Hey guys, terribly sorry. I'm on vacation right now and around the East Coast looking at colleges. I've been through quite an ordeal in the past couple days (hiking two miles in the snow anyone?) Aside from this, I've been writing...a lot, which is good, but I don't have a lot of internet, which is bad. But....fresh from a Starbucks in Connecticut, here's the first chapter.
-Mia
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Keeping Hollywood: Chapter 1
You don’t know the real me; it’s impossible given the layers which this life have heaped upon me in an attempt to maintain the status quo. I arrived in Los Angeles a year and a half ago, fifteen pounds heavier and much happier. What’s that? You say I look happy? It could just be the grin that’s perpetually plastered on my face. It’s the grin you get from standing on red carpets next to rockstars who glower at the camera and think it looks “pro” or “rock and roll” or “hot.” It’s the superficial world I’m a part of, the world I’ve dragged my family into and the world it looks like I’m bound to be stuck in for at least another two years. Contracts you know?
I never planned on becoming a singer. I always wanted to do something with children, teach or do a PhD in pediatric behavioral psychology or something. I never thought I’d end up here, like this. It’s a one in a million chance, and I can’t lie and say I didn’t want it; I was over the moon when I got the call. But I guess the story doesn’t start with me. It starts with my sister, Meech.
She’s always been the spontaneous one, the one who would drag me to the mall at 1AM to get her bellybutton pierced or go to a post-midnight movie. She’s the artsy one, the one who likes photography and drawing and perpetually seems to be doodling with her head in the sky. She has real talent though. I, on the other hand, was always the one who locked herself in the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning and recorded my music in the shower on GarageBand. I played my dad’s guitar, a dinosaurian model from the 60’s when he was cool and his hair was longer than mine. He’s a lawyer now, decidedly less cool.
Meech sent the demo in. She was always the one I’d share things with and I played her a new song and then I got a call. It was a Tuesday evening in the winter and I was in my last year of high school. I was doing Psychology homework and my phone rang and I sprang up to answer it. The plastic was cool against my ear.
“Hi yes, I’m calling for uh…Aimee Fitzpatrick?” It was a man.
“Speaking, may I ask with whom this is?”
“Hi, Aimee, my name’s Mitch Loski. I’m with Sterling Records based in California and we received your demo. I’d like to make an appointment to meet you, do you have next Wednesday free?”
I stumbled into Meech’s room and collapsed across her light yellow bedspread, staring at the white ceiling fan.
“What’s up?” she asked, gathering her legs in her arms.
“Can I have that CD I burned for you a few weeks ago back?” I asked suspiciously.
“Oh, you want that CD back? I think I left it in my walkman which got stolen last week. Aims, I’m so sorry…I’ll help you burn another one though, I swear.” She looked innocent, but my sister kind of always looks like that. She has these huge brown eyes with can crack even the most incensed parent.
“Hey, isn’t that your walkman over there?” I got up and walked over to her dresser and saw her panic. She jumped up and leapt to grab it before me.
“Oh, yeah! Actually I think I left the CD in—“ I pried the cover off the CD player and I found it to be empty. “Funny story actually. Keiko and I were chasing Tibby and he grabbed it out of my hand and—“
“Wasn’t Tibby at doggy-training all last week?” Our dog was notoriously bad. He had “guarding” issues. “And wasn’t Keiko visiting her aunt in Japan?” I put my arm around her shoulder and guided my sister to her bed. “Listen Meech, I know what happened to the CD.”
“You do?’ Her eyes were huge and I could see her lip quaver.
“Yeah.”
“I’m really sorry Aim. I know you’re really private, but it was so good, and I just got really excited and sent it to a few record companies…”
“A few?” I raised my eyebrow.
“Yeah, but it’s not like they’re going to ever bother you or anything and if they do I swear I’ll be the one to tell mom and everything.” Meech looked really upset about it. “It was just a stupid idea…”
“Meech, it’s fine, seriously. I did get a call though today. From some guy named Mitch.” She raised her head from my embrace to look at me.
“You did?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“And?”
“And…how do you feel about taking a train with me to New York next Wednesday?”
