It was nearly nine by the time I got back to Aunt Elle's house. She was up and sitting at a table in the kitchen, typing on her laptop, her glasses perched on her nose. She looked up at me. "Kaitlyn. Well come back," she said, a small smile on her face.
Oh no. Not that smile!
I instantly got onto my knees and started grovelling. "IT'S NOT MY FAULTTT! ASK THE PEOPLE WHO KIDNAPPED ME!! THEY DID IT!!"
Yes. I have learned that dragging out your words in an attempt to whine your way out of an unfavorable situation never works, but at this point, none of that really matters, does it?
"What? I mean, come over here," Aunt Elle gestured over to the empty chair beside her, "I want to show you something,"
I shakily complied. I mean, if I don't, I swear, she's gonna throw me out. She's very very very deadly when she's pissed off. Once, when she visited us in Boston, she made this cab driver so scared 'till he ran off crying, not bothering to take his car with him, because he was thirty minutes late picking her up from the airport.
Anyways. Back to my execution.
I pulled the chair and placed it as far as possible from Aunt Elle. She looked up at me and pointed at her laptop screen. "Do you know who that is?"
I sat down, looking at her quizzically. "What's up?"
Aunt Elle gestured at her laptop, and my eyeballs nearly popped out and rolled onto the floor when I saw what she wanted me to look at.
The familiar faces of the five fresh-faced teenagers of the exclusive Sandfields Academy were there of course; every single adoring female fan screaming and fainting at the sight of them. But as the last person to come on stage, the lead singer, guitarist and leader of the band, Jayden Stanford greeted the ecstatic crowd, no one expected the seventeen-year-old to make a shocking announcement.
"Today, we have a new addition!" screamed Jayden, "Please welcome the Lightning Kitty!"
A young lady, possibly a teenager, came out from the back of the stage, wearing a tacky yet mysterious black cat eye mask with the band's logo on it; a lightning bolt.
Some were outraged with the new addition, who could possibly ruin the band's popularity, but some were curious. As the band started their rendition of Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore though, everyone was blown away. The cat-girl had amazing stage presence, and her voice was breathtaking. The whole crowd fell in love with her voice and mysterious charm. Which brings up the current most popular question on the local and cyber news right now: Who exactly is the Lightning Kitty?
Whoa. I never expected that kind of thing. I mean, I guess the crowd did love me, but I never expected to be the internet's most hottest topic of the now.
I nearly had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the song, but I had simply shut my eyes and continued singing. The band's playing was so loud, that I couldn't hear the crowd. Jay had sung along with me, in a duet. I never expected a megalomaniac like him to have such an awesome voice. It was a surreal moment, when our voices harmonized and molded together, producing a sweet-sounding melody.
Please don't tell him I said that.
So, in conclusion, I am NOT telling any of those newshounds that I'm the Lightning Kitty. Or whatever crappy name they came up with, thanks to Jay's ingenius-not idea of giving me a cat mask.
"Kaitlyn, I know that's you," Aunt Elle looked at me. "I've known you since you were a baby. You can sing,"
O-kay. Time to lie. BIG TIME. I don't care if my teeth fall out or whether snakes will crawl out of my throat from the pits of my stomach. Those options are better than being shown to the pits of Hell by my aunt.
"What? Of course not! I don't hang out with guys like..." I glanced at the picture of my band-mates for emphasis, "…them."
Okay! Cue the innocent smile!
I smiled innocently at my aunt, who just looked at me with a disbelieving look. "Kaitlyn, next time you try to lie, maybe try changing your clothes first?"
Oops. I forgot about those.
Darn it.
This is a time where I should start to resent Chace again, fashion genius or not.
"Er...you're not gonna kill me, are you?" I asked her tentatively. "If you want, I'll resign. Leave. Storm out. Whatever term they use for singers who quit."
Aunt Elle just stared at me for a while, before breaking into a wide grin and throwing her arms around me. "Oh Katy!! You're singing again!" she exclaimed. She sounded like she was literally choking on her emotions.
I'd say menopause, but it's highly unlikely for a woman her age.
Well, I hope she doesn't choke and die. I don't want to disrupt my parents' vacays, nor do I want to end up with some stuffy ol' uncle, who lives in a creepy old manor in the middle of nowhere and has eldritch hobbies that involve tarantulas and pythons, that I have never known about until my parents tell me.
I laughed nervously. "I don't really wanna talk about what happened a few years ago, so yeah..." I mumbled, "I only wore that mask because I still have this thing for performing in front of big crowds. I promised Jay that I'd try, so I did,"
I heard sniffling. Oh god. I don't want to end up all night comforting emotional women when I'm supposed to be doing my homework!
