Stardom *DISCONTINUED*

Chapter One

~Hi, I'm Bex, Country-bumpkin extrordinaire and this is the story of how a three best friends, and two strangers became friends closer than family, and worldwide superstars. It all started on a rather sucktastic, rainy morning in early October when the afore mentioned trio of friends were going to be moving from our hometown of Naniamo in British Columbia...~

"THISTLE! THORNE! GET OUT OF BED! WE HAVE TO BE AT THE AIRPORT BY 6:30 AM AND IT'S 5:30! GET UP! " I yelled from the hallway.

I heard no sounds that even remotely resembled the two of them getting out if bed. I just heard them groaning, the beds creaking and the whisper of the blankets moving, followed shortly by snoring. It was weird that I was  awake first; usually I'm the one who has to be forcibly woken up.

I walked quietly down stairs and grabbed a bowl, filling it with icey water. I crept into Thistle's empty, dimly-lit, beige-walled room and gently crawled onto the bed. Silently, I poised the bowl over her head, ready to dump the ice-cold water on her as she slept. Before I had the chance to dump the water on her, Thistle abrubtly woke up and noticed the bowl.

"I swear if you dump that on me, you will regret it," she threatened me harshly, te look in her violet eyes challenged me to test her on it. I wasn't in the mood to die that day; so, reluctantly, the bowl of frigid water was pulled back in my direction and away from her.

"Fine," I sighed defeatedly. Then I asked her deviously, "Anyways, you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

She nodded vigorously, an evil grin forming on her chapped lips. I clambered off her bed and we stalked into Thorne's dark, also empty, white-walled room. Quietly I passed Thistle the still-cold bowl, which she dumped unceremoniously onto Thorne's serene face. Thistle quickly dropped the bowl, which landed on the carpeted floor with a 'thud', and we dashed out of there like bats out of hell.

"BEX! THISTLE! YOU TWO ARE SO DEAD WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" Thorne roared fumingly from the top of the stairs. I looked back to see she was dripping and water was pooling around her feet. She looked absolutely furious.

Thistle and I started laughing because of how rediculous she looked; she resembled a drowned rat. That laughing was a stupid mistake on our part. Thorne soon found us in the kitchen. She slapped us both on the shoulder, then apologised, and scolded us like two-year-olds; telling us not to dump water on people, that it's rude, blah, blah, blah.

After the scolding, we all went back upstairs and got dressed. After stuffing my dirty clothes and bedding into my suicase, I grabbed all of my stuff from the bathroom. Each thing was in its own plastic zip-lock bag and then in my toiletries bag.Thistle's was there too, in the exact same type of packaging.  I smiled to myself. Thorne was here first. Returning to my room, I secured the bag before zipping and locking the special lock. 

"Have you guys got everything?" Thorne asked in her motherly tone. She was making sure we didn't leave anything behind, as we couldn't get it back if we did.

"Yup, we can go now," I answered impatiently. But a thought hit me, "Wait, where's my guitar?"

"I mailed it out last week. Now let's get going," Thorne said urgently.

I picked up my blue hard-top suitcase again and we headed out to the cab Thorne called for after scoling us earlier. The cabbie, whom was a kindly old man, opened up the trunk and helped us load our cases into it. Thorne thanked him and he responded with a sweet smile. Thistle and I sat in the back and Thorne rode in the front seat, beside the cabbie.

Everything other than the few things we had kept for our last week in the small had already been sent to our new house. We each had a suitcase and a carry-on to take with us on the plane. Of course, we'd made certain that the packages wouldn't be taken by setting up a PO box in our new town, and paying for it so that our things would arrive intact and be ready for us to collect later.