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“Jett, lady you are blushing, your cheeks are gonna match the streaks in your hair,” Tara teased, with a perfect piece of shrimp poked onto her fork. In agreement, Brenda giggled, currently distracted by a “special” Twitter post.
”Noway, Tara, I'm totally not blushing, this shrimp is just so spicy,” Jett lied, stuffing the shellfish into her mouth, feigning discomfort. “There's so much cilantro!” Tara chuckled, shaking her head.
”There's no point in denying you like him, Jett. Ian is dreamy! Besides...the whole world saw him kiss you on live television,” Brenda shrugged. “After you sang, 'It Must've Been Love', with his band, that was all she wrote.”
Jett continued to eat, her cheeks becoming redder with every bite. Brenda, for once, was not incorrect. After having a Royale with Cheese at Patty and Bun, she and the members of Glasgow Smiley Face returned to the hotel.
”May I walk you to your room, me California Dream?”asked Ian, after the band agreed to meet up later at the infinity edge pool on the hotel's rooftop for a 'creative smoke'. Being a gentlemen underneath all the leather, he offered Jett and arm. Smiling, Jett obliged, sliding her own arm through his. He had felt so relaxed, so at ease sharing a fat, juicy,medium-well burger with Ian and his mates. Even when she had a mayonnaise mustache from taking too eager of a bite, Ian had chuckled, wiping it off with a napkin. In Beverly Hills, she probably would have been the butt of a very perverted joke.
'She'll see I'm not so tough...Just because,I'm in love with an uptown girl...You know I've seen her in her uptown world...'
”Did'ja 'ave fun tonight?” he asked, as they walked down the hallway of The Montague of the Garden hotel. “Cuz I sure did.” Stopping in front of room 316, Jett smiled shyly, pulling her key from her bosom.
”Yeah. I really did, it was really chill,” she replied honestly, gazing into Ian's eyes. “You Scottish boys are comical.” Nodding with satisfaction, Ian placed a thumb long the corner of Jett's lipstick-eaten lips. Jett's body suddenly went limp. She could smell hints of his cologne mixed with burger grease, mustard, hash smoke, and maybe even a bit of beer was seeping through his pores. Despite the unusual culmination of aromas, Ian smelled “authentic”, something she'd never experienced at the Teen Club.
”'Chill'? I guess you can't think of a better word,” he pressed, shaping the angle of her cheekbone with his slender fingers. “Is that an American term for 'fun'?” Jett shrugged for being a complete loss of words.
”I mean..yeah it was different. We eat gourmet burgers in restaurants where the napkins have a thread count, and the burgers are so small because every girl is on a diet,” Jett explained, melting in mush from every stroke of Ian's fingertips, his turquoise eyes burning into her violet ones. “So, it's really not so relaxed. We don't have fun...we just eat.”
”Hmmm...well I'm glad me and my mates could show you the other side of life...where money is just means for getting the tings you need and not how you define life,” said Ian, his voice in the guise of a genius. He was relieved to not feel any evidence of fillers or Botox in Jett's beautiful face.
”You have a really...really, cute nose,” he said thoughtfully, tapping the tip of her aquiline nose. “It's like a little nymph.” His childlike smile made Jett giggle. No one had ever told her that before.
Ian's beauty was unlike the 'typical' standard of Beverly Hills. His cheekbones were strong, making him look exotic, and his wide, almond-shaped, cerulean eyes made him look almost cartoonish. He resembled a bad boy with a good heart and was undeniably a jokester, but it was his charm, easygoing smile, and gentle temperament that made the girls in the audience go crazy.
”Sweet Valley Girl, you are so pretty, in a scary way,” Ian continued, tracing the shape of Jett's well-arched brow. “You have the face of a perfect doll, but when you smile, it's mischievous. It makes people curious, wonderin' what the hell is on your mind. Are your lips real?”
Jett chuckled. “Yeah my lips are real... dude,you can't sing with a mouth full of Restalyne,” she joked.
”Or a mouthful of Scottish tongue, perhaps?”
Before Jett could question further, Ian's lips arrested her in a kiss that started innocent, but as Ian pressed against the softness of the beautiful lass from Beverly Hills, he wanted to taste her further, seductively lapping his tongue against her top lip. Nervous, but willing to comply, Jett opened her mouth, letting the handsome rocker engulf her as he eased her back against her hotel room door, his hands caressing at her waist.
'She's getting tired of her high class toys...And all her presents from her uptown boys,
She's got a choice...'
