Singing = Death (but not really)

Chapter 3

~~Wyatt Charles

Friday 13th, 8:30 Am~~

                                                                Chapter Three

                The life of a movie star is not all it's cracked up to be. Trust me, I would know.

                "Wyatt Andrew Charles!"

                Exhibit A, and that's not even my Mom.

                "What, Sherrill? What could you possible need at... 8:30 in the morning?" Agents are so demanding.

                "Wyatt, you have a photo shoot at 9:30 and the site is half an hour away. Get your ass out of bed and get ready!" Sherrill is a yeller. Her and my mom can go at it for an hour about absolutely nothing.

                "Dang Sherrill, okay, I'm going."

                "Good, we leave in twenty minutes," she said walking out of my room. I swear it's like she lives here. But she really doesn't. I don't know how she has the will-power to get out of bed and get over here, all before 9 o'clock. I personally think she is a vampire. That would explain a lot. And vampires are all over the place. I would know, I played one.

                Twenty-five minutes later we were in the car, cruising out of my Beverly Hills neighborhood. I was trying to listen to Sherrill talk about my day's schedule, but I couldn't concentrate. She has been saying the same thing for the past five years, ever since my first movie, The Boy Who Could, took off. I was the boy who could.

                I wish something interesting would happen. I know people say that I have it good, with my looks, charm, and all the privileges in the world, but I want something else to happen. Just...something.

                "...Oh, and Whit called yesterday and I told her you would call her back today. She has already texted you since being in the car, so call her," Sherrill said, looking up from her PDA to see if I was paying attention. I was. I like Whit alright. We starred in some of the same movies a while back, but she has this fixation with me. I don't know if she really likes me, but she is telling everyone that we are together; it's annoying.

                "Fine," I said, looking up her number in my phone.

                "Be nice," Sherrill said. It's like she's my mother.

                "Hey Whit, what's up?"

                "Hey babe, I'm fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere with me and some friends," Whit said over the phone. I could hear her laughing with those 'friends."

                "Well, when and where? I'd have to ask Sherrill if I have time for anything," I said, looking at Sherrill with pleading eyes. She likes Whit; says it's good publicity if we are seen together. I hate publicity, of any kind. I just want to go to college somewhere that's not here. But I can't tell her or my parents that. They would all have heart-attacks.

                "Well, tonight, I was thinking about hopping on my plane and going to see some friends from back home, go to a bar, relax without cameras, stay the weekend at my old home...How does that sound?"

                Sherrill heard and was already making the arrangements, guess it was settled.

                "Uh, sure, that's sounds cool. See you later. Text me the details." I was already hanging up the phone when she said I love you. I wish she wouldn't do that.

                "Sherrill, why do girls say they love you, if they don't mean it?" I try to keep it professional between Sherrill and me, but this question is for a girl. And Sherrill's a girl, I think.

                "Well, she could just be in 'lust', or she really could like you. Or she could be showing out to her friends. That's the one I would bet on. I mean, you are Wyatt Charles. If her friends thought that you two loved each other, she would get a lot of attention."

                "But she already gets a lot of attention. Dang, she is an actress and singer. What more could you want?"

                "But she wants attention from her friends. See, all of her friends do exactly what she does, so the fact that she is an actress and singer doesn't faze them, but if you two were going out, they would think she was a goddess," Sherrill said all this like it is was no big deal. I think Whit needs help.

                "That's stupid. Whatever. I don't understand girls. So what's this photo shoot for?"

                "Polo cologne; it should only take an hour, then you can get ready for your weekend with Whit in the middle of nowhere."

                "Middle of nowhere? What do you mean?"

                "She lives in a little town west of Nashville. I think it's called Ashville."

                "Please, can't I have something to do? Please."

                "Nope."

                Woman hates me.  But she loves Whit. I think she wants babies in the business. Good Lord no.

                                                                                                *******

                ~~Wyatt Charles

                Friday 13th, 7:00 PM~~

Whit and her friends are all blondes. And not in a good way. All they talk about is hair, make-up, and hair and make-up on other people. I'm pretty sure if you added up all their IQs, it still wouldn't add up to mine.  

                "Wyatt, what's wrong," Lilly, one of Whit's cronies, asked.

                "Huh? Oh, nothing," I replied. It's not like I didn't want to be here. It's nice to get away from everything.

                "Are you sure, Babe?" Must she call me that?

                "Yeah, I'm cool," I said. I was just ready to get there and have a little fun.

                "Well, buckle-up. We are about to land."

                Oh great, another mother.