Status: Computer has went a bit kapoop at the moment. Will try to get a new chapter up really soon!!
Consider Me Destroyed
Chapter 2 - Wake Up America
[Normal/Joe's POV]
I entered the arena earlier in the day than we usually did in an attempt to get a little breathing space before our show tonight here in Tennessee, hiding under a cracked pair of jet black Ray Bans and slightly matted hair hidden shoddily beneath a grey beanie, possibly one of the worst decisions I may have made already today. I continued walking past the herds of lenses, notepads and microphones seemingly being jabbed at every opposite member of the party besides me, as I started to assume I was currently intruding on an event not finished in this place yet - oh well, just a few more steps till I reached the backstage door - and thats when I heard her: "Yeah, exactly. Its such a great honour to be asked to help out and be part of such a great cause like- JOE! Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I have to go. It was great speaking to you, thanks."
The tall girl broke off her polite conversation with the latest video camera and oversized mic to be thrust into her face for information and the recognition of getting an interview from her that day with a light handshake, as she and her little black heels came sprinting towards me, face full of excitement - what was she doing?
I began for the backstage door again... this really wasn't the place for a friendly chat, not with all the press in the country currently surrounding the place like a flock of eagles descendant on a fleshly slain lamb, ready to pick at any meat not already removed from us, but she stopped me in my spot just before the door handle could be turned to run and hide again.
"Joe!!" She beamed. "How are you?! God we haven't seen each other since before you guys went on tour, its been so long! How is everyone? How is Nick??" I glanced beyond her through the black shades, and sure enough I was right. Here came the paps. Greeeat.
"Good, we're all really good." I smiled back as calmly as I could, as six overly eager top-end reporters ran as as fast as their Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blanc's would allow them to towards us. I panicked. "Gimme your hand."
Her face faltered in confusion and she hesitated, "Why?" She asked, hand still by her side and her face flickered towards my own.
In the most reassuring voice I could muster, I replied, "Just do it, Miley. Come on."
I entered the arena earlier in the day than we usually did in an attempt to get a little breathing space before our show tonight here in Tennessee, hiding under a cracked pair of jet black Ray Bans and slightly matted hair hidden shoddily beneath a grey beanie, possibly one of the worst decisions I may have made already today. I continued walking past the herds of lenses, notepads and microphones seemingly being jabbed at every opposite member of the party besides me, as I started to assume I was currently intruding on an event not finished in this place yet - oh well, just a few more steps till I reached the backstage door - and thats when I heard her: "Yeah, exactly. Its such a great honour to be asked to help out and be part of such a great cause like- JOE! Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I have to go. It was great speaking to you, thanks."
The tall girl broke off her polite conversation with the latest video camera and oversized mic to be thrust into her face for information and the recognition of getting an interview from her that day with a light handshake, as she and her little black heels came sprinting towards me, face full of excitement - what was she doing?
I began for the backstage door again... this really wasn't the place for a friendly chat, not with all the press in the country currently surrounding the place like a flock of eagles descendant on a fleshly slain lamb, ready to pick at any meat not already removed from us, but she stopped me in my spot just before the door handle could be turned to run and hide again.
"Joe!!" She beamed. "How are you?! God we haven't seen each other since before you guys went on tour, its been so long! How is everyone? How is Nick??" I glanced beyond her through the black shades, and sure enough I was right. Here came the paps. Greeeat.
"Good, we're all really good." I smiled back as calmly as I could, as six overly eager top-end reporters ran as as fast as their Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blanc's would allow them to towards us. I panicked. "Gimme your hand."
Her face faltered in confusion and she hesitated, "Why?" She asked, hand still by her side and her face flickered towards my own.
In the most reassuring voice I could muster, I replied, "Just do it, Miley. Come on."