"Aunt Elle! Don't cry! It's no big deal, really!" I thrust a box of Kleenex towards her; a lame attempt at comforting. I'm no good at these kind of things.
Aunt Elle took the box and noisily blew her nose into a tissue. "It's just that, I missed hearing your voice ever since-,"
"Remember what I said? I don't really want to talk about it," I cut her off, "Well, I gotta go now, I have lots of HW to do,"
I quickly stood up from the chair and ran upstairs, leaving my aunt to cry alone with the companionship of her Dell laptop.
Yes, I'm a heartless niece. I know.
I tiptoed past Genevieve's room, the soft thudding of my boots barely audible. I do not need to deal with annoying thirteen-year-old brats right now. I was definitely ready to plotz after a long day.
There's my door! Nearly there...
"Kaitlyn!" a sharp and commanding, yet squeaky voice said.
No plotzing now. Boo hoo.
"Yes, brat?" I asked pleasantly, turning around to face the newly teenaged menace, also known as Genevieve I am Princess Barbie in the Flesh Except Without the Blonde Hair Hunter.
"Where were you? You were supposed to wait for me after school!" she demanded angrily, eyes flashing angrily.
Genevieve looks a little like me, except that her eyes are a shade lighter than mine, and while her hair mirrors my auburn locks, it's longer. She's a little on the short side, despite the fact that she's a dancer and she's currently trying to pontificate all her sentences, because 'that's what madame says I should do in order to be the best ballerina there is'.
Oh. I should mention that she's one of those rare people who actually pick up ballet as a childhood activity and intends to go pro when she's older.
I shrugged at her accusation. "If I remembered correctly, you didn't say anything. You were too busy primping and preening yourself in front of the mirror before school when I left," I said with a matter-of-fact tone, "And I'm seventeen. I have friends to hang out with,"
Genevieve rolled her eyes like the Barbie brat she is. "Whatev."
Whatev? I wonder which senior bimbo did she pick that up from?
"You can't have friends." she reasoned, "Because it's the first day of school for you, plus, no one wants to be friends with people who dye their hair in absurd colours and wear high-tops instead of the issued pair of shoes,"
I don't like her. I really don't. I want to strangle that neck of hers now.
"F-Y-I, I can dress anyhow I like, and good news!: I have friends already. Six of them," I stood up straighter to tower over her. She has the Napoleon Complex, you know. Very sensitive. "And now, if you could excuse me from your grandiloquence on how absurdly weird I am, I will be retreating to my chambers for now to do my homework, Your Royal Pain-in-the-ass,"
I snuck into my room as I heard Genevieve whine to my aunt. "AUNT ELLEEE!!! KAITLYN INSULTED MEEEEE!"
I did manage to finish everything before midnight, but I had to run to school in order to not be late again. Genevieve purposely forgot to wake me up, and I'm so going to get back at her tomorrow when it's my turn. I was busy looking through my bag for my schedule for the first period after homeroom as I ran, when I crashed into an unidentified object. Or rather, an unidentified person, who groaned as we collided onto the concrete pavement.
I found myself on top of none other than...
Jay? Nope, not today, thank God.
It was better, but still bad.
Wanna know?
You seriously want to?
Okay, so the person who is currently probably suffocating under my weight is Leon Alexander, or as I like to call him, Leo the Playboy.
"Kaitlyn?" Leo asked, a pained tone in his voice, "I'd love to stay like this all day, but it's not exactly a good time for me right now,"
I can't believe it. God hates me. Yesterday, it was Jay's guitar. Today, it's Leo himself. Who next? Jordan?
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I apologized frantically as I jumped up from Leo.
Leo stood up, dusting his blazer jacket, and took my hand in his. "Well, it's no problem, my dear," he said flirtatiously, "After all, I'd say that the heavens have blessed me to have such an encounter with you," He kissed my hand.
Oh. My. Effin'. God.
My cheeks heated up as Leo's lips lingered on my hand as he looked up at me with a questioning look. I hastily drew back my hand and told myself to calm down.
It didn't work, though.
I screamed. Again.
I don't get it. I should be used to having Leo do this to me, since he's done countless of flirting tactics on me since yesterday morning till I had to go home. And not only me, too, he was on full-womanize mode after our set last night, but of course, every single female excluding me lapped up his attention readily.
I think I'm gonna start developing an obsessive compulsive disorder if Leo doesn't stop contaminating parts of me with his lips or hands. I took out my hand sanitizer and started rubbing my hands with it like a psycho.
"Oh? Sanitizing your fair hands?" Leo asked, a lazy grin stretched on his godly face. He loped easily alongside me as I scurried to school.
