For You
Chapter 1: *Writing & Remembering*
(c) 2000
The N.C. Daily Dreamer
It all happened so fast. One day she was just Shelby Mariah Cholson, your usual trendy twenty year old with a dream. The next she was Shelby Mariah Cholson, female pop star, role model, and teenage sex symbol. Her single "Don't Say" was topping the charts already after only being out for a week and a half.
*Shelby*
"Ahahahahahahhhhh. Baabyy, don't sayyyy things you don't meannn. Ohhhhohhh," I sang into the microphone. I pulled the head phones from my ears and put them around the sound carrier.
"Okay. That was good, Shelby. You're done for the day," James, the sound guy, said and I walked out the the recording room.
"That was good, honey. You have a voice of an angel," Karen, my mother, congradualted smiling brightly.
"Thanks mom." I hugged her."So, tomorrow is my last recording session?"
"Yep!" James answered. "You'll be recording the eight songs you wrote."
"It's going to be a long day tomorrow! When do I have to be here?" I asked taking a seat on the tan couch in the room and reached for my navy blue backpack.
"Eight in the morning. Hold on a second." James started flipping through pages in his date book. "Tomorrow you only record six of them. Then the next the rest. Sorry about that."
"It's okay. So, mom you ready to go?" I grabbed my keys to my metallic green '99 Camaro.
"Yeah, but hun, you have to write another song for your album. I'm sorry but Tim told James you had to," my mother informed. Tim was James' boss you was helping me arrange the songs.
"Oh, it's all right. I think I have the perfect idea for one!" I smiled, but inside I hurt. The song idea was about trying to forget. I was trying to forget my friendship and love for Nick Carter. We were best friends until he went away to be in a music group. He promised he'd write and call every week. I only got one letter and two phone calls, though. Now he's adorded by many being in the Backstreet Boys. Deep down in my heart, I miss him, but I can't forget the hurt and pain I felt and still feel when I see his picture or hear a song from BSB. Don't get me wrong! I love their music, but I hate the feeling I get hearing Nick's voice even though it's so sweet and intoxicating.
"Good. Drop me off at my house, Shelby," mom replied grabbing a vanilla folder on the couch beside me.
"All righty! Bye, James!" I stood up and I walked to the door.
"Bye, Shelby and Karen." James waved as we exited the room and then the building.
~*~
"Buh bye, mom," I said as she opened the passengar door.
"Bye, sweety." She went to get out but stopped. "I almost forgot! Tonight, 7:30, we're going to meet the group you're going to be opening for at dinner at Mateno's."
I looked at the digital clock in my car. It read 2:54 p.m. Four hours of relaxation! "Okay. Who's driving?"
"A limo will pick you up at 7:15."
"A limo?" I asked in disbelif.
"Yep! Bye, Shel! Tell Alea to come, too."
"Bye!" I pulled out of my mother's driveway and beeped and waved. My next destintaion was to the house I chared with my 18 year old sister, Alea.
~*~
"Hey, Alea!" I yelled while I looked through the mail on the table. Junk, junk, bill, junk.
"Yeah?" She came strolling in from outside. She'd been swimming in the pool.
"At 7:15 a limo is going to pick us up and take us to Mateno's tonight." Alea was one of my four dancers and a back-up singer.
"Why?" Alea wondered.
"We're meeting the group I'm opening for."
"Cool! I need to get a new dress!"
"You go do that. I have a song to write by eight in the morning."
"Good luck!" she said grabbing her keys. "I'll be back in a few hours."
"Okay. Bye."
"Bye."
I grabbed my book bag and stepped outside. It wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold. It was perfect! I stepped out of my black sandels and took a seat in a lounge chair. Next, I pulled a notebook and pen from my bag. The words seemed to flow from my brain, down my arm, to my right hand, and onto the paper. All the pain I'd kept bottled up inside for seven years came pouring out and into a song. It only took me an hour and a half to write it. I didn't want to go over it and change something. If I did the song wouldn't mean anything to me. I titled it "Forgetting". That's what I wish I could do. Forget. Alea came home at 5:00 and surprised me with a dress.
"You like?" she wondered.
"I love!" I smiled holding it up to my body. It was black with rhine stones around the neck and end of the 3/4 sleeves. It went to my knees.
"Let me see your's!"
"Hold on! I got you shoes, too!" Alea handed me a box of black, strappy, open toed, platform, sandels.
"You shouldn't have!" I couldn't believe my eyes! My sister and I were getting along for once.
"If we're going to meet famous people then we NEED new things!" she told me pulling a maroon dress from a white bag and holding it up to herself.
"Yeah, I guess thanks. Your dress is beautiful!" I raved. It went to her knees also with cuffed sleeves.
"Thanks. I got shoes, too!"
"Cool!" She opened a box with maroon shoes exactly like mine.
Alea glanced at her watch. "It's 5:10, so at 6:00 I'm getting ready."
"I'll probably get ready at six, too."
"Did you get your song written yet?" Alea wondered placing her belongings in a bag and mine in another.
"Yeah," I answered softly. "It didn't take me that long."
"Can I read it?"
"You can hear it when the album comes out on June 6th," I told her grabbing my bag and started to walk up the stairs. I needed to repaint my finger and toe nails.
"I'll be the first to but it!" she grinned.
"You better be!" I joked.
"Fine, I won't!"
"Fine!" we fake fought.
"Fine!" Alea yelled up the stairs just as I shut my bedroom door. I sat the bag on the floor by the bathroom door, before I grabbed polish remover and baby blue nail polish from my bookshelf.
CHAPTER 2
MY STORIES
CHAPTER SELECTION
HOME