3.3 Part One: Rising Star

      I laid in bed, curled up in a ball, crying. The empty wine bottle was on my nightstand, along with the others. A notepad with depressing poems scrawled across it was on the coffee table. I felt alone. My cell phone beeped as I rolled out of bed, changing into a sweatshirt and shorts, throwing my hair into a bed. I hadn't tried much on my looks, lately. He was gone. It didn't matter what I looked like anymore; nobody cared. My phone beeped again, persistently. Who ever was texting me obviously had something to say.

    I glanced at it. My therapist. Former therapist. It was late May; I was legal. I had completed high school and in the process of doing so, I was assigned grief counseling. An overly friendly middle aged lady with a bad dye job and too much pink blush had helped me. I wasn't depressed; not clinically. I had good days and bad days. Today wasn't a good one. 'But that doesn't mean it has to be bad! Only one person can make it good. You.' Her artificial advice rang through my brain. I hated the sessions. Once I graduated, I quit. 

     The therapist helped me secure a steal on a gorgeous home and helped me sell my parent's; it was legally mine, after all. She printed me a business cards for my new sing-o-gram business and even  helped me secure a stream of business. Apparently, I was a rather popular recommendation at the floral shops and little trinket shops.
I didn't understand why she kept texting me, though. I was rising, status wise. People where calling me a 'Talented Amateur'. I'd even released my first single, Addict.

Therapist: G, potential gig @ the park! U should try out :) And remember, happiness is a choice. If you want to be happy, push all the negativity away.

Me: Gr8...

Therapist: U will do fine :D Happiness and love is want the universe wants for you.

Me: I'll try.....but....

Therapist: What?

----

     "I told her not to text me again." I shrugged.
     "Why?!" My mother gasped. "She seemed so nice."
     "Yeah...it's just- she was so...she tried running my life. Like a..."
     "Mom."
     "Yeah." I sighed.
     "Gabby, Gabby, Gabby." She sighed, resting her head on her hand. She'd never called me Gabby before.
     "Please don't..."
     "Another nickname only a certain member of the male community can call you?"
     "Yes...."
     "G, Madame G, Gabby, Elle- did any of your boyfriends call you by your actual name?"
     "One did." I defensibly said.
    "One."
    "Mom!"
    "Just continue, sweetie."

----

     After using some choice words to tell crazy therapist hippie chicka to stop texting me 24/7, deleting her number, and blocking her I changed into some of my clothing that I loved (A couple people thought it was just to help promote my rebel Goth chick image; but it wasn't. It was me.)

----

    "Then?"
    "I'm getting there, mom. I went to the park to audition."
    "And?"
    "Well...."

----

    "Congratulations! Your audition was fabulous. You can have your big coming out show and do the first live performance of your single! And-"

----

     "You got it?"
     "Yes!" I said, smiling. "My first gig-well, first I'd show up too...after...." I remebered my failed New Year's Eve gig after....J-his death. I had coped. As I looked back on it all, so long ago, I couldn't help but feel a little sad, so long ago...but still my first love. Having that feeling that someone cares about you and loves you, even when they aren't required to, is the best in the world.

----

     "Ladies and gentleman, give it up for Madame G, preforming her new single Addict!"
     I stepped onto the stage, in my uniform. I instantly regretted it. Madame G didn't dress like a cheap bellhop. She was a star. She-I dressed like I wanted. Next performance I would. The crowd irrupted in cheers as I began strumming my guitar.

I don't love ya baby 

Oh, la di da ah  hey-ey-ey 

So go away, if I say-ay-ay

Mayb-ay-ay we could try again

Not that it'll keep us from fallin' back to the start

     I looked up, at the crowd,  after I finished singing. They where silent. I nervously took a bow and stepped off stage.

     "Madame G?" A blonde lady walked up to me.

     "Yeah?"

     "Excuse me, but your performance was- hm, great darling. Great. I was wondering if you'd like to preform at the cafe. Friday and Saturday night."

     "Of course!"

     "But, you need a new song. The crowd's heard addict. It's months old. We need new. We need fresh. Madame G: Double Feature. Two new songs in two days."

     "I think I can do that."

     "Great! And G,"

     "Yes?"

     "Maybe something less I-work-at-a-hotel. Kay?"

     "Got it." I nodded, as she walked away.

     I had a gig. Now all I had to do was write a song.

Thank you so much for 3,000 and 4,000 views! I know it's been awhile since I've posted, but life has gotten really dumb and decided to try and mess things up....I hope you guys understand. Part Two (maybe three) is coming soon. I promise, I have a little extra I think you'll enjoy for part two! Or at least, I hope you do! I worked really hard on both! =)