Glitch

Mom always says perfect practice makes you perfect after you practice the perfect amount of perfect practice. Then again, she says perfection is nonexistent. Mom's so confusing." - Elaina Jane Taylor, age 17.

The first time we tested out the holograms was when we were shooting a promo music video. Ethan had worked out this great big plan to get us on YouTube, MTV, and Much by the end of the week, and have us at a billion views, and thousands of request by the end of the month. That being said, that left us four days to learn choreography, shoot, edit, and submit it for approval.

Despite my hatred for dancing, after an incident I won't relive long enough to tell you about it, I actually had fun! Our choreographer was young and in the know about what was popular and what would catch peoples eyes... Without stripping, that is. Though it would bring in the attention we needed, I highly doubt my mother would approve in the least, much less my father.

Abbey was a pretty girl, with short brown hair tied in a high ponytail and a dancer's body. I'm sure this was part of the reason Ethan hired her. She was about his age, around 26, maybe even a little younger, and she had a tendency to smile brightly every time he entered the room. Maybe she was just a little too friendly with him. 

Anyway, moving on. With Abbey's wisdom and experience, and Laney doing all the hard, complicated, advanced stuff, we actually looked pretty good, if I do say so myself! Though I was far from graceful, I was competent enough to twist the mic stand around, dip it, bat my eyes and whip my hair around. I mean, I probably was anyway.

“Kay Kimi, going to need ya to pick up the place a little. You're falling behind!” Abbey called.

Okay, so maybe there was one tiny section where we all had to actually dance, while Laney did cartwheels and splits while jumping in the air. In theory, it was really simple! I just had to jump, spin, and do a bunch of other stuff the same way everyone else did it!

“Kimi! It's push turn! Anybody can do a push turn!”

I repeat, in theory! Because in theory, I could push the balls of my feet into the ground, and pivot myself around. In reality, I could not even do this much.

In the end, Abbey and our director both mutually agreed that I would just stand behind the mic throughout this scene. They said because they wanted to focus on me as the lead vocalist, but I'm pretty sure this was the nice way of saying I sucked. A lot.

What's pathetic was that even Angie, who broke her leg my tripping on her own cleat at soccer in the tenth grade was doing better than I was. She was up there twirling with the best of them. Well, by the not-quite-the-best-but-pretty-close of them.

“C'mon Kimi! It's easy!” Angie said brightly, as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to the other dancers. “Laney showed me, it's real easy!”

Angie wasted about an hour trying to teach me the steps, but I was just not getting it. It was then, and only then, she announced, “You're hopeless!” and agreed to go along with the new plan of putting me behind a mic.

It wasn't until the next day we actually even started filming. Kei had suggested we film the entire video with the cameras on us in the bodysuits, and then let the cameras run on the background at the same angle and location as they had been for us. Then, he'd edit them together on his computer. For once, his logic made a lot of sense, so that's what we did.

“Do you think he's just making us wear these because he's a pervert?” Angie asked as our group huddled together in the back corner of the lot.

“That might not be the only reason, but he's a teenage boy, he's got to get some enjoyment out of this.” Laney admitted with a shrug.

“True, but let's not jump on calling my cousin a perv, we've only had him around about 24 hours.” I said, trying to be the voice of reason, though this was clearly Laney's job.

Our conversation was cut short by the director yelling at us to get on set. I jumped up on my mark, a picnic table with a mic stand placed on top, and waited for the magic word--

“And, action!”

Bat eyes, sign first lyrics, tuck hair behind ear, flirt with camera more... My actions weren't really all that exciting, but once Sakura was in my place, they looked great.

My memories of actually filming the music video were faded, I really don't remember much of it. What was most vivid though, was watching it on YouTube a week later.

“All I ever really wanted was the chance to set you free tonight,” Sakura sang in my voice as the camera closed in on her tiny face in a fake, animated crowd, “To take your fears away and bring your sweet compassion into the light.”

So, maybe the song choice was a little bit cheesy, but we were seventeen and fifteen, and didn't exactly have a top of the line song writer to keep up in the right direction. Besides, back in the day, cheesy was cute, and cute, well, being cute got you places. Even if those places were Disney, they were somewhere.