Startled, Jett hesitated before closing her eyes; snaking her arms around his neck, pulling even closer, sparing no space between them. Ian's tongue was laced with the flavor of beer, but his tongue and lips were magical, making Jett tingle in places only spoken of in the girls' locker room. Not thinking of Beverly Hills or the competition, she allowed her mind to go free feeling only the butterflies going wild in her belly. Ian had stolen a kiss in the rehearsal room, but now he was making a full claim.
” Shit...Jett...lass...it's gonna be hard if I ever have to say goodbye to you,” Ian spoke softly against her lips, his hands squeezing either side of her waist. “I've never met a gal like you, ever. You're fuckin' amazin'. Before you leave this country...I want to make music with you.”
Trying to catch her breath, keeping up with his kisses, Jet uttered, ”That shouldn't be so hard.” Managing to capture and suckle on his bottom lip, she made Ian moan deep, his crotch pressing closer to her belly.
”Oh...but hard...it's very hard...” Ian half-joked, sliding his hands downward until her soft behind was in his hands. Jett gasped,opening her eyes not expecting his brazen advances or a hard bump against her belly.
'Oh shit...how does he walk?'
”Lass, clearly, you misunderstood me when I said 'make music.' You were thinkin' of activities inside the rehearsal room, with the piano and the other instruments. We can still...'make music' in the rehearsal room, clothing optional, and if you want to do it on the piano, I'm all for it,” Ian explained with a salacious smile and glint in his eyes. Jett's mouth dropped open.
”Dude...like , are you saying you want to fuck me?” she asked bluntly with a raised brow. Ian shrugged, then nodded enthusiastically.
”Yeah lass...I wanna shag you, why pretend?” he replied with a wink.
”OMG!” Jett wailed, pressing her head against his chest. “Are you serious?” Laughing, relieved that she wasn't pissed, Ian kissed the three-toned blonde bombshell on the crown.
”You're such a perv,” she chuckled. “And all this time....”
”Oh, come now...lass, I've been eyeing you since the first audition. The way you walked around in those red skinny knickers and white tanktop with those fuckin' high hooker heels...are you joshin' me? What you thought was simple chic was turnin' me on. Fuck, I couldn't help but have randy thought about you. Have you seen your arse? You're hott, you're funny, you're sweet...lass I'm fallin' for you, and it's gonna suck a baboon's red ass when we have to leave this contest,” he confessed, his hands leaving her butt.
”Damn...Ian, you're being so honest right right now. You're a horny son of a bitch, but you're so honest about it,” said Jett combing wild hair away from her face. Ian, pinching the bridge of his nose groaned. His feelings were too strong to fight. Jett had been the hurricane in his quiet, little storm.
”And I know you like me, too Jett. You've just been so wrapped up in keepin' your nose clean because of all the paparazzi and shit, but you know what...you only live once and you can smash your face in the pillow to stifle your screams,” he reasoned nonchalantly, playing in her hair. “I'll be makin' love to you, but baby I'll make you scream bloody murder.”
”And I thought your confidence was your sexiest quality,” Jett mumbled, looking up at him with a smile. “Your sense of humor rivals it.” Ian couldn't help but laugh, He was shaking from a mix of excitement and fear.
”Oh you...”Ian cut off his own sentence by blessing the Sweet Valley Girl with a tender kiss, enveloping her into a strong hug.
”So..what do you think?” he asked, meeting his eyes with hers. Jett, with no verbal answer, shrugged. Ian was definitely sexy and he was a great kisser, but in all reality it was too soon to tell if her attraction to him was heavy or homesickness.
”I gotta be real, dude. I mean, yeah, I think your hot..you're beyond hott, but in order for me to give you the goods, you gotta get in my head first,” she replied. “Look, I don't get serious with the guys back home because they ...they're not real. And, you're the first real guy I met...ever. I mean right now, you smell like cologne and burger and sweat...ball sweat at that. But, I dig it. Shit's authentic.”
”Those blokes from your home are probably a bunch of pussies...who don't get pussy. And when I say 'pussy' I don't mean vagina, I mean girls. Yeah, us Scots we like to shag, but we like to get know a girl while she's standing up before we bend her over,” Ian said while stroking her cheek. “You won't be just a fuck for the night, lass. I want more than that.”
”What do you want from me, Ian?” Jett asked with a serious tone. “Just say it.”
”I fucking want you, Miss Annjenette Blalock. When you graduate, come to the UK and I'll show you the truth about me...and where I see us, where I want us,” he said earnestly. “I'm not playin' around. I need you.” Ian punctuated his statement by holding the underside of her chin with his gloved hand, making damn sure she saw the stern demeanor in his eyes. American boys payed so many games ...but this Scottish boy was showing her a man.
