO!
"Joooo!"
"Wh-what?" Somebody pushed me off the stage and I fell flat on my face.
I woke up with a jolt.
Where am I? It took me a while to realize that I fell from my bed and I was sprawled on the floor like one of those rich people's dead bear-rugs.
It was all just a dream.
Shit.
I spun around as I heard a snicker behind me.
"Real mature, puke-face. You really had to resort to violence just to wake me up?"
My nine year old brother, Josh, pouted then flopped beside me on the floor. "Well you were sleeping like a log! Mom's called you like, a million times already."
Oh. So that was my mom calling me.
Fucking dream.
I snapped out of my reverie and went downstairs, my brothet tagging along behind me.
"JOHAIRA NICOLE BUENAVISTA MORRISON! Why in God's name have you overslept when you fully know today's your first day in senior high?" Mom's voice boomed out of the kitchen, laddle in hand, the other placed dominantly on her hips.
I groaned inwardly and slumped at the kitchen counter. It was never good when my mom calls me by my full name. Shit's about to happen, I'm sure of it.
"Mom, I told you. We had a gig last night. The crowd wanted an encore and we had no choice but to give them one." I tried to supress the pride swelling inside me. Last night was the biggest gig we had so far and the people loved us!
"Yes, yes dear. I know how much you care about that little band of yours." She said nonchalantly while cooking.
"Obviously you don't." I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?!"
Cheesuuus. The woman's got a friggin' vulcan hearing!
"N-nothing, Mommy. I just can't help but notice how beautiful you are today! Have you lost weight?" I batted my eyelashes for extra effect. I sooo know how to win my mom over.
She gaped at me like I was some raging lunatic rather than her daughter, but I just continued making gooey-eyes on her.
"Dios mio. What do you want Johaira?"
YES! I high-fived myself mentally. "Okay, here's the thing. There will be a battle of the bands event tomorrow night just outside town and it's gonna be totally wicked! We had the privilege to be invited--"
"Which means you had to beg on all fours to get in." My mom said, and there was an evil glint in her eyes and I don't like it one bit.
I gave an exasperated sigh and continued. "Yes mom, me and the band got on all fours to be invited but still... we got in! We'll be competing mom! There will be producers there scouting for new talents, not to mention the prize is fucking rad!"
"Watch your language, young lady." My mom snapped, casting a look at Josh who was busy picking boogers out of his nose. Ugh. How can I be related to such a gross human being?
"Sorry." I said quickly. I didn't want to upset my mom into not letting me go so I had to be Miss Goody Two-Shoes until she agreed to let me go. "Sooo.. what do you say mom?" We'll be home the day after tomorrow."
"And skip classes? What are you turning into, Johaira? The next thing I know, you'll be selling drugs and getting into windowless vans with strangers offering you candies!" She shuddered exaggeratedly.
See, you could label my mom as the Ultimate Drama Queen and that would still be an understatement.
"Mom, school's just started! There won't be any exams to take yet. No lessons to be discussed. The first week of class is just five days of everyone updating everyone of their fabulous summer and showing off their gorgeous tans. Everybody knows that mom."
My mom pondered this for a minute or so, undoubtedly looking for a loophole to what I just said. The anticipation is killing me and I've got butterflies the size of overgrown eagles clawing in my stomach.
"No alcohol. Call me every four hours. No drugs. Text me where you are, who you're with, what you're eating, where you're sleeping, who you're sleeping with--"
"Do you want me to call you when I'm taking a dump too?" I asked innocently, which sent her over the edge.
"JOHAIRA NICOLE BUENAVISTA MORRISON!"
I cringed. She knows how I hate it when I'm called by my complete name and she uses it to her advantage.
I held my hands up and gave her a puppy-look. "Thank you mommy dearest."
It was her turn to do some eye-rolling. "Fine. Now eat yout cereal. You'll be late for school."
YOU ARE READING
Taming the Rocker Chick
Genç KurguSynopsis: Jo Morrison is the type of girl you don't wanna mess with. Behind her angelic face is a fighter with a heart of stone. She has been through hell and back, and maybe that's the reason for her hard exterior. Kaleb McCoy is definitely not yo...