After that, it cut to the scene in the backyard, where Sakura stood on a wooden table top, the other girls on a small patio just behind. That would have been the point where the song speed up, and the video   turned into a backyard party. Later on, this would break into a dance off, between Laney, as Daisy of course, and one of the young dancers Abbey brought in.

“You aren't watching this again are you?” I heard Laney ask as she sat beside me on the computer chair. It was a tight squeeze, but we were pretty much used to the limited amount of space.

I shrugged. “You're surprised?” I asked. It'd been a week since the video had been up, and I'd probably gone and watched it about 200 times at that point, and even more later one.

She just shook her head. “I guess not, I've gone over it a few times too, at least four times a day. Those hits must be piling up by now, eh? I'm sure the rest of the band have been re-watching it too.”

I nodded, smiling cheekily. “Just a little!”

She seemed confused, for some odd reasons. “How many views are there?”

“Almost 6 million.” I shrieked with the purest of joy.

“You're serious?” she asked, actually scrolling down to see the view counter. “Oh my gosh, you are! Six million people have watched this?”

I shook my head, still not losing my enthusiasm. “Nope, it's just been viewed six million times, but still! That's huge!”

“Very! Especially for a new name band, Ethan must be really pushing this.” Laney said with a smile, reading through the comments. “Saw these girls on a link my friend posted on Facebook, said he loved the blonde, so I thought I'd check 'em out. Really, I can't take my eyes off the singer, she's incredible, voice and looks,” she giggled before talking again, “Someone's got they're first fan boy.”

“Oh shut up! Let's see what else there is!” I snapped, not in a mean way, but a playful way.

“Fine, fine! Ooo, here's a good one! Maybe it's just me, or did this girls just appear out of nowhere? Still trying to figure out who they are, and how I can get a hold of the piano girl's number?”

The comments from typical teenage boys weren't the only ones there. There were comments from everyone on everything, but the typical teenage boy comments were the most fun to read.

“Does Glitch have anymore songs out? I'd actually like to see if they're just going to be a one hit wonder. Most pretty girl groups are.” Laney read aloud, and began typing a reply.

“Apparently,” she read out loud as she typed, “they're working on their first album with Rising Sun right now. Should be out pretty soon.”

“When do you think we'll have the album out by?” I asked, because honestly, I had no idea.

Laney brought up her email inbox and pulled open a message from Ethan. “It says here that we're scedgualed to record next week, Kei's starting on the album art, and probably, he thinks he can have it out and have us on tour before the middle of July. Maybe pushing it a little far, but if he can pull the strings he has, then we'll be opening for Next Generation.”

I started screaming right there. Though it wasn't a big deal to Laney, who didn't really get excited over famous people, it was a huge deal for me. Next Generation was my all time favourite band ever! They were actually the band that inspired the popish rock style that we'd taken on as our own.

It probably didn't help I was obsessed with the lead singer, Eric Burton, the most gorgeous man ever! He put that Kevin boy Laney was constantly gushing about to shame! Probably, anyway, since I'd never actually seen Kevin in person. You couldn't imagine how exciting even the thought of opening up for Next Generation was for me. Me on stage, Eric walks out, and we sing a ballad version of our only single, Tonight, gaze deeply into each other brown eyes, and fall in love! Or, he'll realize I'm a holograph and be freaked out. Hopefully though, it's exactly as I had dreamed it. It was perfect that way.

“Don't get your hopes up too high. Next Gen goes on tour the first week of August. Do you seriously think we could ever be ready by then?” Laney asked, being the stupid voice of reason again.

“Sure as heck we can! Laney, you know we can do anything! Stop being Ye of Little Faith and trust your friends and yourself a little bit! Life's more fun that way!” I encouraged, giving her a little shove, “Lighten up, won't ya?”

She shrugged, saying “I guess I could try, I mean, who's it going to hurt, right?”

“Exactly!” I chirped, “Now, should we go practice then? We are going to need some number for our show with Next Generations.”

Maybe I was being a little too confident. There was still a huge chance that Next Generation, or whoever decided on their opening act, would decide that they didn't like our music, or that we weren't good enough, or worse! Not as good as someone else!

Still I suppose being confident was better than being scared and afraid, and not practicing to the best of our abilities. That's what people look for in a performer, confidence.

“I'll call the others,” Laney said as she plucked her hand-me-down phone from her pocket, “see how fast they can get here. We really need to be prepared to wow the audience.”

