Explicit Content

"Viola, you're on in ten!"

There was a special kind of mental whiplash that came with being a musician. I could have been sitting perfectly calm in my dressing room for the past hour but for some reason everyone feels it's necessary to rush me in the last few moments before I'm due on the stage. And there's always someone running around shouting, counting down the minutes of panic I have to endure before I appear on the stage, fresh faced, happy and always beaming about something or other.

To be perfectly honest the pre showtime panic really takes it out of me.
It'd have to be one of the things I would fault about being in the music world.

"Is this good, Ms Street?" The makeup artist said, stepping out of the way so I could look in the mirror and make an assessment on the many layers of makeup completely obscuring what my face actually looked like.

There was a lot more eyeshadow going on than I'd typically like and my grey eyes she had so enthusiastically been complimenting a couple of minutes ago might as well not even be there. My skin still looks pale at least and she managed to make my lips look thicker than thinner rather than the other way around like last time.

Overall, I'd call this a success considering she showed up late without half the things she typically uses.
"It looks great, you did a great job." I looked at the woman and smiled as politely as I could, that's exactly what my parents had told me to do ever since I came to their first movie premiere. A polite and happy smile can mean the world to someone, even if they don't realize just how forced it actually is.

Even in the privacy of home they adhere to their saying as if it's law.

It's a shame the guy who styled my hair isn't here at the moment, I know he was only supposed to be a dollar but I think I prefer him over my usual hairdresser. He's fun to talk to and he's not rough life everyone else I've had, plus he also pulled off turning one of my worst hair days ever into one of my best. If I can I think I'd like get him working for me again, now if only I could remember what his name is, I think he said Carson or something. I'll just be able to check the roster of who was working for me later, my life can be convenient like that.

"Okay, I think I'm as done up as I can be. Can someone help me up please?" My assistant Alice immediately came running over, offering me her arm and helping me up from the chair I'd been sitting in for the past hour. This was nothing new for us, at events such as tonight's fundraiser I would often spend a fair chunk of time in a chair and by the time it came for me to walk I would barely be able to feel my legs let alone walk properly in high heels without falling over.

The dress that I was wearing was also heavy, I don't know what they made it with but bricks or cement would be my first two guesses because I felt like the hem was trying to pull me to the ground with each step I took.

"Veronica, pass me that drink on the table will you?" I asked the makeup artist and she was only too willing to hand me my third energy drink of the night, this last one should keep me awake enough to get through three songs and bit of socialization. I'm not gonna be spending too long here though, I'm tired and I just wanna get home, all the promos I did earlier have completely drained me.

"Viola, three minutes," my manager said, walking into the room and without another word, clipping a small microphone onto my ear and attaching a black box onto the side of my dress. Everyone was always tense in the last few minutes before I had to go onstage, everyone but me of course, I'd been doing this since I was fourteen.

I finished the last of my drink and threw it across the room and into the garbage. "Okay, I'm ready to go, let's get the hell onstage."

Now without the aid of Veronica I walked forward, having to lift the hem of my dress to avoid treading on the delicate fabric. I'm so far from being in the mood for some ridiculous fashion magazine having a go at me for having a little, little tear in my clothing, it would not be the maraschino cherry on my week.

As I did the infamous 'long walk' to the stage I begun my normal routine of vocal warm ups, repeating various lines and going up and down the scales a couple of times. To anyone watching it would probably seem very last minute but it's what I liked, it's what I'd grown used to and it's what had gotten me eight different awards.

I'd met a fair few musicians, some that were in bands or solo singers, each of them had their own little warm ups, they might jog or hum something, maybe say a prayer together or (probably in the case of some metal bands) sacrifice a few dozen virgins. I liked to pop my own bubble and bring myself as far back down to reality as I could, to remind myself of how lucky I was to have what's in front of me.

"My name is Violet Streetham, I am the daughter of two of this centuries biggest movie makers. I have ARIA's and Grammy's, I won an artist of the year award. I am also the perfect example of nepotism but aside from that I'm lucky, I'm lucky to be rich, to be healthy, to be beautiful and to be famous. I'm lucky and if I screw this up my career and family name will be ruined so I better do my goddamned best." I paused in the wings of the stage and stood still as any last touch ups were done on my hair, my clothing and my microphone.

I could hear the announcer talking through a microphone on the stage and my heart clenched, I do have to admit that this part does always make me nervous even though I'm wired to the gills with energy drinks and coffee.

When I first started out singing and when I'd perform for events Mom or Dad would usually stand with me until I had to go on, they'd calm me down and encourage me; they haven't waited with me in the wings for about three years now.

"And next we have LA's sweetheart and multi award winner...she is releasing her third album this year and is one of the main acts for this years AMA's. I give you the one, the only, the blue haired, Viola Street and her new single Grounded."

On my cue I walked out and onto the stage, instantly changing the expression on my face to the bright smile I knew all the cameras and audiences wanted. It didn't matter if I was performing for fans, a bunch of celebrities or both, is all either of them wanted was for me to just smile and look happy all the time.

'The camera doesn't want a misery guts'.
That's what Mom always said.

The same grand piano I'd been using for my last couple shows sat in the centre of the stage and I walked over to it, sat down on the bench and touched my fingers to the keys before taking a moment to hover over them as I ran over the chords to my song in my head.

Grounded had gotten me nominated for three awards and it was probably one of my biggest hits, I've seen teenagers cry when I sing it at shows, I've actually seen their moms beside them crying but none of them ever knew or will know that this song is about being on drugs.

