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He's My Rockstar

Book By: mspdoll

Let me tell you the story from when I was sixteen, when I met someone that would ultimately change my life forever. You're expecting a simple boy, right? I guess that can do. Although I would just like to say, he's no ordinary boy. Famous all over the world, writing songs and creating music and constantly traveling, with girls salivating over his posters and cameras hungrily clicking for images of him walking down the street--I'll tell you the story of the time when I fell in love with a rockstar, and when he fell in love with a simple girl like me.

Submitted:Sep 24, 2012    Reads: 142    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

"Come on, Jade! This is it! This is MAJOR's dressing room!" Sarah Dougherty tugged on my arm. Her face held the mixture of awe and reverence, like she was standing on holy ground. She was gripping my arm hard, though, and I struggled out of her grasp as I myself stared at the star hanging on a door. Engraved on it was "MAJOR". I had to take a deep breath.

"Isn't this kind of... ridiculous?" I paused as I tried to search for the right word. "I mean, aren't westalkingthem?"

"You think this is ridiculous," Sarah repeated, looking at me incredulously.

"And stalker-ish," I added, but she looked like she completely dismissed what I've said anyway, because she had this crazed look in her eyes.

"They're celebrities, Jade. Don't you think they're used to this by now? And anyway, that's not important." She waved her hand. "The important thing is, you are meeting him here, alright? You know what would beridiculous?"

I threw up my arms. "Yes, please, Ms. Know-It-All, enlighten my dumb heart."

Blinking, Sarah stared at me; possibly wondering whether I was being sarcastic or serious. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna go ahead and enlighten your dumb heart anyway--and oh, how dumb it is indeed." She rolled her eyes. "Look, it would be ridiculous to not go in this room when we've already spent like, half an hour trying to figure out how to find it in the first place! We're going in, and I don't give a flying--"

Suddenly, the door opened, and the air passage in my throat seemingly got smaller that I felt like I was choking. Sarah's nonsense noise cut off was also a huge indication that she was as shocked as I was. I didn't even have to look, because why wouldn't she be?

"Hi, uh... Are you guys okay?"

Sarah was the first one to have found her voice first, but what she said was so stupid I don't think my brain was able to properly process it. She stammered something about being "so excited to be here" and droned on about her older brother who was a tattoo artist. Like, why would Max Foster care about some weird, creepy girl's older brother?

As soon as I realized that, I managed to knock myself back into reality. "Um, what she meant was--" I eyed Sarah a dirty look. "--that it's so nice to meet you, Max."

Okay. Boring. But at least not dumb.

"Hi," he greeted politely. His blue eyes glittered, and suddenly I was very aware that I was in the presence of the one whose face graced my bedroom walls.

Good heavens.

I'm not even Hindu, but is this what it feels like to achieve complete nirvana?

"Jade," Max went on, "isn't it?"

Sarah and I exchanged bewildered looks, and I tried to swallow the scream crawling from my throat.

"Uh, yes."

"Well, I'm pretty busy right now and have to go and rehearse with my band. But I'll call you later, all right?" He winked at me as he disappeared inside the room, and Sarah and I were left squealing and jumping and thrashing about as soon as the door clicked.

"He's gonna call you!" Sarah kept on squawking at my ear.

"I know! He's gonna call me! And I don't even know how he got my number!" I squealed right back. "He's gonna call me! Max Foster is gonna call me! He's gonna--"


Instantly, I felt myself being dragged back to reality. I was momentarily confused, then I realized it had just been a dream. Blinking my eyes open, the figure in front of me cleared and I realized it was Mom. There was a smile on her face. "Good morning. You should grab some breakfast before I head off to work."

I grunted, covering my head with the pillow. Thanks, Mom, I wanted to say. Way to move me across the country in a day's notice and then decide to wake me up at 9 am on a Saturday. When will the torture end?

"Listen, I hate that I have to go to work today. I feel bad for leaving you here on the first day after moving, but I'll make it up to you, okay? Call me at work if you need anything. I left my phone number on the fridge." With that, she slipped out of the room--my new room--and I stood up with a sigh.

I guess I should tell you that we just moved in the previous day from New York. I remembered my stuff were still in boxes sitting by the side of my bed, and the closet and drawers were still untouched.Well, look at the bright side,I thought to myself as I headed to the shower,at leastI won't have to share one with Mom anymore.

For a "bright side," that wasn't too bright, and frankly, quite depressing, considering the fact that it was the only good thing that I've realized since coming here.

As I turned to face the mirror hanging on the wall, I began to vaguely recall the dream I had.

It's weird that Max Foster would turn up in my dreams. I haven't liked him since I was fourteen years old, a time when I salivated over the MAJOR posters lined up on the wall at Walmart, begged my mom to buy me the CD's and the books and the shirts. I thought he was very talented, not to mention gorgeous. Yeah, even if he has turned into this conceited rockstar, I'm not going to dismiss that fact.

Now that I've thought about it, in my dream I was acting like Iwasfourteen years old again, what with the whole screaming and everything. But like I said, he really wasn't who I thought he'd be, and that's unfortunate. Or maybe he has just somehow evolved into this million-dollar-making-machine thus giving him a big, big ego.


There's been rumors of him wanting to go solo as well. No surprise there. And apparently he's gotten into some fight with another artist. The list just goes on and on... Honestly, I don't know why girls fawn over him now that he's such a douchebag.

I mean, he's cute. Definitely cute.But any girl with a working brain would know better than to act like he's God's gift to girls everywhere.

But honestly. Of all people, why in the world wouldhebe inmydreams?


I quickly got in my shower and pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the warmth of the water against my skin and the smell of the shampoo wafting in the air. The shower always had a calming effect on me.

I tried my best to steer my mind away from the dream, and so I started thinking about something else--about the new home and the new school. I'm not expecting much, really, which is why I'm depressed about the whole thing.

Little do I know, as soon as I start my junior year in Minnesota, something very unexpected will turn up.

Or should I say... someone.


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