“Are you sure that antique get's reception up here on the ninth floor?” I asked, only to be smacked on the arm.

“You leave Shelley out of this. She's almost a family heirloom!” Laney said, laughing.

Despite having the possibly most sucky (Or would it be suckiest?) phone on the entire planet, she could still have a good humor about it. You'd have to with a phone like Shelley. Her dad had bought it when Laney was a baby, and it had gone through both her mother and sister before getting it herself. “It's still in good condition, Elaina, you don't need to waste hundreds of dollars on a stupid Pear aPhone or whatever they're called. Do you know how many costumes that you could get with the phone from those phones!” Natalie would nag, each and every time Laney brought up buying a new, more modern and efficient phone.

I watched as Laney dialed a number on the phone, and by the sounds the keys made as she struck them in order, it was probably Mickie. You don't know girls for years and not at least remember the sound of dialing their number... Or maybe that's just me.

“It's not working, again. You have Miranda?” She asked, and rather than waiting for me to answer, began to dig through my purse and pulled out the phone herself. “I swear, one day, I'm going to be trapped in a dark alley in need of help and I can't call anyone because of this stupid--”

“Shelley again?” Mickie asked on the other end.

“Mickie! I didn't even here you pick up!”

“Of course you didn't, you were too busy ranting about that phone of yours. I don't blame you, it sucks.” Mickie said, only to make Laney wrinkle her forehead in frustration.

“Don't remind me. Do you think you could come over for another practice? Next Generation might get us to preform for them to see if they want us to open for them, and we've got to be ready!”

“Yeah, I can get there. Want me to pick up the others on my way by?”

“That'd be great! Just be here by four!”

“Four, got it! See ya in an hour!”

And with that, Laney clicked the phone shut and flopped herself down on the brown leather couch nearby. “I can't believe this is happening.”

“I know right!” I squealed, flopping down next to her. “Wouldn't your Dad be so proud right now?”

Maybe I shouldn't have said that. A lone tear rolled down Laney's pale cheek.

“It's been 4 years. He should be here for this though...”

When we were 13, Laney's father was killed in a car accident, the same accident that caused her sister to not be able to dance. Laney was the only one who was fine, and I don't think she ever got over the guilt from it.

“I know Lane, I know, but you can't let that hold you down. Like I said, he'd be so proud of you right now. I knew he expected big things from you, but I don't think even he expected you to join a band that got signed by Rising Sun. Nobody does.” I said with a smiled.. Knowing she needed it, I wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Nobody expects a lot of things that happen, Kim, it's just a fact of life.” She mumbled against my shoulder.

“I bet he's up there smiling.” I looked up for effect. “Heck, I bet he had some influence on all this. How could we have gotten this far without even a little bit of supernatural help?”

“You're probably right, I mean, that does sound like something he would do.” She wasn't crying anymore, instead, she was laughing. “You know what he once told me?”

“What?”

“Well, I was probably only six or seven at the time, because I was only a few years into both dance and guitar. He said that one day, I'd be famous, but he didn't say how. He just said he'd make sure it happened. Maybe this is his way of owning up to that promise?”

“That sounds about right.” I said. I actually believed it one hundred percent. If there was anyway Laney's father could make her smile, whether he was with her or not, I'm sure he'd do it. “I'm sure he wouldn't let 12 years of practice go to waste.”

“Fourteen.”

“Pardon?”

“I've had fourteen years practice. He started teaching me when I was three, on a little ukelele that I played like a guitar. It didn't sound right, so he moved me up to the smallest actual guitar he could find.” Finally, she was smiling brightly. I picked up her guitar, which was leaving against the arm of the couch and handed it to her. She gingerly held it in her hands, but didn't strum, or really even move.

“I'd never be able to focus on guitar for fourteen years.” I admitted. It was true, Laney once tried to teach me, and I lost interest after about four hours. Just couldn't go any longer.

“It's not so bad, once you get used to practicing. It's the same with singing. At first it's hard, because you get frustrated easily when learning something new, but after awhile, it just becomes natural, and hard to put down.” She explained.

“Singing was never hard though. It's the only thing that ever came naturally to me.” I objected. My parents had enrolled me in singing lessons at Ethan's request when I was about 8, just around the time Laney and I had become friends. My instructor called me a prodigy, just like my uncle, she said. Even as an eight year old, she was telling me I'd go places, though being that young, by going places, I thought she meant somewhere like Disney World or Canada's Wonderland, not fame and fortune.