"I'm tied to the ground but that doesn't mean I can't fly away. My feet are on earth but my head's in the clouds and you say. 'Come back, come back and help me out because you're the one who said you'd never let me down'. But you can't call me home, no you can't expect me. Because I never wanted you, I never betted on this and you make me wonder. Did I ever need an us?"

~~~

I was sitting in the back of a chauffeured car after my little piece in the fundraiser. As soon as I'd been out of the spotlight and away from the cameras I'd lit the last stick in my box of cigarettes and was smoking like a chimney with the window cracked just enough to let the smoke filter out. Not enough to let passerby's take note of Viola Street's horrible habit that might affect their teenagers and little kids.

Cigarettes were the least of my problems at the moment.

"Ms Street, there is a call for you coming from your home address, would you like me to transfer it to the back for you?" The driver put the window that separated the front and back of the car down and looked at me through the rear view screen, only making eye contact with me for a couple of seconds before immediately looking away.

People are always afraid to look a celebrity in the eyes, I wonder why.

"Sure, put it through. And close this up thank you." I knocked on the glass pane and it was being moved up before I had even finished speaking. Comfortable now knowing that I had privacy I sat back further in my seat and picked up the phone from the back of the seat in front of me and held the receiver to my ear before speaking.

"Hello, what's the matter?" Usually I didn't get a call straight from the house, it'd always be from an assistant or housekeeper. Mom and Dad were never at home or too busy to call, Aubrey was at that age where she wanted absolutely nothing to do with pretty much anyone in the house and Elliot didn't like me all that much considering I'm his younger sister and he's supposed to do all that big brother crap.

"Viola, it's me El." Yeah I hadn't guessed at all that it'd be my brother, he's probably intending on asking me to go to the shops and buy chocolate milk, something he knew I wouldn't do while still wearing my costume from the earlier performance. Upon making that assumption I braced myself for any number of stupid requests that Elliot could come up with before replying as unenthusiastically as I could possibly manage.

"What?"

"No need to get your panties in a twist for me just calling up." They most certainly weren't in a twist from that, the reason I sounds grumpy was because I knew he only called me to say the stupid shit his intelligent, sophisticated friends didn't have the time for.

"Whatever, I don't care if you don't like my voice, what are you calling me for?" I asked, taking a drag on my cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window. I was always cautious when smoking in this car, my parents used it as well and I knew if they smelt the stale smoke they'd probably chuck a fit. My vocal coach had said that if I stuck to my bad habit of smoking my own body weight in cigarettes I'd end up sounding closer to a pitch-less and out of key Janis Joplin than some pretty voiced mish-mosh of all the popular girly singers around.

The ones who didn't smoke and drop drugs like they were in a British punk band.

On the bright side I didn't drink as much as I could given all the parties I'm invited to and the heavy drinkers I'm often around. Stumbling around for a couple of hours before pulling and feeling like shit the next morning just doesn't hold the same appeal to me as getting high then emptying the nearest fridge to its barebones without any other consequences aside from having to send someone out to get groceries.

"I've got a client over tonight and I'd rather you not walk around trashing the place with your angst vibes. If you could go straight into your room instead of having your post-show sulk around the house that'd be great, thanks." My mouth was open as I was about to reply when I heard a click and a repetitive beep.

Elliot had just hung up on me, if anyone else were to do the same then I'd simply have nothing to do with them, my manager would cut them off and they have no business with me.

I wasn't given the same option with my brother because he (like many other guys who were afraid to grow the hell up) still lived with me and my younger sister in my parents house. Personally I would have moved out if given the option but I haven't found the perfect place yet and in all honesty I preferred the comfort of the room I'd gone from one to eighteen in. If there was some way I would get it removed from the mansion and put in somewhere new then I'd do it in a heartbeat.

I'd finally be away from Elliot and his sheer idiocy, plus the constant barrage of stars he had parading their way through the house. I don't care if Jennifer Lawrence or Chris Hemsworth want to come over for dinner, he should buy his own place with his 'vast fortune' and have them visit his place. Not tell me how to act in the home we both grew up in, he's an adult bird (a stupid one at that) and Mom and Dad need to push him out of the nest already...before it turns into some weird living situation that Entertainment Tonight talks about.

I crossed one leg over the other and pulled my purse into my lap, rifling through countless papers, sticky notes and loose pieces of gum. One of these days I should probably sort all my things out and throw the trash away but today is definitely not one of those days.

Right now I wanted to listen to some music, finish off this really damn good cigarette considering it's my first of the day and I'd like to do all of this while relaxing.

At least I'll get a little bit of downtime before I have to put up a smiling front for my brothers friend because like it or not I needed to eat dinner like every other night. Although knowing Elliot what is dinner will actually be a couple of beers and a game of pool in his man cave, in that case I think I'd rather stick to the confines of my bedroom, at least I can walk around naked and high in their without anyone disturbing me.

I found my iPod and untangled the earbuds before putting them in and searching through the various artists. When I was still on the comedown from a show, tired, wanting more cigarettes and hungry for an actual meal instead of that deluxe celebrity crap that tasted like one too many spices had been added to the dish.

There was only one song I had that made me feel like a real person and not some rich, pretentious nepotist who happened to be a singer because my parents and brother were famous.

'Someone told me long ago. There's a calm before the storm, I know. It's been comin' for some time. When it's over, so they say, it'll rain a sunny day. I know, shinin' down like water.'

As the song played it was as if every muscle in my body relaxed and I slumped a little lower in the car seat, letting my eyes fall shut and leaning my head fall back on the headrest. There nothing more I could appreciate more in this world than a good song with good lyrics.

I'd certainly know, since I strived for people to have to the same appreciation for my music. I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything as grand or breathtaking as I'd like but I still thought I deserved props trying.

'I want to know, have you ever seen the rain? I want to know, have you ever seen the rain. Comin' down on a sunny day?'

Notes