Immune

Guitar Villain

DAMN! I love Jagged Stone. I'm dancing around my room playing the air guitar and headbanging to Jagged; the best way to spend a Saturday. GodDAMN, he's awesome. He's a true rock star! Like AC/DC, Guns n Roses, Nirvana, Metallica. All of them are incredible! I didn't know Paris had true rockers. I thought all they had was perfume ad wannabes. That kid, XY, is trash. His songs are all repetitive, there's no passion at all, no unique qualities. Absolute garbage.

My jamming is interrupted by a phone call. It's Mari. Huh, wonder what she wants? There's no projects or anything and she knows I don't do my homework unless absolutely necessary. I answer the phone not knowing what to expect.

"Hello?"

"Y/N!"

"Jesus!" I almost drop my phone. "What happened to you? There's no Hakuna Matatas."

"You won't believe this! Guess who I'm designing an album cover for!" She screams into the receiver. 

"Taylor Swift?" 

"No."

"Kanye West?"

"Oh goodness, thank god no," she sighs in relief. I giggle a bit.

"Oh! I got it," I say raising my finger up dramatically. "Nickelback!"

"NO!" She screams. "Oh my lord," hey I'm rubbing off on her, "Just come over here." I laugh a bit and agree. I throw on a hoodie and some jeans, throwing my phone and wallet in my front pocket. Screw bags, I'm a cool kid.

About five minutes later I arrive at Mari's house. I climb the stairs, greet Mr. Dupain and Mrs. Cheng then burst into Mari's room.

"You better have brought me here for Beyoncé!" I announce loudly.

"Next best thing!" Mari replies even louder. She bolts up from her chair and runs straight into my arms. "JAGGED STONE PERSONALLY ASKED ME TO DESIGN HIS NEXT ALBUM COVER!!" She screams into my neck. 

"OH MY GOD!" My arms are around her torso and hers are around my neck. I lift her off the ground and twirl like in a cliche romance movie. I let her down, both of us smiling and jumping up and down like idiots. "Okay! Let's get to work," I say and guide her to the desk. "Did he give you any references?"

Her breath hitches a bit. This can't be good. "Well, Bob Roth, Jagged's producer, told me that Jagged was changing his style to be more like this," she hands me an XY album cover. I nearly throw up.

"Really? Jagged wants to look like this?" I scrunch my nose and look at the cover again. "If his style is this he'll look like Kristen Stewart in Belle Delphine's clothes." Mari snorts. I mean, it's true though. "Who was the dude that told you this?"

"Bob Roth," she reminds me. I drag a chair up to her desk and push her aside a bit so I can reach her computer. Mari continues her work on the perfume ad- I mean, album cover for Jagged. Only Mari could make a shitty ass perfume ad look hella good. Shaking my head, I type in 'bob roth' and a big dude with a pink shirt and a tan coat with sunglasses shows up. Even he looks like a perfume ad. I click on his Facebook. His bio reads: 

I'm a fun-loving guy with a kid and a beautiful wife. I am the CEO of Roth Records. Roth Records is the best in the biz. We only employ the top chart artists. XY and Jagged Stone are our pride and joy.

I enjoy modern music, camping, father-son time- Blah Blah Blah.

'Father-son time'? I scroll down a bit more to see Roth and a blond kid standing in front of a million-dollar RV. Excuse me, sir, that's called glamping, not camping. I zoom in on the kid's face.