Broken Strings

Chapter Sixteen

"I'm not wearing that." I stand in front of my mother.

"Darling it's all the trend. All the singers are wearing things like this now a days." She smiles holding up the sad excuse for the outift.

"All the female singers you mean. That wouldn't even fit a guys arm." I point out. She was insisting on me wearing what can only be described as a bathing suit with hooker boots to my interview today.

"I think it's cute." Charlotte shrugs.

"Yeah well you would." I snap at her. My Mother and sister look at me in shock. To be honest I'm quite surprised at myself as well.

"People are getting sick of the nun look Esther. Everyone knows you can sing now you've just got to show people if you have the body for it. It's not enough to act the part you've got to look the part as well." My Mother cuts in.

"I totally understand why she doesn't want to wear it. I'm not too sure the world is ready to see the real Esther." Charlotte pays me back for the snide comment.

"Honey people will like you better if you just dress up a bit." My Mother says.

My blood boils as I stare at the woman. Any other Mother would be ashamed with her daughter dressing like a whore. Mine doesn't care once it gets more horny boys to buy our album.

"I'm a singer Mother. I'd love to be a stripper but I wouldn't want to step on Charlotte's heels."

"Esther you need a change from your normal style." My Mother points at my outift cutting Charlotte off from screaming at me. I'm pretty sure I saw claws come out of her hands.

"What do you mean actual clothes that cover up my body?" The two go to open their mouths. Charlotte with a snide comment and my mother with another demand. "Save it." I say raising my hand to the two.

Storming out of the room I make my way to the nearer exits. That is one of the reason I got into all this. To show girls that they don't have to bear all to be wanted. That they can be amazing in anything they wear. In front of me I see a head of blonde hair buried in his phone. I walk straight for him.

"Do you like my outfit?" I ask a bit forcefully. His blue eyes scan me in a confused manner.

"What?" He asks taking a lollypop out of his mouth.

"Do you mind what I'm wearing? Do you think I look nice? Do you think I'd look nicer in something scimpier? Would it make me more appealing, would more people like our music?" Tears stream down my face as the words rush out. Luke wraps his arms around me and drags me away. He opens a random door and we end up in the kitchen. There seems to be a pattern here.

"Hey. Shh come here." Luke hugs me tight. After my breathing begins to slow Luke lifts me onto the counter top. I'm still barely at eye level with the boy. "What happened?"

"My Mother said that I need to change my style. That people were getting fed up of the way I dressed. That if I flashed more skin people would like us more." I tell him. His blue eyes watching me growing more confused and angry with each word.

"That is the biggest load of bullcrap I've ever heard. You don't need to change. You are perfectly fine the way you are. You're where you are beacuse of who you are not because of what you wear." Luke wipes the tears from my cheek. His cologne was familiar now and his blue eyes made me feel safe. The way his lips curled made me feel special.

"Don't remind me." I mumble fiddling with the bracelets on my wrists.

"Hey." Luke lifts my face up. "You're insane. Mad in the head. Loud, grumpy, rude even mean to me sometimes." I drop my head out of his hands but he picks it up again.