Taste of a Poison Paradise

There was absolutely no better place than where I was right now. I was buried deep underneath layers of bed sheets. I could stay atop this matress forever, especially since it was just the beginning of June and school had already ended. I'd finally graduated from high school with all of my high school credits and a few college credits. Four years of long and cruel hours and idiotic people with a few bearable kids and some wonderful friends; I had finally finished school, well for the most part. In late August I would be going to NYU for medical school, to train and become a doctor. I figured ever since I was young that I'd become a doctor and when I was rich enough to switch careers I would become an author. I felt most at peace when I was writing or doodling lyrics in my notebooks, but that wasn't going to feed my stomach nor would it pay my bills.

These thoughts constantly bothered me, especially lately. Would I ever make it on my own? I don't want to go back home as a failure, it would be absolutely mortifying. I sighed, rolling over on my stomach and pulling the sheets around my body tighter.

A shrill ringing echoed in the otherwise silent house. I squeezed the bridge of my nose in annoyance. Maybe if I stayed still it would go away. Instead, the phone began ringing and ringing even more frequently. With an annoyed huff I reached out of the covers and grabbed the telephone.

I bet it was some damn telemarketer. I think the people who lived in the apartment before me had been subscribed to a bunch of magazines and welcomed telemarketers. The next person to ask me if I wanted to buy some flowers, I would find them and carve enochian sigils into their ribs.

I sat up, the covers falling down to reveal my pajamas. I pulled my legs up and answered the phone, "Hello?" My voice was hoarse because I had just woken up but to be honest I could've cared less. I was just pissed that someone woke me up. If I needed to be woken for work or school, okay, I can be woken up. Today was Sunday, who the hell wanted to call me?

"Yes, good morning," someone answered in an even tone.

My eyebrows furrowed and I inhaled slowly. The lord was testing me - I had gotten almost no sleep, tossing and turning in my sleep and someone was calling me at 8 a.m.?

"I'm looking for a Ms. Kingsley?"

Sensing that the man on the phone wasn't just prank-calling me, I slowly rose from my bed. "That'd be me," I answered, the drowsiness slurring my words together. I hope I didn't sound drunk.

"Well, good. This is Simon Cowell."

My eyes widened comically and my sentence faltered at my lips. "I'm sorry what?" I asked just to make sure I had heard the gruff voice correctly.

"This is Simon Cowell, I'm calling regarding to your entry in our Up All Night Tour sweepstakes in the UK."

It all registered quite slowly and while everything was connecting, Simon was left waiting on the other side of the world, or well something like that.

"Are you still there Riley?"

"Yes, I'm still here," I answered softly. They didn't call every girl who lost so, could it be that...?

"Well, you've won one of the spots! Since you're already 18 you don't need any other confirmation from your parents. You'll just get the mail, tomorrow hopefully with your plane tickets and your directions to meet the other girls and I."

"Can you please hold?" I asked and before I even heard a confirmation I pressed the button and said, "Hello?"

When I heard nothing but silence in my bedroom I let out a squeal, something that I rarely did and fell back on my bed. I didn't tell anyone that I had entered in the contest so that meant that it wasn't some idiot trying to prank call me. That meant that I had won. I breathed deeply before sitting back up and ending the hold on the long-distance number.

"Hello?" I asked, wondering if he was still there.

'That sounds great!" I said, still slightly in shock.

What the hell was going on? It felt like everything was moving so fast and there wasn't a way that I could stop it!

"Just a question, when does the plane board?" I asked, biting on my lip and hoping it wasn't any time soon.

"Well there are some time differences obviously but it should be in a week."

I frowned. Would that be enough time to tell my friends, do some packing, stick in my summer reading list and tell my parents that I was leaving the country for the whole summer? It'd have to be, this was just an amazing opportunity! Not to mention, well I'd be meeting all of the boys.

"That's all right I hope? I have special plans for this tour and it should be a lot of fun!"

Oh, crap. He actually sounded, nice. He seemed nicer in person than on T.V. I suppose.

"It's perfect! Don't worry, I think I'll be able to get there just in time," I told him distractedly as I grabbed a gel pen and a blank piece of paper.

I scrawled on, 'SHOPPING LIST' and bit on the end of the pen, a nervous habit of mine. If I was going on tour, I'd have to budget so I could grab some new suitcases, I'd have to do some money transfers to get my dollars into pounds. That'd mean whatever money I decided to cut for this trip, it'd be a lesser value in pounds. Finances were bullshit. I'd probably have to find some way to keep my apartment too and pay the rent. Since I'd been saving for a long time though, it should be okay. I didn't want to take any loans just to go shopping, that would be rather silly.

"Well great, I'll hear from you in a week!" he chirped before a dial-tone rung in my ears. Did he really just hang-up on me? Well, I suppose that's Simon Cowell for you.