'He's so crass with his words, but at least he isn't being phony about what he wants,' Thought Jett sighing, before smiling. Ian was just too precious. Despite his dark, gothic look, he was precious. Ian, sensing her sudden shyness, nuzzled her nose, causing her to giggle, then surrender to a kiss.
”Ian, you freakin' suck,” she joked, biting the tip of his nose. Ian laughed, hugging her even harder.
”Well geez Switchboard...I mean....during a competition like that, you grow close to people,” said Jett, matter-a-factly. “We all rehearsed together, ate together...it was like a summer camp almost. Contestants couldn't leave the hotel without another contestant being with them...there were cameras on us constantly. Me and Ian couldn't help but to become friends.”
”Jett dear, are you sure it wasn't more than that?” asked Tara, gently wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin. Jett knew why Tara would make that insinuation, but she didn't wish to discuss it.
”It would never work, Tara. He's like...all the way over there making music on a famous label, and I'm over here still trying to find me and Gig one, ” Jett answered with a defeated look on her face. “We had fun while it lasted. I had a Royale with Cheese with a hot, Scottish rocker and it was great, over, and done.”
”But Jett, sweetness, you can't center your whole entire being around music and fashion...I do believe the reason why you got sick is because you've been burning the midnight oil, and the candle at both ends. Sometimes, you just gotta turn the lights off,” Tara expounded in her sweet, Southern Charm. “Relax a little and have fun.”
”But I've got to find me and Gig and record label,” Jett insisted. “We have to do more than just play for the Teen Club.”
Switchboard shook her head. “Jett, you really need to take a break, smell, the roses, and go out on a date...something. Even Shanelle Spencer is going out on a date, and you know how involved she gets with stuff.”
”Shanelle...has a date, get the hell outta here?” said Jett leaning back against her seat. “Who's the lucky guy? Pierce? Radley?”
”Nope...Buck Huckster,” Tara answered with a smile. “He's been tweeting about it for days. He's taking her to a restaurant in Vegas. Fifi should be doing her hair right about now.”
”Wait...Switchboard, I thought you had a thing for Buck?” asked Jett giving her friend a raised eyebrow. Quickly, Switchboard shook her head while in the midst of answering a message on WhatsApp.
”NO..hell ...No...that's gross...me and Buck are like brother and sister...well maybe stepbrother and stepsister,” she rendered, looking up momentarily. “He's been crushing on Shanelle for years; just didn't have the gonads to say anything.”
”Wow, well, if the Teen Club President can take a break, I guess I can, too,” Jet shrugged, resting her chin on her hand. “I could really use a day at Fifi's spa. I need to get some botox put in the balls of my feet.”
”My word, in your feet? What on earth does that do?” asked, Tara with a face of horror. Switchboard couldn't help but laugh. As delicate and pretty as Tara Belle was, her facial expressions were hilarious.
”I put botox in my feet so when I wear stilettos, they don't hurt as much,” Jett explained. “a lot of fashion model have started doing it. I gotta start taking care of myself better since I'm going to have more of a social life, now,” Jett vowed with a raise of her right hand.
”You may as well, Jett, seeing as Gig's got a date with Rocksi Spencer really soon,” Brenda blurted, before clapping her hand over her mouth. 'Shit!' She really needed to stop walking out of shower and “accidentally” hearing Chester's phone conversations with his friends.
”Hmm? Spencer? Isn't that Shanelle's cousin...the one with the lip ring?” asked Jett, resting her elbows on the table. “I heard she likes Pierce Thorndyke III.”
”Oh, the California heat has gotten to the poor girl's brain. Nikki tried to tell her of the stunt he pulled on her at the Spring Fling. And I may have mentioned how he can be such a lech,” Tara added, shivering. “Ugh!”
”So does Gig like her...what?” asked Jett, sounded a bit protective. Brenda shrugged. She heard a lot, but didn't hear everything.
”Gig likes that fact that she's exotic and she can play the electric guitar from what I can see. She just wants to hang out and see what Beverly Hills is like, I guess,” Brenda answered.”I'm sure she won't be a distraction...or a problem.”
Jett took not of the pointed tone when Brenda said “problem.” She and Gig had made a pact years ago that they would never date each other, as it would be a direct conflict of interest. According to Jett's father, the dynamic definitely didn't work for Sonny and Cher. However, 'Flight Risk' had become very close; so close that Gig had once shown a bit of ire when Pierce took Jett to the Snowflake Formal at the Teen Club chapter in Colorado, and Jett showed a fiercely possessive side, when a female member of an Irish rock duo called Rogue and Stout, showed even the slightest fancy to Gig.