I made an impatient noise. "My hands are not fair. They're tan. I happened to get a nice one at the beach last summer,"
Goddammit. I just said the wrong thing.
"Fair as in beautiful, but the beach?" Leo queried, "I should've gone to a beach near Boston then. I might've had a chance to see more of your fair virgin skin,"
Ew ew ew. He is SO perverted.
"Don't you think of anything other than girls?" I complained as we passed through the iron-wrought gates of the school. I'm beginning to think that boys really do think with their you-know and not their brains.
Leo tilted his head as he seemed to contemplate the question. "Hmm...I do think of my future sometimes, and maybe those who are important to me,"
We stopped in front of the doors. "You mean the other guys?"
"Of course," Leo winked as he pushed the doors open, "And of course, 'specially you, my love,"
"Can it, Romeo," I growled as I pushed the doors open, scowling.
"Hey, kitty!"
Oh, not another one. Jay's words last night had repeated over and over again in my mind, as if someone had put it on loop. It was rather surprising, because it was very unexpected to hear something like that from him.
"What do you want, Jay?" I asked, annoyed as I started walking towards my homeroom class. I swear, I could feel all eyeballs rolling towards the both of us.
Jay caught up with me, smiling smugly as he dangerously twirled his PDA with his left hand with easy expertise. "Did ya check the Internet news today?"
"Jay, I saw it yesterday,"
Jay chuckled. "Whoa. You must be really good then, right, kitty?"
I shrugged carelessly. "I was halfway towards a panic attack. If it weren't for the stupid mask you gave me, I would've fainted a few bars into the song," I confessed grudgingly, "So thanks,"
"What's that?" Jay asked, pretending to be deaf to my gratitude. "Could you repeat that again? I'm afraid that amplifiers turned up to loud volumes have taken a toll on my eardrums,"
"I said, THANK YOU for HELPING ME," I said slowly and deliberately loudly, causing more people to stare at us. A number of pairs of eyes narrowed suspiciously; some widened in unadulterated glee. I could see some hunched over their phones, probably spinning tales of untruth extrapolated from my words to Jay.
Why do I feel like I'm on the set of Gossip Girl?
Jay tossed his head back in obvious pride. "Well, I guess I was pretty clever if you say so,"
Well he's a modest one. "Hey, kitty, follow me to the music department for a while, will you? I'd like to put our names in for the band to play at the Winter Dance,"
"Names as in our names or the band?"
"Band, of course. We don't want to expose you, now would we?" he winked at me.
Yeah. Sure. Like that cryptic wink is going to be any form of reassurance.
We went through two huge glass doors, and a light strain of classical music was playing over in the piped speakers. (Elevator music, anyone?) Two ladies were seated behind a desk, and an oddly familiar blond guy with his back turned onto us stood in front of the desk, and as we got closer, he seemed to be flirting with them, because both their faces had a vibrant shade of red.
I have a dark sense of foreboding here.
One of the secretaries happened to look up and see the both of us. She hastened to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose and adapted an expression of professionalism. "How may I help the both of you?" she asked coolly.
Instead of replying, Jay turned to the blond guy. "Hey, Leo! Where are the others?" he asked, lightly punching Leo's shoulder in a greeting.
Leo turned to us, a suavely sadistic smile on his face. Should I shudder or swoon? "I told them to go ahead, of course. The two of us can handle the submission-," he turned to the other secretary, "-right, Ms. Reynolds? By the way, have I mentioned how that dress perfectly comments the colour of your eyes?"
Ms. Reynolds blushed and giggled girlishly while she nodded. Ugh. Hormonal seventeen-year-olds are dangerous, I tell you. Especially ones with foreign accents and cocky smirks that can turn your knees to jelly and elevate your heart rate.
The other secretary, Ms. Smith, as her nameplate said, kept casting glances over at Leo while she talked to us. I don't mean to sound rude, but I wonder if she's a pedophile? Should I ask her? "Jayden Stanford, right? And what's your name?" she turned to me.
"Hunter," I grinned, "Kaitlyn Hunter," I felt rather classy and cool. I've always wanted to do that. You know, like, 'Bond. James Bond.'
Only I don't do something as cool as question terrorists, flipping cards in a casino to the tune of six million dollars, or have hot babes fluttering all around me, but details, details.
Besides, I have got to be thankful for the last one. Nobody except Bond girls make you feel inferior to their godly species. I simply refuse to accept that there are women out there who look good, have a brain, and get to handle all the coolest weapons in the world adeptly while still looking like a billion dollars. Where is the justice? I want to learn how to handle weapons too! They would sure come in useful in the presence of certain rock band members.
