Hollywood Bound

So you know how there are those teenagers who think they can make it big? The ones that are always saying "Yeah, we rock."? Those dumbass jerks? Yeah, well hi. I am one of them.

My name? Maxx, and I am an aspiring singer. I write my own songs. I have best friends. Alina, she loves to sing sometimes, but she is way better at keeping a beat on her drums. We have two guys we love to death: Riley and Spence. They both play guitar. Riley and Spence are both more acoustic players than anything.

We have made covers of some songs. But we mostly make our own.

The bottom line? This is our bandface.com page. And we are hear to be heard, and we are ready to be discovered, just like everyone else out there. But I really think we have the chance.

Hi. We're Hollywood Bound, and we are ready to go there, and make it. You just watch. Hitting the logout button. I turned to my three close friends, "Well, you guys.. It's made."

Spence smiled, large, "Thank fucking God! I mean, seriously! Every time we have posted something, your computer screwed up and deleted it! Thank God, we can finally start uploading our music and make it big. Maybe?"

"Spence, we are only four teenagers. Plus nobody is into our kind of songs. They are all about Justin Bieber or My Chemical Romance or some of that shit. I mean, don't get me wrong. I like MCR, and JB is okay. But I mean, seriously? It is all too hyped up," my closest friend, Alina took a long drag from the cigarette she had just started.

Riley took the stick from her, with one long drag, he looked up at me. His sweet, golden curls swooped over his eyes, but their bright green was still very visible, "Maxx, listen. We want to be famous, but if we are gonna be famous, we have to change our sound."

My bottom lip jutted out. The band only started because we loved our unique sound. We had made mock music videos, and had recorded a few songs. They were all awesome. Without the half naked girls, and guys in skinny jeans with eyeliner. The songs were amazing, and fun. The videos were flirty, but not raunchy. But of course Riley hated all of it. He wanted the raunchy videos, he wanted the smutty songs. He wanted everything that other main name bands had.

"Riley... Stop being a dick. You know that Maxx loves this band. We all do. We all love it the way it is, but you. So just shut it. And let us figure out how to get discovered. Minus the whole bandpage deal," Spence was scooting himself over towards me more. His arm moved around my waist, his lips brushed my hair, "I love the bandpage. Wanna show me how to make more later?"

My eyes turned to his, their deep brown sucked me in. My bottom lip suddenly seemed tasty, "Uh, sure? Maybe we can just study tonight. I mean, for the final exams."

His eyes lit up, "Heck yeah baby doll. I'll see you tonight at seven," a small, sly wink went my way, "I gotta get going to work ya'll. See you all tomorrow."

Everyone mumbled their goodbyes, soon my whole room was having the other two follow out closely behind him. Alina had to make dinner for her younger brother, and Riley had to go talk to Snake-his dealer.

Groaning, I laid back on my bed. Looking at my walls, I began to giggle. The pictures were priceless. A couple of Alina and Riley with their giant smiles. Some with Spence and I, my favorite? The piggy back one. Then about a million of our band. Dylan had taken them. Closing my eyes, silent tears slipped down my cheeks, Dylan, why were you so freaking stupid? Do you realize how much you hurt us all? I mean, from your stupid actions. How could you! Actually, no. We can't blame you, we can only blame ourselves. Because of the stupid things we did. You know.. We're only trying to get to Hollywood because of you. But that won't happen. Not unless you send us a fucking miracle. Unless that happens we're staying here.. In Ohio.

-

"Now, if you were to read this sentence, Me gusta tocar la guitarra, mientras que mi mejor amigo canta maravillosamente. What does it say?"

His head racked for a clue, I could tell. His bottom lip was being bitten repeatedly, "Uh, my best friend is extremely gorgeous, and I want to kiss her softly?"

Heat rushed into my cheeks, "Not even close, it says: I like to play the guitar while my best friend sings beautifully."

"I like mine better," his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me in closer, "Just once. Please?"

"You know it wouldn't be right. Dylan was both our friend. It would be weird."

His lips brushed mine, my body melted. My small arms wrapped around his neck, we laid back onto the bed. The books pushed onto the ground, "I want to kiss you. This once. Please."

My mouth moved closer to his, our lips brushed. His soft lips pressed to mine, the electric shock overcame us both. Our lips were meshed together, my hands entangled into his hair. The kiss was hungry, we both wanted more. My small fists clumped around handfuls of fabric, pulling his body as close as it would go. He pulled back, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all. But this wouldn't be right. We both know what happened in this bed. I'll text you later. I gotta get going," grabbing his books, he threw a little wave at me. Tears stung my eyes.

Grabbing my pillow, I let the makeup wash onto it, Dylan, you haven't left our minds.