”Problem? Noway, never. Gig is free to date whoever he likes, and I sure as hell am, too,” Jett quipped, returning her attention back to her food, wondering exactly what time it was in England.
########################################################################################## "Uptown Girl" lyrics by Billy Joel
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”I do declare, this is the best Cajun shrimp I've had in a long time,” said Tara Belle, her brown curly hair, tamed, her outfit of a lilac, jersey loose tanktop she bought in various pastel colors from H &M, dark skinny jeans, boasting her Southern-fried curves from American Apparel, and her gorgeous, rhinestone wedges were the last pair in her size from Jimmy Choo.
”From what I heard from Chester, who got the info from Rocksi, our cafeteria has hired the same catering crew who's doing the food for the luau, “ said Switchboard, looking up from her Ipad, as she finished her blog for the day. Nodding, her mouth full of shrimp, Tara inspected the rice pilaf with her fork.
”Well, I do declare...is that Jett over there in the line?” asked Tara , looking up from her delectable plate of food for the moment. “I feel like we haven't seen her in days.”
”According to her blog, 'Cool Your Jetts', she's been sick with bronchitis and catching up with schoolwork through satellite classroom,” Switchboard informed, opening a window to another website. Tara's violet eyes raised to her widow's peak. Switchboard was notorious for being nosey, hiding behind bushes, and even making up gossip just to get a bit of attention, but lately, her idle “gossip” had become more socially informative and less intrusive. Maybe it was a noted incident with a famous tabloid that tried to convince Brenda to lie about one of her friends...or maybe it was advice from an unknown “friend” that made her change her ways.
”A girl who can so easily tell lies about her friends is ultimately undate-able in the Teen Club,” an anonymous poster had commented on Switchboard's Twitter page when she made the bold choice to come clean on social media. “NO guy will ever want to date a girl who gives off the impression that she will kiss and tell. A lying mouth never gets kissed. You're not an ugly girl, Brenda, but if you continue these actions, you will forever be a minus one; not a plus one, but a minus one at all Teen Club affairs. Really think about that.”
Brenda McTech was not one of the “most-dated” girls in the Teen Club, and she wasn't much of an athlete, but Tara always thought she was pretty. Tara was disgusted by the fact Brenda was slightly an “outcast”, but Tara's French/ Cajun-Creole roots, Blanche Devereaux-like accent, banter of Bourbon Street, catfish nuggets, cornbread, and the wildness of her hair often put her in the same predicament . The pretty southern sweetheart could count on one hand how many times she was asked to a Teen Club formal, much less out for a burger at Carl Jr.s. Instead of getting depressed, she'd bake...bake and share with others, for she refused to lose her slim figure.
Tara Belle Devere, came from a long history of Southern elite. Her great-great-great paternal grandfather Pierre Conrad Devere, had been a war veteran who's family had owned a very large sugar plantation in Thibadoux, Lousiana. The sugar plantation served as the headquarters where many bakeries and restaurants would get their supply. Tara's father, Francois Didier Conrad Devere, used the previous business relationships that his forefathers had secured by opening a culinary schools, and even owning shares in ice cream franchises. It was rumored that Tara's curly hair had been a “gift” from her great grandmother who had been rumored to be an immigrant from the island of Martinique, but no one in her family would tell her for sure. Tara's mother, Jeanelle Lepore, had put her beautiful daughter in many beauty pageants as a child, made sure she was involved in every debutante activity, and saw to it that Tara was prepped to one day marry a Southern gentlemen...until her father moved them to Beverly Hills, that is.Now, she was prepped for a billionaire.
”Jett! Darlin' come sit with us!” waved Tara from the booth she shared with Switchboard. “Oh my goodness! She's gone and changed her hair, Switchboard!”
Smiling from the gourmet buffet line, her plate filled with Cajun shrimp, ahi tuna, bok choy, and rice noodles, Jett, dressed in a black, fitted corset-style tank top, slim tartan pants with a chain hanging from two belt loops, black Jeffrey Campbell boots with spikes adorning the heels, and silver hoop earrings, waved back to Tara. Switchboard, looking up momentarily, gave Jett a smile.
