Truths

Awards

          December was the month that Jeremy notified me of my three nominations for Breakout Artist Female, Song of the Year, and surprisingly, Red Carpet Trend Setter. I had not recalled what special outfit I might have worn during the few times I actually walked on the Red Carpet to earn me a nomination for Red Carpet Trend Setter, but I figured it best not to question it.

          Not much else happened that late autumn month other than the following: more acting lessons, college applications, and failed attempts to reach Lindsey via phone and internet. Oh. And Christmas. I couldn't possibly forget about my favorite holiday. There was a feast and some ceremonial tree lighting and tiny children dressed as elves. But I digress.

          January 11th was the scheduled night for the Teen Entertainment Awards, giving fans a little over a month to support their favorite musicians and actors. For the few people who might have voted for me, I made sure to send my gratitude through Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and every other social media hub teenagers were so caught up on. Though technically Jeremy's new intern Aislee had been the one directly typing up the statuses. I wasn't quite sure why Jeremy refused to let me see anything online that pertained to my being, even if they were supposed to be my own accounts. He said something about it being for my own good and then something about leading a somewhat normal life.

          The date of the event came quicker than I anticipated, and I realized this when woke up on a Saturday morning to an obnoxiously yapping five-foot six man wearing golden skinny pants, a golden-lined white dress shirt, and a black tie.

          "Cha Cha," I groaned, half-asleep on my bed. "What are you doing in my house?"

          "Your motha let me in," he answered sassily. "Now get your kaboose up. We need to fix you up for the awards show tonight." I shot up into a sitting position, my pupils twice as large as they had been.

          "Oh no, that's tonight?" I asked distressfully. "What time is it?"

          "Eleven in the morning. I already let you sleep in. Now take a shower and hurry up," Cha Cha complained. He took a portion of my bed hair into his manicured fingers and sneered. "By the looksof it, we're going to need all the time we can get to make you look dazzling." I swatted his hand away and pushed myself from off of the matress.

          "Could you at least wait in the living room? You can come back here when I done showering and getting dressed," I told my personal stylist. He tapped his pointer finger on his wristwatch as if to remind me to hurry up. Cha Cha exited my room and, once I was sure he was at least halfway down the stairs, I walked out myself to go to the bathroom.

          I took my sweet time in the shower and then dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. From upstairs, I could hear my mother and Cha Cha conversing, though I couldn't quite make out the words they said. Brushing my hair with a comb, I walked down the stairs to join the two chatting adults. "What are you guys talking about?"

          "Oh, just about all of the very important people that will be there tonight and --" Cha Cha's mouth hung open when he glanced up at me. "Why do you look like that!?"

          "What?" I stood frozen in the miniature hallway that connected the living room and dining room.

          "Your face!" he shrieked.

          "What's wrong with my face?" I shot back defensively, suddenly conscious of the way I appeared to the fashionable man. Cha Cha rose from the couch he shared with my mother, grabbed his make up kit beside him, and took me by the arm. He lead me back upstairs to my room and sat me down on my bed.