Crashing down around me

We have been signed for about a month and working diligently. All of us had decided to put off college for a year to play our music anyways so no one had to head off in the fall. It was September and we had almost finished our first album titled One Chance, One Try, No Regrets better get it right. (A/N NO STEALING! This name is copyrighted and mine. If you steal, I will find you. and feed you to hungry ninjas.) I smiled to myself, remembering the day we had first gone to the recording studio to meet some other Fueled By Ramen bands.

(i) We strode through the lobby, nervous as hell. We had all paid special attention to our appearances today and you could tell. Vana was living up to her stereotype in a rather ironic sense. She was decked out in a white sundress, white strappy wedges and a midnight blue bomber jacket. Her make up was light with baby pink blush and a light shimmery pink covering her eyelids. Her lips were a vibrant red, drawing the attention to the lower portion of her face and upper chest where a delicate silver chain hung with a small, moon shaped pendant.
Ferrah looked stunning in a Kelly green strapless satin baby doll dress that ended just above her knees. Her eyes were smoky and mysterious, dark greys and greens mixing on her pallid skin. Thick mascara framed her jade eyes and her lips were sealed in a slightly shimmery light pink gloss. On her fingers were a large number of rings, glittering in the light of the florescent bulb. Her feet were cased in simple yet elegant black Ruby Girl round toe pumps.
Lucyenna was gorgeous in a plain white tee shirt and a pair of super skinny extra long black jeans. They followed the curves of her legs until puckering and folding at the edge of her green edged wedges. Bracelets littered her wrists like trash at a dump. The stud in her nose was shimmering slightly under the harsh light. The make up on her face was heavy, accentuating her high cheek bones and pouty lips.
Jared was the only one who didn’t really care. He was in a simple ensemble of dark wash jeans and a purple tee shirt. We had urged him to at least make an effort but he refused as any self respecting 19 year old boy would.
My attire was only to be expected. I was decked out in a strapless red eyelet baby doll dress with a solid blue band running under the bust line and peacock purple patent leather peep toe pumps. The dress came to about five inches above my knees. My eyes were decorated in purple liner and blue eye shadow and my lips were a vibrant shade of Pucker Up Red. My ears were weighted down by my silver earrings and I had a single necklace hanging to the bottom of my collar bone. The ivy border was worn and familiar, as was the inscription I had read over and over in the past year.
We all steeled ourselves, standing up straighter and unwrinkling our dresses and clicking our heels together in a symphony of nervous habits.
“Um, Hi” We approached the receptionist of the posh office building in which the recording studio was situated.
“We’re Grace Period.” I told her, correctly interpreting her questioning glance. “We’re here to meet more FBR bands and start recording?” Vana explained, the last part of her sentence rising in pitch like that of a question even though I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be a statement.
“Right. Please follow me.” The lady stood up, straightening her fancy black skirt and suit ensemble and started off down the embellished hall.
We stumbled behind her, trying to look as if we belonged, trying to seem mature, sophisticated, ready, and not scared slash excited out of our minds. Out heels clicked as the carpeted hall gave way to hardwood floors.
“Here you are.” The receptionist said, eyeing us with distaste. She pointed us to a mahogany door, a shiny silver plaque letting us know that this was Studio 1. Another, slightly smaller, plastic sign told us that the studio was being occupied by Decaydance FBR – Grace Period.
“Lemme open it!” Jared playfully tried to push me aside. “No.” I told him. I was opening the sacred door and no one could stop me! Jared pouted like a small child being refused a cookie before dinner, looking at me with would be innocent eyes and the smile most would be fooled by. I, however, was not budging.
“Oh cry me an ocean, grab a boat and sail on.” I told him, fighting a smile as I saw him let the puppy dog pout fall and start bouncing in excitement.
I stepped ahead, and grasped the shiny medal knob in my hand, twisting it with a tone of nervous finality. This was it. There was no going back now.
The door swung open, revealing Mitch, our manager, and a couple of people I’ve never met in person but seen splashed all over MTV. Paramore lounged around on the large leather seats while Cobra Starship occupied themselves with the shiny golden and silver records hanging in frames on the wall.
“Hi.” I stepped forward, taking my spot as front man and natural leader of the band. “We’re Grace Period. My name is Violet and this is Vana, Jarred, Ferrah, and Lucyenna. I’m on bass and vocals, Vana is lead guitar, Jarred is drums, Ferrah is rhythm guitar, and Lucy is piano.” I introduced us to the stars in front of us.
“Hey.” They all waved from various points in the room, looking at us interestedly. “Panic! at the disco and The academy is… were supposed to be here too as well as A rocket to the moon but they all are busy on warped right now.” Hayley Williams from Paramore informed us, looking over our semi formal attire then down at her jeans and t-shirt. “Guess I needed to dress up.” She told us, giggling.
From there we all pretty much let loose. We talked to all the different people and got together with the other bands, talking and mixing until I was sure that we would all be the best of friends if not family. (i)

I was standing in the kitchen, my fork poised over a fresh bowl of macaroni and cheese when Brain came busting in.
“You’re going on tour.” He told me, no joking or happiness present in his voice. I had never heard him like that before and it scared me. He was supposed to be proud, supportive.
“Ye-ah. We all are. Paramore and Katy Parry and a bunch of other cool people are going to. Good Charlotte’s going, they can watch over us. Benji and Joel would never let anything happen to me. You know that.” I said, smiling innocently and popping a bite of cheesy noodle goodness into my mouth.
“You can’t go.” He told me, looking as serious as death.
“Um, yes I can Uncle Brian. Mom and dad said I could. Mom is out shopping right now. She’s really excited. I promise I’ll be safe and take my vitamins and not get onto buses with strangers. I’ll be okay Bri. I promise.” I sent him my best innocent smile, trying to reassure him and ease some of his anger and anxiety.
“You’re. Not. Going.” This time it was louder, his voice raised and pitchy, his face red and eyes set.
I was angry now. Who was he to tell me what I could or couldn’t do? What was safe or not? My mother said I could go and that was exactly what I was planning to do.
“Brian, I’m going. Mom said yes. We already have concert dates and hotels booked and our bus is almost ready. We leave in two weeks. I hope you accept it by then.”
He looked at me, pure rage on his features, obscuring the patient, loving uncle I thought I knew.
“YOU CANT GO.” He screamed at me, a vein popping out in his forehead as his face got even brighter then before.
For some reason that I couldn’t comprehend, my favorite uncle, my best friend, was turning against me in what could be the biggest chance of my life. Grace Period was going on tour whether Brian liked it or not, and I for one, couldn’t wait.
It was then that Bitchy Violet returned full force. I was belligerent, selfish, rude and insensitive. Mostly though, I was stubborn. This was my big break and if anyone tried to take it away from me they would face my wrath.
“Watch me.” I told him, smirking and swaying my hips as I sashayed out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into my bedroom, macaroni and cheese in hand.