Hint Jay. Hint Leo.
"Next you'll be saying your codename's 007," Jay commented.
Hey. He actually got my reference to James Bond! No one's done that before. That's odd.
"I was playing around with the numbers 007.5. You know, like a newly improved version of 007,"
Ms. Smith cleared the throat. Oops. "The head of department will see you shortly after his meeting with-,"
"Lucifer," a cold voice finished.
A meeting with Disney's Cinderella's evil stepmother's cat? The fat and oddly green-furred one? The Disney's Cheshire Cat's evil, but no less diabolical, fraternal twin? Or maybe they were from the same litter. Who knows?
I watched Jay's face turn black in a matter of few seconds. That's strange. What's the connection between a cartoon cat and an amateur rock band leader?
"Stryker," he spat out at the person who had finished Ms. Smith's words.
I looked up from Jay to see this uber tall dude with a line of steel piercings in his left ear and short, spiky blond hair. A shiver ran up my spine as I noticed a tiny skull tattoo on his exposed collarbone. That's creepy.
The guy seemed to notice me, because he turned his eyes away from Jay and pierced directly into mine. His eyes were a steely gray, matched with the studs in his ear. "So. You're the new girl who's been hanging with the Lightning Babies, huh?"
The Lightning Babies? Once upon a time, I would've laughed along with the scary punk dude, but now I'm part of them, and they're not so bad once you get to know them over free sushi. They're a friendly bunch, if not psychotic.
"It's the Lightning Devils," I corrected, ignoring the wobbly feeling in my knees. You know Sephiroth from Final Fantasy Seven? I had a hard time playing against him because he was had this scary - albeit not real, but details don't matter - presence which stemmed from my television and dominated the entire room.
Goth-Boy gives off the same vibes as the one-winged angel. No shit.
"Oopsie," the goth said, grinning maliciously, "So, what's your name? You must know me of course, I'm the real up-and-coming artist around here. It's Dash Stryker,"
The real up-and-coming artist? Wait. I thought that was the Lightning Devils.
"Kaitlyn Hunter," I said boldly. I tell you, it ain't easy to stand up to a guy who towers eight inches above you while he looks so freaking scary. Wasn't playing to defeat Sephiroth supposed to be image training for potential real-life villains?
"I must ask you this, what is a girl like you doing hanging out with a bunch of sissies?" Dash asked, ignoring Jay's glowering presence, "Because the sorry excuse of a band isn't much of a band. It's more like America's Next Top Male Model, if you ask me,"
"I just happen to be friends with their new manager,"
He narrowed his cold eyes. "You don't happen to be the Lightning Kitty girl, do you?"
I was caught off-guard as he said it. I never expected him to know about the Lightning Kitty, since he hates the Devils so much, but I guess I never expected to be the most Googled of the now either.
"O-of course not, do I look like I can sing?" I waved a hand in front of me. I'm not really sure how the way I look will prove my point, but the wave of the vague hand thing always works, right? "If you're thinking about the way Stanford calls me kitty, I'll have you know that he probably calls everyone kitty,"
Dash pointed over at Jay, who had gone to the head's office. Traitor. "Does that guy look like he can lead a band?"
Dude has a point. Jay doesn't look like a leader of a band, much less a leader of a group of chipmunks. He looks more like a guy who has a harem of girls clinging onto his legs twenty-four-seven, and possibly, the hormonally-imbalanced people as well. Look what effect Leo had on Chace. But Leo's hotter than Jay is in the looks department, as well as the flirting department. But maybe some girls prefer the bad-boy American mojo rather than good ol' British suaveness.
I digress. The attractiveness of Jay and Leo, of all things. I'm so ashamed with myself.
"Never mind your answer," Dash said, sounding impatient as he leaned towards me, "I'm curious, though. What do you mean to that guy if he's with you nearly every time a fellow student sees the two of you? I'll have you know that Sandfields Academy is home to a rather big nest of gossips."
Dash did the exact same thing that Leo did to me when he first introduced himself to me, but this time, I felt more paralyzed-scared rather than paralyzed-surprised. He trailed his cold fingers down the side of my face, and I noticed that his nails were painted black, like the rest of his clothes. Everything he wore was black, through and through. He was dressed to the style of visual-punk-goth-emo-*insert colourful music genre here* theme.
He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my face. I wasn't even remotely attracted to him, even though that he was just about as good-looking as Jay, but maybe it was his eldritchness and clothes that chilled the hotness factor down to level sub-zero. Despite that fact, my heart was still racing, faster than the normal speed.
I may have to start considering my Christianity and turn into an Atheist. God doesn't love me at all.
Oh no. Not that smile!