“You just don't remember. At one point, you must have been frustrated, that's just the type of person you are.” Laney said bluntly.

Before I could saying else, the intercom buzzer began ringing wildly. I jumped up and mashed my thumb into the button to stop that obnoxious noise. “Yeah? Hello?”

“Hey Kiddo, it's Ethan, forgot the spare key in my room. Think you can buzz me in?”

Typical man. Couldn't remember where he put his own keys. I swear, Mom says Dean gets it from Dad's side of the family, but he definitely gets it from Uncle Ethan.

“Alright. Be more careful next time!”

“Yeah yeah, alright Elena stop your nagging. Now hurry up and buzz me in.”

“Maybe I don't want to!” I announced tauntingly.

“Kimberly! I have your album artwork!”

“Doors open! Hurry! Hurry man!”

I turned to go see Laney, but she was standing right behind me, nose to nose. “What's he got?” She asked, her eyes tortured with excitement.

“The album artwork! Kei must have already finished it!” I squealed and jumped up and down. “This is happening! We're seriously professionals now!”

“He works quick. We haven't even finished recording yet!” Laney said. Though her words should have been serious, she still sounded just as excited as I did.

“Who cares? We've got album artwork! Now we need to get ourselves out there...” I stopped to ponder all the crazy ideas that filled my overactive teenage mind. “OH MY GOSH! Laney, we're making a vlog!”

“A what?”

“A vlog! A video vlog! All the famous people do it! And twitter! Sakura needs her own twitter account! Quick! To my computer!” I screamed, climbing over the coffee table, the couch, and the computer chair to get to my new laptop, which sat at the far end of the main room. I could have walked around them, but I didn't. That's just the Kimi way.

I almost broke the screen off the keyboard when I flung it open, but I didn't, so I didn't stop to check it. My fingers slammed roughly against the silver keys as I typed in the letters “t-w-i-t-t-e-r”

The screen popped up and I logged out. “Laney, help me out here! I need a user name! Now!”

“I dunno, Sakura123 or something?” She suggested.

“Lame!” I said, probably yelling, but I didn't notice at the time. Once I get into my excited state, I don't realize half the things I was doing.

“Well what do you have that's better?” Laney asked in a saucy tone.

“Nothing, but still, it's lame. I need something clever, something catchy, something that makes people want to follow me and care what I say! Well, what Sakura says!” I shouted as fast as I could. It was truly a miracle that Laney actually understood what I was saying.

“Is it seriously such a big deal?” she asked.

“Yes Elaina Jane Taylor! It is such a big deal!”

“You can just change it later!”

She had a point. I could just change it later. So after that, I chose the user name Sakura, because it wasn't taken, it was simple, and I really liked the name, despite the fact Kei chose it.

Shockingly, Daisy was available too. Trust me, we were literally shocked. We both had thought there'd be a million very similar to this, but they were slim and far from one another.

We'd both decided to take it into our own hands to make accounts for Iris, Rose, Clover and Poppy. By the time we'd finished up the last account, the elevator made it's signature “bing!” and slid open.

“What took you so long?” I asked as Ethan stepped out.

“A beautiful young lady needed my assistance, and am I not a gentleman?” He asked in a fake British accent.

“No, you're the typical male, now give me those pictures!” I cried, again lunging over the chairs and tables, couch, etc. Ethan held them out for me when I got to him, and I almost tore them when I ripped them from his hands.

“They're beautiful!” I said in awe as I flipped through. The first was a lovely portrait of the girls sitting on a ivory balcony in solid white gowns, each wearing a sash in their signature colour. Sakura was the the front, lazily leaning against the support beam, an arm draping over the edge. Daisy stood on the opposite side, leaning against the rail, staring off into the distance. Both Poppy and Clover were sitting on the rail itself, resting against the other's shoulder, while Rose and Iris stood on either side. The most beautiful vines crawled around, blossoming with bright red flowers.

“So, it this the cover, or is it just one of the shots for the pages?” I asked as I analyzed the fake photograph, looking for any flaws that Kei might have made. It didn't really see any. It was nearly flawless, and I only say nearly because there was a slight chance I didn't notice something some little mistake.

“That'll be for the page Rebuilding is on. The next one should be for the cover.”

