Page 3 of Hey Girl

“Yeah, yeah. Right,” I hear the sarcasm in his voice, but thankfully, also his keys jangling. “Party last night?” I hear him ask someone in the background. “Where?”

The monster truck picks up speed and I veer right, doing a pretty bad ass tuck and roll into some bushes.

“Alright, so you were partying at that movie producer's house last night right?” Wes asks as I stand and bring the phone back to my ear, looking around for the next route to take. Probably shouldn’t stay here standing in someone’s yard.

“Oh…yeeeah!” I cheerfully remember as it all comes hurtling back to me.

“Good thing it’s near the hotel,” he scoffs. “I’m five minutes out.”

“Oh, thank you! THANK YOU! I owe you Wes! I’m the freak in the feather boa running terrified down the street, you can’t miss me!”

“Yeah, what else is new?” He hangs up and Crazy Bitch immediately starts playing again as I look for an escape. I’m not answering this time; she’s made it clear there’s no reasoning with her right now, and she’s out for blood. I find another row of bushes on the opposite side of the yard and burst through them like the Hulk, finding myself on another neighborhood street.

Crazy Bitch plays on as sprint in the opposite direction. I think Tatiana might be driving parallel to where I’m running, but no dice. The truck pulls off the side street right in front of me, cutting me off, its driver wearing a creepy wide lipstick Joker-grin on her face. I hear a three-year-old girl shrieking. Okay, that was me.

Oh no. This is it.

This is the end of Chris Richards, talented and charismatic drummer for the multiple award-winning rock band, Turn it Up. His tombstone shall read:

Found face down with sixteen-inch tire treads on his back and his drumsticks in his ass.

But just as I’m about to accept my fate, the clouds open up, and a familiar black SUV rolls up and screeches to a halt beside me.

Just as Wes, my savior, climbs out of the vehicle, two squad cars pull up on either side of Tatiana, their red and blues revolving. Several uniforms close in on the truck, and go through the motions of ordering her to exit the vehicle.

“Careful, officers!” I call out. “She’s a wrestler on Tough Bishes Live! Keep your guard up, yeah? She body slams people bigger than us for a living.”

“Chris!” Tatiana is back to the crying, her tone now defeated and desperate as her hands get cuffed behind her back. “Chris, baby, I’m your soulmate! And you’re mine, and you fucking know it! CHRIS! I loooove you!”

“I know,” I call back with a wave. “You’re going to be okay sweetie.” I give her a little head bow before hefting myself into the back of the SUV.

“Thanks, Wes,” I say as we get on the road. “You saved my ass.”

“As usual. But hey, I’m getting paid for this shit,” he returns as he reaches back and hands me a cold can of BLAST.

“Hallefuckinlujah,”! I crow as I quickly pop the tab and chug half the can. Once the taste catches up with me I abruptly pull the can away to examine it. “What in the fizzle-fuck is this?”

“It’s jalapeno candy corn,” he answers casually. God bless this man and his attention to detail like how I enjoy the most fucked-up flavors BLAST has to offer. “What do you think?”

“It’s absolutely amazing.” Where has this gloriousness been all my life? Seriously, if this flavor was a woman, I’d marry her.

“I’m happy you’re happy,” Wes sighs. “Nice top.”

I look down to see that, in my panicked hurry to get dressed, I threw on someone’s leopard print crop-top.

Huh. I might wear this on stage tonight…

Rebecca

I foundmyself dusting the artificial flowers and plastic yucca plants in my front room at two a.m. this morning because I was too nervous to sleep.Social anxiety is a real bitch.

I suffer from it even at the best of times, but I have an added justification for it on this occasion.Today, I’m not just meeting new people, which scares me rigid as a default; today, I’m meeting actual celebrities.

God, I might throw up.

One of my contacts has set me up with a really amazing opportunity, designing the new stage backgrounds and light shows for Turn It Up’s upcoming tour, and I’ll also be a part of creating their new album cover.I’ve even designed some new merch they can sell at each concert, like t-shirts and posters, just in case they’re interested. I may be petrified, but this is a huge chance for a freelancer like me, and it really sparked my creativity.I’ve spent days sketching and finalising more professional images on my computer for them to approve.

I’d be an idiot to pass it all up.

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