Annjenette “Jett” Regine Blalock, had music in her bloodline. Her father, Butler Rhett Blalock, was a lead guitarist and songwriter who wrote and played with various hard rock, metal, goth, and indie bands. Her mother, Gigi Andrewshek was an opera singer, known for her powerful, mezzo voice, and unique, Dutch-German beauty. Jett had discovered her singing voice at the age of three, and at the age of six, participated in televised talent shows. Recently, she made it to X Factor in England, but was voted to second place. Despite her not winning, Jett, not wanting to hop on the fame ride without Gig, managed to snag their duo, “Flight Risk”, the opportunity to shop their songs around on YouTube. Due to her recent brush with bronchitis, she was sidelined to write songs while catching up on school work, and simultaneously uploading new songs to Itunes for their local fans.
”I think... Jett has lost her booty,” said Tara, noticing a distinct loss of Jett's once generous behind. “But I guess when you can't swallow solid food, you can only do a liquid diet. Radley is going to be so devastated. I've seen him fall off his surfboard staring at her asscheeks in those cute, little red Gucci boyshorts she wears to the pool. ” Switchboard chuckled, her mouth filled with rice pilaf. Hearing Tara's sweet voice utter “asscheeks” was the funniest thing ever.
”Like oh em gee...Tara, Switchboard,” said Jett, making headway to their booth from the buffet line. “There's like...so much foreign food today. Cajun stuff, Asian stuff...maybe I should have been eating this while I was sick instead of the IV,” she joked, her tone raspy. “Thank goodness Fifi came to my house to get all the gunk outta my hair.”
Jett Blalock was known for having, huge, platinum blonde hair the color of Gwen Stefani's, and she often kept it styled in curls, straightened, beachy waves, braids, buns, and even a faux hawk, but her current style edged them all. Her platinum blond locks that fell to the center of her back had been highlighted with bright, cherry red, lowlighted with black, and shaved on the right side, curled in soft waves, giving it a “Bloody Romantic” touch. Jett, though, a native of Beverly Hills, got much of her inspiration for her hair and clothing from European costume history and 80's glamrock.
”Oh goodness, Jett, you shaved the side of your head?” asked Tara, sliding down the booth so Jett could sit down. Shrugging, Jett picked up a 14 kt gold fork, happy to finally be able to somewhat enjoy solid food.
”What can I say? I like, get bored easily and I can always cover it with the rest of my hair when need be,” she answered, stabbing into a piece of Cajun shrimp with a piece of tuna on top. “I'm just glad this bronchitis is almost over. Oh em gee...Switchboard, I know you've been reading my Twitter ...bronchitis freaking sucks...I wasn't able to sing, I couldn't speak to my rocker friends in England, I could only type...that's who sent me this awesome outfit; I mean. Look at how high my tits are now...and the pants are a little 'different' but they're hot, right? They sent me these cool ass cuffs, too...” Jett bubbled, showing off two black, laquer cuffs studded with diamonds and silver studs. “They are so frickin' awesome and they make noise when I move.”
”Are you speaking Glasgow Smiley Face as a band being awesome, or just Ian Meyersen, the lead singer?” Switchboard asked, adjusting the neckline of her fuschia V-neck blouse from Betsey Johnson that had a cute, matching rose on the left shoulder. Switchboard, boasting a figure of a 1940's pinup girl was very conscious of a tasteful amount of cleavage unlike Larke and Bianca, who were both famous for accidental “nipple slips”. Jett, blushing at Switchboard's insinuation, cast her winged lined eyes downward, playing with her food.
”Ian...helps me write song lyrics over Skype,” she grinned, her Ruby Woo red lips, parting into a sly grin, her tiny, diamond nose ring glimmering. She and Ian Meyersen, lead singer and guitarist from the indie Scottish-Irish rock band, 'Glasgow Smiley Face', had formed a 'bond' when they competed on 'X-Factor' the previous summer. Jett had accidentally bumped into Ian, causing a clumsy fall smack dab on the ass. Being a gentleman, he'd offered his hand...
”You're that American lass they've all been talkin' 'bout, eh?” asked Ian, his black hair shaved on both sides, the longer middle in a pompadour of sorts. Jett, embarrassed, her fishnet-stockinged butt sore and cold on the hard, backstage floor, her black lacy, tutu-like skirt spread over her thighs,covered her face with lacy, fingerless gloves.
”Dude, I am like..so sorry...” she answered, exhaling nervously, her breasts heaving against a light denim bustier, with yellow and black flannel lining the boning, a long strand of white and black pearls from Mikimoto hanging from her neck. “I just started walking yesterday,” she joked sheepishly.