I instantly got onto my knees and started grovelling. "IT'S NOT MY FAULTTT! ASK THE PEOPLE WHO KIDNAPPED ME!! THEY DID IT!!"
Yes. I have learned that dragging out your words in an attempt to whine your way out of an unfavorable situation never works, but at this point, none of that really matters, does it?
"What? I mean, come over here," Aunt Elle gestured over to the empty chair beside her, "I want to show you something,"
I shakily complied. I mean, if I don't, I swear, she's gonna throw me out. She's very very very deadly when she's pissed off. Once, when she visited us in Boston, she made this cab driver so scared 'till he ran off crying, not bothering to take his car with him, because he was thirty minutes late picking her up from the airport.
Anyways. Back to my execution.
I pulled the chair and placed it as far as possible from Aunt Elle. She looked up at me and pointed at her laptop screen. "Do you know who that is?"
I sat down, looking at her quizzically. "What's up?"
Aunt Elle gestured at her laptop, and my eyeballs nearly popped out and rolled onto the floor when I saw what she wanted me to look at.
MYSTERIOUS GIRL IN CAT MASK
Today, the hottest event of the normally chilly September month went even more fiery as the ever-popular and home-grown Lightning Devils made an appearance on stage as contenders of the Amateur Rock Bands Contest. They are said to be among the ranks of the world's most prominent bands of the now.The familiar faces of the five fresh-faced teenagers of the exclusive Sandfields Academy were there of course; every single adoring female fan screaming and fainting at the sight of them. But as the last person to come on stage, the lead singer, guitarist and leader of the band, Jayden Stanford greeted the ecstatic crowd, no one expected the seventeen-year-old to make a shocking announcement.
"Today, we have a new addition!" screamed Jayden, "Please welcome the Lightning Kitty!"
A young lady, possibly a teenager, came out from the back of the stage, wearing a tacky yet mysterious black cat eye mask with the band's logo on it; a lightning bolt.
Some were outraged with the new addition, who could possibly ruin the band's popularity, but some were curious. As the band started their rendition of Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore though, everyone was blown away. The cat-girl had amazing stage presence, and her voice was breathtaking. The whole crowd fell in love with her voice and mysterious charm. Which brings up the current most popular question on the local and cyber news right now: Who exactly is the Lightning Kitty?
Whoa. I never expected that kind of thing. I mean, I guess the crowd did love me, but I never expected to be the internet's most hottest topic of the now.
I nearly had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the song, but I had simply shut my eyes and continued singing. The band's playing was so loud, that I couldn't hear the crowd. Jay had sung along with me, in a duet. I never expected a megalomaniac like him to have such an awesome voice. It was a surreal moment, when our voices harmonized and molded together, producing a sweet-sounding melody.
Please don't tell him I said that.
So, in conclusion, I am NOT telling any of those newshounds that I'm the Lightning Kitty. Or whatever crappy name they came up with, thanks to Jay's ingenius-not idea of giving me a cat mask.
"Kaitlyn, I know that's you," Aunt Elle looked at me. "I've known you since you were a baby. You can sing,"
O-kay. Time to lie. BIG TIME. I don't care if my teeth fall out or whether snakes will crawl out of my throat from the pits of my stomach. Those options are better than being shown to the pits of Hell by my aunt.
"What? Of course not! I don't hang out with guys like..." I glanced at the picture of my band-mates for emphasis, "…them."
Okay! Cue the innocent smile!
I smiled innocently at my aunt, who just looked at me with a disbelieving look. "Kaitlyn, next time you try to lie, maybe try changing your clothes first?"
Oops. I forgot about those.
Darn it.
This is a time where I should start to resent Chace again, fashion genius or not.
"Er...you're not gonna kill me, are you?" I asked her tentatively. "If you want, I'll resign. Leave. Storm out. Whatever term they use for singers who quit."
Aunt Elle just stared at me for a while, before breaking into a wide grin and throwing her arms around me. "Oh Katy!! You're singing again!" she exclaimed. She sounded like she was literally choking on her emotions.
I'd say menopause, but it's highly unlikely for a woman her age.
Well, I hope she doesn't choke and die. I don't want to disrupt my parents' vacays, nor do I want to end up with some stuffy ol' uncle, who lives in a creepy old manor in the middle of nowhere and has eldritch hobbies that involve tarantulas and pythons, that I have never known about until my parents tell me.
I laughed nervously. "I don't really wanna talk about what happened a few years ago, so yeah..." I mumbled, "I only wore that mask because I still have this thing for performing in front of big crowds. I promised Jay that I'd try, so I did,"
I heard sniffling. Oh god. I don't want to end up all night comforting emotional women when I'm supposed to be doing my homework!