I put the rebuilding picture to the back and looked up at Laney, who was now standing over my shoulder. “You want it?”

Not even replying, she took it from the pile and plunked herself down on a seat. “It's pretty. Beautiful even. Is this really just animated?”

“Looks like it.” I replied, staring vacantly at the cover, “there's no other way he could have done this, really. I mean, they aren't real, soooo...”

Though the first picture I looked at was my favourite, the actual cover page was pretty nice, I guess. It was a typical girl group cover, but I guess in some cases, typical is good. The band all wore their signature outfits and stood with their instruments.

Sakura sat in the front this time, with her legs crossed, and an bent elbow resting on her knee, her head resting in a head. Her expression consisted of signature teasing smile, topped with raised eye brows and a mischievous glint in her eyes. Behind her were Daisy and Iris, both with a guitar clasped in their grip. Iris had Will's shy smile pressed on her lips. Daisy on the other hand, looked bright and confident, despite being so naturally withdrawn. Standing behind those two were, from left to right, were Rose, standing behind her keyboard, Poppy, leaning against her drum set, and Clover, mid “rock out,” strumming the strings as hard as she could, as if it were a guitar. Her eyes were closed tight, and she seemed to become completely lost in her bass solo.

“He did do an incredible job, Kei I mean. They're so real, it's almost as if it were an authentic photograph. He even put the photographer's name in the bottom.” Laney said as she glanced over my shoulder to look at the next picture.

“Kei's an idiot, an arse, and a brat, he's self centered, and arrogant, and self righteous and... What was I getting at?” I asked, after completely forgetting my purpose of speaking.

“I'm only assuming that you were about to say something nice about your cousin Kei, right? I mean, that is what it sounds like you're hopefully getting back.” Laney suggested.

“Right!” I cheered, “But he's a heck of a good animator! Seriously, my cousin's a genius. In that sense, anyway. He's stupid in any other way.”

Laney slapped her hand to her forehead. “Oh dear! Could you at least pretend to like your cousin? He's doing us the favour of a life time after all? You know, with turning us into rock stars with holographs and such for free?” You're more than likely to ruin this for us with an attitude like that.”

“Actually,” Ethan cut in, “he wants a five percent cut of your profit, unless you're profit takes a drastic increase, in which case he wants ten.”

“Ten?” I snapped, “He's not getting more than five!”

Kei didn't need five percent of our profit. He barely needed two. His dad was filthy rich, and one day, he'd take over the company that made his father filthy rich for himself. I mean, I don't need to sound greedy, but really, he doesn't need the money.

Then again, I couldn't expect him to work for free. I mean, seriously? What teenaged boy would work for free? Not any I knew, or know, or have ever met. We couldn't even get Dean to pick up his own dirty boxers off the floor without paying him.

“Actually, five seems fair.” I admitted, after pondering it for about ten minutes, “If our manager agrees to it. Which you do, right?” I asked, honestly hoping he'd say no.

“I actually completely agree. Five percent is more than fair.” He said brightly, knowing I was being tortured by this. I didn't really want Kei to have more than four, but it wasn't my call.

Before the conversation could continue, Mickie and the others came running from the elevator, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“We got the call!” Mickie screamed. She grabbed my by the waist, lifted me up, and spun me around in the air. For a skinny little twig, Mickie had the strangest, strongest muscles I'd ever seen. Rarely seen, but you quickly learned they were there.

“I can't believe it!” Margret cried with joy. She threw her arms around Ethan and hugged on tightly, despite his attempts to shove her off. “Thank you, thank you, thank you thank you!”

“For what?” Ethan asked, in complete confusion. He pondered it for a few moments, and then suddenly cried “Oh! I remember now!”

“What?!” Laney and I both screamed, dying with curiosity.

“My friend Robbie called me this morning. He said he wants to meet with you tomorrow, “first thing the bell strikes noon,” he said, so I'm assuming he means 12 sharp.”

“For what?!” We screamed again.

Ethan smirked. He waited, sat in silence, being tortured by the silence of my cruel uncle who simply couldn't tell us who this “Robbie” was, and why he wanted to meet with a group of teenagers girls at twelve noon.

“He's the manager of Next Generation. They loved your CD, you're meeting with the whole band tomorrow to play for them.”

And the screaming continued. But louder.