Taking Ian's offering of a leather- gloved hand, she stood to her feet in a pair of leather Yves St. Laurent high-heeled, platform ankle booties. Jett's look was quite wild, yet blue-blooded. The show's hairstylist had heeded her request of having black and brown clip -in extensions placed in her hair,curling it to resemble Madonna's 'Like a Virgin' hairstyle.
”Oh lassie, believe me, it's no problem,” said Ian, with a devilish glint in his bluish-green eyes. “ You're alright, though? “ Ever since Jett made her debut two weeks ago on 'X-Factor' wearing a white, cropped t-shirt, black cargo pants, and red and black platform heels singing 'One More Night' by Maroon 5, swinging her platinum blonde ponytail, her mezzo-soprano voice, and 'I don't give a shit' attitude, she had become a crowd favorite. She was the Joker in the deck of cards that had quickly become the ace. No one could figure out the mysterious girl from Beverly Hills with the Valley Girl accent and eclectic clothing style...how she managed to slip through the crowds of hopefuls, skipped the lines, and got out of sequence during auditions, and why no one in America had snatched up such an edgy, raw talent.
“Yeah, I'm ok,”Jett smiled nervously, still holding Ian's hand, mentally contrasting the texture of his callused fingers against her own, the heady scent of his Hylnds, Spirit of the Glen cologne tickling her nostrils. His smile was very confident, very self-assured like one of the members of Black Veil Brides one of her favorite bands. His outfit was a simple, white t-shirt, dark Armani Jeans, a leather jacket to cap it off. The brightness of his eyes against his black hair was intriguing to Jett, but she tried her best not to show it.
”All the boys in my band agree, we need to perform together one day,” he revealed, kissing her hand. “You've got quite the pipes there. But I...I want to get to know you; away from cameras, away from everyone else. You mystify me, Miss Sweet Valley Girl...Miss SVG.”
”Mystify Me? That would be a totally awesome name for a song,” Jett deflected, trying to suppress his obvious flirtation. “We could definitely collabo on some lyrics.”
”And our next performer...she's our only American contestant all the way from Beverly Hills, California, Jett Blalock!”
Sighing, missing his chance to comment, Ian could only laugh at fate's little cockblock.”They're calling your name. You hear that crowd cheering?”
As Ian walked with her to stage left, Jett peered from the side of the stage, seeing young, British teenagers holding signs saying”Give Jett her Wings”.
”Win the crowd, win the show, lass,” said Ian, gently letting go of her hand.
Jett, rendered speechless, and suddenly not so embarrassed, quickly ran onto the stage, forgetting her microphone. After a stagehand handed her one, from stage right, an instrumental to “Everbody's Fool” by Evanescence started to play. Effortlessly, with a confident strut and incidental flip of her skirt, the Valley Girl, gave a showing so strong, she brought the house down and the shows rating up. Live feeds on the internet of her performance damn near broke the web.
”Yes! Yes! Amazing!” called Ian from backstage , his bandmates cheering her on as well. “Bravo!”
”Eh, I must say she's good...those vocals are raw. You fancying the rich girl, Ian?” asked Blake, with his drumsticks in hand. “She's quite bonnie...and sassy. Her arse ain't so bad either. We saw her sunbathin' by the pool yesterday and...my oh my...that thing is homegrown with no silicone. Might make for a quite a fun shag dont'cha think?”
”Blake, I'd swear you'd shag ev'ry girl in this frick'n contest wouldn't ya?” Ian answered with a knit brow. “The American girl is quite fetch, but she's sweet...a free spirit. Maybe she'd smoke hash with us ?”
When Jett concluded her song, feeling victorious, she curtsied, which had been a lost art in the age of manners and lady-dom. Flashes from cameras damn near blinded her, and the sound of her name being called over and over rumbled in her ears.
'They're cheering for me,' she thought, when she stood up straight. 'And Gig isn't here.' Nevertheless, Jett looked to her left, seeing Ian waving at her with his bandmates.
'Thank you!” Jett mouthed, pointing to him. Ian smiled, and nodded, noticing a red blush rise in her cheeks, one a makeup artist just could not mimic.
Jett's rousing performance advanced her to the next round. As she was sitting on a tacky, velvet egg-shaped chair going over her schedule of selected songs in the rehearsal room, a call from Gig broke her concentration. Ian, who was also going over song choices with his band, looked over his shoulder momentarily. Jett, wearing a pair of yellow Converses, but still dressed in her performance outfit was grinning, possibly blushing, for whoever was on the other side of the phone.
”Aye, Ian...pay attention would ya?” asked Jake, the redhead, bass guitar player. “Let Valley Girl have some privy before she thinks you're a creep.”