"Aunt Elle! Don't cry! It's no big deal, really!" I thrust a box of Kleenex towards her; a lame attempt at comforting. I'm no good at these kind of things.
Aunt Elle took the box and noisily blew her nose into a tissue. "It's just that, I missed hearing your voice ever since-,"
"Remember what I said? I don't really want to talk about it," I cut her off, "Well, I gotta go now, I have lots of HW to do,"
I quickly stood up from the chair and ran upstairs, leaving my aunt to cry alone with the companionship of her Dell laptop.
Yes, I'm a heartless niece. I know.
I tiptoed past Genevieve's room, the soft thudding of my boots barely audible. I do not need to deal with annoying thirteen-year-old brats right now. I was definitely ready to plotz after a long day.
There's my door! Nearly there...
"Kaitlyn!" a sharp and commanding, yet squeaky voice said.
No plotzing now. Boo hoo.
"Yes, brat?" I asked pleasantly, turning around to face the newly teenaged menace, also known as Genevieve I am Princess Barbie in the Flesh Except Without the Blonde Hair Hunter.
"Where were you? You were supposed to wait for me after school!" she demanded angrily, eyes flashing angrily.
Genevieve looks a little like me, except that her eyes are a shade lighter than mine, and while her hair mirrors my auburn locks, it's longer. She's a little on the short side, despite the fact that she's a dancer and she's currently trying to pontificate all her sentences, because 'that's what madame says I should do in order to be the best ballerina there is'.
Oh. I should mention that she's one of those rare people who actually pick up ballet as a childhood activity and intends to go pro when she's older.
I shrugged at her accusation. "If I remembered correctly, you didn't say anything. You were too busy primping and preening yourself in front of the mirror before school when I left," I said with a matter-of-fact tone, "And I'm seventeen. I have friends to hang out with,"
Genevieve rolled her eyes like the Barbie brat she is. "Whatev."
Whatev? I wonder which senior bimbo did she pick that up from?
"You can't have friends." she reasoned, "Because it's the first day of school for you, plus, no one wants to be friends with people who dye their hair in absurd colours and wear high-tops instead of the issued pair of shoes,"
I don't like her. I really don't. I want to strangle that neck of hers now.
"F-Y-I, I can dress anyhow I like, and good news!: I have friends already. Six of them," I stood up straighter to tower over her. She has the Napoleon Complex, you know. Very sensitive. "And now, if you could excuse me from your grandiloquence on how absurdly weird I am, I will be retreating to my chambers for now to do my homework, Your Royal Pain-in-the-ass,"
I snuck into my room as I heard Genevieve whine to my aunt. "AUNT ELLEEE!!! KAITLYN INSULTED MEEEEE!"
I did manage to finish everything before midnight, but I had to run to school in order to not be late again. Genevieve purposely forgot to wake me up, and I'm so going to get back at her tomorrow when it's my turn. I was busy looking through my bag for my schedule for the first period after homeroom as I ran, when I crashed into an unidentified object. Or rather, an unidentified person, who groaned as we collided onto the concrete pavement.
I found myself on top of none other than...
Jay? Nope, not today, thank God.
It was better, but still bad.
Wanna know?
You seriously want to?
Okay, so the person who is currently probably suffocating under my weight is Leon Alexander, or as I like to call him, Leo the Playboy.
"Kaitlyn?" Leo asked, a pained tone in his voice, "I'd love to stay like this all day, but it's not exactly a good time for me right now,"
I can't believe it. God hates me. Yesterday, it was Jay's guitar. Today, it's Leo himself. Who next? Jordan?
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I apologized frantically as I jumped up from Leo.
Leo stood up, dusting his blazer jacket, and took my hand in his. "Well, it's no problem, my dear," he said flirtatiously, "After all, I'd say that the heavens have blessed me to have such an encounter with you," He kissed my hand.
Oh. My. Effin'. God.
My cheeks heated up as Leo's lips lingered on my hand as he looked up at me with a questioning look. I hastily drew back my hand and told myself to calm down.
It didn't work, though.
I screamed. Again.
I don't get it. I should be used to having Leo do this to me, since he's done countless of flirting tactics on me since yesterday morning till I had to go home. And not only me, too, he was on full-womanize mode after our set last night, but of course, every single female excluding me lapped up his attention readily.
I think I'm gonna start developing an obsessive compulsive disorder if Leo doesn't stop contaminating parts of me with his lips or hands. I took out my hand sanitizer and started rubbing my hands with it like a psycho.
"Oh? Sanitizing your fair hands?" Leo asked, a lazy grin stretched on his godly face. He loped easily alongside me as I scurried to school.
I made an impatient noise. "My hands are not fair. They're tan. I happened to get a nice one at the beach last summer,"
Goddammit. I just said the wrong thing.
"Fair as in beautiful, but the beach?" Leo queried, "I should've gone to a beach near Boston then. I might've had a chance to see more of your fair virgin skin,"
Ew ew ew. He is SO perverted.
"Don't you think of anything other than girls?" I complained as we passed through the iron-wrought gates of the school. I'm beginning to think that boys really do think with their you-know and not their brains.
Leo tilted his head as he seemed to contemplate the question. "Hmm...I do think of my future sometimes, and maybe those who are important to me,"
We stopped in front of the doors. "You mean the other guys?"
"Of course," Leo winked as he pushed the doors open, "And of course, 'specially you, my love,"
"Can it, Romeo," I growled as I pushed the doors open, scowling.
"Hey, kitty!"
Oh, not another one. Jay's words last night had repeated over and over again in my mind, as if someone had put it on loop. It was rather surprising, because it was very unexpected to hear something like that from him.
"What do you want, Jay?" I asked, annoyed as I started walking towards my homeroom class. I swear, I could feel all eyeballs rolling towards the both of us.
Jay caught up with me, smiling smugly as he dangerously twirled his PDA with his left hand with easy expertise. "Did ya check the Internet news today?"
"Jay, I saw it yesterday,"
Jay chuckled. "Whoa. You must be really good then, right, kitty?"
I shrugged carelessly. "I was halfway towards a panic attack. If it weren't for the stupid mask you gave me, I would've fainted a few bars into the song," I confessed grudgingly, "So thanks,"
"What's that?" Jay asked, pretending to be deaf to my gratitude. "Could you repeat that again? I'm afraid that amplifiers turned up to loud volumes have taken a toll on my eardrums,"
"I said, THANK YOU for HELPING ME," I said slowly and deliberately loudly, causing more people to stare at us. A number of pairs of eyes narrowed suspiciously; some widened in unadulterated glee. I could see some hunched over their phones, probably spinning tales of untruth extrapolated from my words to Jay.
Why do I feel like I'm on the set of Gossip Girl?
Jay tossed his head back in obvious pride. "Well, I guess I was pretty clever if you say so,"
Well he's a modest one. "Hey, kitty, follow me to the music department for a while, will you? I'd like to put our names in for the band to play at the Winter Dance,"
"Names as in our names or the band?"
"Band, of course. We don't want to expose you, now would we?" he winked at me.
Yeah. Sure. Like that cryptic wink is going to be any form of reassurance.
We went through two huge glass doors, and a light strain of classical music was playing over in the piped speakers. (Elevator music, anyone?) Two ladies were seated behind a desk, and an oddly familiar blond guy with his back turned onto us stood in front of the desk, and as we got closer, he seemed to be flirting with them, because both their faces had a vibrant shade of red.
I have a dark sense of foreboding here.
One of the secretaries happened to look up and see the both of us. She hastened to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose and adapted an expression of professionalism. "How may I help the both of you?" she asked coolly.
Instead of replying, Jay turned to the blond guy. "Hey, Leo! Where are the others?" he asked, lightly punching Leo's shoulder in a greeting.
Leo turned to us, a suavely sadistic smile on his face. Should I shudder or swoon? "I told them to go ahead, of course. The two of us can handle the submission-," he turned to the other secretary, "-right, Ms. Reynolds? By the way, have I mentioned how that dress perfectly comments the colour of your eyes?"
Ms. Reynolds blushed and giggled girlishly while she nodded. Ugh. Hormonal seventeen-year-olds are dangerous, I tell you. Especially ones with foreign accents and cocky smirks that can turn your knees to jelly and elevate your heart rate.
The other secretary, Ms. Smith, as her nameplate said, kept casting glances over at Leo while she talked to us. I don't mean to sound rude, but I wonder if she's a pedophile? Should I ask her? "Jayden Stanford, right? And what's your name?" she turned to me.
"Hunter," I grinned, "Kaitlyn Hunter," I felt rather classy and cool. I've always wanted to do that. You know, like, 'Bond. James Bond.'
Only I don't do something as cool as question terrorists, flipping cards in a casino to the tune of six million dollars, or have hot babes fluttering all around me, but details, details.
Besides, I have got to be thankful for the last one. Nobody except Bond girls make you feel inferior to their godly species. I simply refuse to accept that there are women out there who look good, have a brain, and get to handle all the coolest weapons in the world adeptly while still looking like a billion dollars. Where is the justice? I want to learn how to handle weapons too! They would sure come in useful in the presence of certain rock band members.