”You don't she think she left a mate back in America?” Ian asked, studying her body language, watching as she crossed one leg over the other in the egg chair, fingering one of her curls. “I mean...she is quite lovely...any smart bloke would lock it down.”
”If she had a mate, we'd know about it; one of the other lasses would have said so,” said Blake the drummer, scratching a head full of brown curls. “Girls never keep quiet about boys they fancy.”
”The only way you'll know is if you ask her,” Jake added with a nod. “She seems like she's an open book.”
”Ian ain't concerned about openin' her book...more like raisin' the hood,” said Blake who was the voted 'pervert' of the group. Shaking his head, Ian facepalmed. Keithan, the keytar player, playfully punched Blake in the arm.
”Ow, what was that for?” asked Blake rubbing his arm. “You're an idiot,” Keithan seethed. “Every bloke ain't tryin' to get in a girl's knickers.”
”Man, Jett, that is awesome news,” said Gig, who was lounging by the Teen Club pool while Troy was also lounging beside him, texting on his Iphone, enjoying a tall glass of Virgin Margarita. “I'll have to watch your performance on my DVR.”
”Gig, do you like know what this could mean if I win?” she asked, fanning herself. ” I'd have to stay in England for while for promos, magazine interviews, and other things and possibly get a record deal.” Gig went silent for a moment.
”It would be your big break, doll,” said the handsome Aussie watching Bianca, dressed in a dark blue bikini, do a swan dive into the pool. “And I would be so proud of you.” Jett sighed, staring at the long list of songs that could possibly seal her fate.
”But Gig...I couldn't do it without you,” she admitted, feeling despondent, worrying prematurely.”I mean...we're 'Flight Risk'...music means nothing without you.”
Gig chewed his bottom lip, wondering if Jett felt that way, why did she even go on the show as a single act? To get a label for them both? To bring attention to their group? What?
”Jett, that's so sweet of you to say, but you just can't worry yourself about that now. Just focus on your singin', I'll keep writing us new songs. Whatever will be, will be. I'm very proud of you...everybody at the Teen Club is proud of you...There is a Billboard of you on Rodeo Drive as we speak,” he answered, reaching for a champagne glass of grape juice. “Don't stress about 'Flight Risk' right now...you just go out there and win the crowd, okay?” Gig replied, his eyes glued on a soaking wet Bianca as she adjusted her bikini top.
Jett was smiling, despite a few tears trickling. On one end, she felt guilty; selfish that she was spending her summer in the overseas spotlight, while Gig was stuck in Beverly Hills, probably promoting their music on the internet. However, her intentions were to grant them an international label's attention in the event of America not being so willing to sign them. Gig was so understanding, and his encouragement eased her mind a bit.
”Ok,Gig, I will,” she said softly, wiping underneath her eyes. “Tell the Teen Club I said 'hello', okay?” Ian, hating to see a pretty girl cry stood to his feet in spiked Doc Martens, making his way over to her chair. Feeling someone close by her, Jett looked up, waving small.
”Ok, Gig, we'll talk soon, ciao.” she answered softly, ending the call.
”Good show, Ian,” she said softly, wiping away any remnants of tears. “You guys sounded incredible.”Looking up at the handsome Scottish boy, a small hoop earring gleaming from his ear, she couldn't resist a smile.
”Valley Girl, all you alright?” he asked crouching down. “Why you cryin'?” Jett shrugged, appreciative of his concern.
”I didn't realize like, just how hard it is being here without my friends,” she said, resting her violet eyes on him. “Like...you all have family coming to support you, and because of the time difference, my friends won't be able to watch the show until a day or so after. And my parents are both traveling. They only know from the internet that I'm even here, competing.”
“Oh lassie, it's okay, you're very brave for what you're doing. Young girl, coming across the pond alone with absolutely no fear,” said Ian, placing his hand on top of hers. “Knowin' that your being an American in an overseas competition could start some controversy and some backlash you...however, your voice is going to raise the standards of this contest. You, my dear sweet Valley Girl. are gonna make a name for yourself in a way you never thought you would.” Jett was awestruck, suddenly touched by the Scot's encouraging words.
”Wow...Thank you, Ian, really,” she replied with a shy smile, boasting a deep smile mark in her right cheek. “I am secretly, so terrified doing this alone...and I miss Gig, too.”
”Gig?” asked Ian with a raised brow. “Is he your partner?” Jett noticed his grip on her hand becoming more possessive.
“Gig is my best friend, we have a duo called 'Flight Risk',” Jett explained noticing the worry in Ian's eyes, which pleasantly surprised her. “We perform for all our Teen Club events. I play the keyboards and he plays the guitar. We have a rule that we will not date each other because that would be bad for business. And...it would just be like.... weird.”
”Oh...so he's just a mate? Like a brother?” asked Ian, breathing a sigh of relief, the adrenaline that previously raced up his spine, slowly coming down. “It would be like datin' your brother?”
”Yeah...like a brother...and it would be really, really weird; unnatural even,” Jett egged on, with a sly smirk. Grinning, Ian lifted her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on it. The Valley girl blushed, looking away for a moment, reveling in the cute Scotty's lips, against her skin.
'Oh...wow', she thought closing her eyes for a moment, making sure that the moment was truly real. A good -looking Scottish lead singer of a very promising rock band was making his fancy for her very apparent, unlike the game players at the Teen Club. Turning her head back, Jett opened her eyes to see her delicate, well-groomed fingers entwined with Ian's.
”Quite a nice look, dontcha think, lass?” he asked with a boyish gleam in his eyes. “I can't lie...I fancy your face, your style and that voice. Jett, I tell ya' , when I heard ya sing...me heart tried to fly outta me chest.”
”Dude, you are so ...freakin' charming,” said Jett, trying to contain her excitement. “You should be focused on the music.”
”I should focus on the music, and the possibility of you coming to the UK for a summer... or ten summers,” Ian cooed, stroking his thumb a long her hand. “It's a win-win sit'ation, eh?”
Jett, suddenly feeling much better, giggled. Out of habit, she looked over her shoulder, making sure that Switchboard was nowhere hiding. Ian, a bit confused by her behavior primped his lips.
”Are you goin' mad?” he asked. Giggling Jett shook her head. “I'm just in awe, that's all,” she reassured.
”Jett...what say we get out of here...away from here?” Ian offered, standing up, urging her from her chair. “You need a break, you need a breather. “What say I take you out in the city for a bite? You like fish and chips?”
”Ehhh...not so much, but how about a Royale with cheese?” Upon that note, Ian quickly pulled Jett into a kiss, sealing the reality of the present moment.
Follow me on Twitter: @MissJayna|
According to my okaa-san, I started drawing at the age of 18 months. She still has my first piece of artwork in the family album in our old house. i used to draw comics based on my favorite Saturday morning cartoons like "Jem" and"Ghostbusters" and basically just drew all the time. I also designed fashion when I was a teenager. I started writing fanfics in 2002 for other fandoms and am happily writing fanfics on deviant art
What are you're favorite makeup brands?
- In no particular order: IT Cosmetics, MAC, Kat Von D, Urban Decay and NYX.
Favorite haircare brands?
-TIGI BedHead, Big Sexy Hair, Nexxus, Paul Mitchell, Kinky Curly, Design Essentials and Redken
Favorite Skin Care line?
-This is dependent on the client's skin care needs and I use products prescribed by my Dermatologist
How do you plan your commissions?
I have to really analyze and judge just how important the scene will be visually. I m also inspired by music, culture and colors. There is always some type of symbolism in all of the pieces I commission.
Are your OC's based on you?
-Actually, my Oc's are based on women that I wish I WAS when I was there age(s). I wish I had the confidence they had...not to mention their wealth.
Are you gonna model anytime soon?
Will you compete in bodybuilding/figure again?
-Probably! It's a little tough to get a workout in nowadays, but i haven't abandoned the weights, trust me. In fact I go mall walking early in the morning with the senior citizens
How many piercings are in your navel?
-Living in the country, mosquitos, fleas, roaches, racist people who try to fake it, people who are rude for no reason, people who walk slow in front of me when i have to pee, acne, acne scars, people who dont wipe off their sweat on the gym equipment, and people with no sense of humor.
My momma, my cats, my Kindle Fire, my fanfics, my devart friends, my earring collections, my hair when it's red, plums, sakura blossoms, waterproof black liquid eyeliner, Kat Von D, makeup, and bright colors.
Current Residence: North Carolina
deviantWEAR sizing preference: small
Print preference: smallest
Favourite genre of music: All types
Favourite photographer: Too many to name
Favourite style of art: Renaissance, Comic, Semi-Realism, Manga, Makeup artistry
Operating System: Windows 7
MP3 player of choice: Ipod
Shell of choice: Cheetah print!
Skin of choice: Smooth, not hairy
Favourite cartoon/anime character: Jem!!!!! Thundercats! Kouga!
Personal Quote: what now? kthankxbye!