Hint Jay. Hint Leo.
"Next you'll be saying your codename's 007," Jay commented.
Hey. He actually got my reference to James Bond! No one's done that before. That's odd.
"I was playing around with the numbers 007.5. You know, like a newly improved version of 007,"
Ms. Smith cleared the throat. Oops. "The head of department will see you shortly after his meeting with-,"
"Lucifer," a cold voice finished.
A meeting with Disney's Cinderella's evil stepmother's cat? The fat and oddly green-furred one? The Disney's Cheshire Cat's evil, but no less diabolical, fraternal twin? Or maybe they were from the same litter. Who knows?
I watched Jay's face turn black in a matter of few seconds. That's strange. What's the connection between a cartoon cat and an amateur rock band leader?
"Stryker," he spat out at the person who had finished Ms. Smith's words.
I looked up from Jay to see this uber tall dude with a line of steel piercings in his left ear and short, spiky blond hair. A shiver ran up my spine as I noticed a tiny skull tattoo on his exposed collarbone. That's creepy.
The guy seemed to notice me, because he turned his eyes away from Jay and pierced directly into mine. His eyes were a steely gray, matched with the studs in his ear. "So. You're the new girl who's been hanging with the Lightning Babies, huh?"
The Lightning Babies? Once upon a time, I would've laughed along with the scary punk dude, but now I'm part of them, and they're not so bad once you get to know them over free sushi. They're a friendly bunch, if not psychotic.
"It's the Lightning Devils," I corrected, ignoring the wobbly feeling in my knees. You know Sephiroth from Final Fantasy Seven? I had a hard time playing against him because he was had this scary - albeit not real, but details don't matter - presence which stemmed from my television and dominated the entire room.
Goth-Boy gives off the same vibes as the one-winged angel. No shit.
"Oopsie," the goth said, grinning maliciously, "So, what's your name? You must know me of course, I'm the real up-and-coming artist around here. It's Dash Stryker,"
The real up-and-coming artist? Wait. I thought that was the Lightning Devils.
"Kaitlyn Hunter," I said boldly. I tell you, it ain't easy to stand up to a guy who towers eight inches above you while he looks so freaking scary. Wasn't playing to defeat Sephiroth supposed to be image training for potential real-life villains?
"I must ask you this, what is a girl like you doing hanging out with a bunch of sissies?" Dash asked, ignoring Jay's glowering presence, "Because the sorry excuse of a band isn't much of a band. It's more like America's Next Top Male Model, if you ask me,"
"I just happen to be friends with their new manager,"
He narrowed his cold eyes. "You don't happen to be the Lightning Kitty girl, do you?"
I was caught off-guard as he said it. I never expected him to know about the Lightning Kitty, since he hates the Devils so much, but I guess I never expected to be the most Googled of the now either.
"O-of course not, do I look like I can sing?" I waved a hand in front of me. I'm not really sure how the way I look will prove my point, but the wave of the vague hand thing always works, right? "If you're thinking about the way Stanford calls me kitty, I'll have you know that he probably calls everyone kitty,"
Dash pointed over at Jay, who had gone to the head's office. Traitor. "Does that guy look like he can lead a band?"
Dude has a point. Jay doesn't look like a leader of a band, much less a leader of a group of chipmunks. He looks more like a guy who has a harem of girls clinging onto his legs twenty-four-seven, and possibly, the hormonally-imbalanced people as well. Look what effect Leo had on Chace. But Leo's hotter than Jay is in the looks department, as well as the flirting department. But maybe some girls prefer the bad-boy American mojo rather than good ol' British suaveness.
I digress. The attractiveness of Jay and Leo, of all things. I'm so ashamed with myself.
"Never mind your answer," Dash said, sounding impatient as he leaned towards me, "I'm curious, though. What do you mean to that guy if he's with you nearly every time a fellow student sees the two of you? I'll have you know that Sandfields Academy is home to a rather big nest of gossips."
Dash did the exact same thing that Leo did to me when he first introduced himself to me, but this time, I felt more paralyzed-scared rather than paralyzed-surprised. He trailed his cold fingers down the side of my face, and I noticed that his nails were painted black, like the rest of his clothes. Everything he wore was black, through and through. He was dressed to the style of visual-punk-goth-emo-*insert colourful music genre here* theme.
He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my face. I wasn't even remotely attracted to him, even though that he was just about as good-looking as Jay, but maybe it was his eldritchness and clothes that chilled the hotness factor down to level sub-zero. Despite that fact, my heart was still racing, faster than the normal speed.
I may have to start considering my Christianity and turn into an Atheist. God doesn't love me at all.
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