Explicit Content

The chauffeured car came to a stop on the fringe of my family's property and the wrought iron gates creaked open before the driver made a turn onto the properties long driveway and began making its way up the smooth pavement. It was a very familiar sight, one that I'd over time grown to dislike, I'd think I'd prefer to live in the bustle of the city over the country vibe my parents seem to love so much.

They always said they were planning on retiring in an old England town, they've been adapting themselves to the environment since day one.

I'd put my iPod away by this point, with the window down the remaining scent of smoke had been forced out of the car and I was ready to get out and head inside by the time the vehicle came to a standstill. The corseted part of my dress was starting to dig into me and the underwear I was wearing were really uncomfortable.

But Elliot's friend is here and he's probably gonna make me talk to them whether I like it or not and I can't simply change into a singlet, panties and an old bathrobe. No, I have to look bright and happy and have to be well dressed with a full face of makeup and my hair done because God forbid I should blow one of my brothers precious movie deals.

I wish he'd at least mentioned who it was so I could get an idea of what I should change into exactly since I've sat in the dining room and eaten dinner with James Cameron while dressed in flannel pajamas. During the peak season of films it was like there was a lucky dip of famous people at the Streetham mansion, I never knew who I was going to accidentally bump into whether they be my brothers guests or my parents, sometimes they'd collaborate and it'd be both.

Edgar, my driver, jumped out of the car immediately and hurried around to my side, opening the door before I'd even taken my seatbelt off. I held the front of my dress up off the ground as I got out of the car and walked up the stairs to my house, the door eternally unlocked because of the security of the property.
We had cameras everywhere, security on call, a gate that a battering ram couldn't take down and a system built into the house that could have the entire thing locked down in seconds.

"Thank you, Edgar. I'll see you tomorrow." I took a second to wave goodbye to the driver before stepping into the mansion and closing the door behind me sighing and taking off the pair of slippers I always took with me to wear after a show. There was no way I could survive in some of the high heels I've had to wear, they've either been too tight or loose or high, some of the damn heels I've been put in were so high could break my leg in them. Having backup slippers were simply a bit of common sense and I'd first developed the habit only a couple of months after I first started making show appearances.

Everything inside the house was quiet and I noticed myself wondering where Elliot must be, he was usually watching the tv at top volume but it was so soundless that he might as well not have even been here. Probably because he was entertaining, he always tuned his personality down for guests, he couldn't have it getting out amongst the media that he was actually a jerk.

Not bothering to go on a search mission for my brother at that second I walked through the mansion, heading for my wing of the house. I could smell the cigarette smoke that and seeped into my skin and knew I'd be needing to cover it up with a spritz or two of perfume since I'd made a quick mind change and decided that I might in fact bump into him and his friend.

If Elliot didn't want me around him then that's where I was going to be, whether he liked it or not and I was going to be at my 'worst'.

I approached my dressing table and checked my face in the mirror, once I'd finished my set and returned to the dressing room Veronica had quickly removed my makeup and applied something a little less...neon. The point that I'm clearly not making off the bat is that I absolutely hate putting my own makeup on since I can't really do it that well and I can kinda tolerate having someone else do it but even then a fine line was being pushed. I was just glad I didn't have to dress myself up or spend a couple of hours in a chair while people buzzed around me.

With a dash of strong and expensive perfume on my neck, wrists and right down my cleavage I was ready to go and I tousled my hair as I walked out of my bedroom, the bottom of my dress dragging slightly behind me, showing that the piece had been specifically designed to be paired with shoes. I couldn't get away with wearing this normally unless I was boosted up from my five foot six to a five-eleven. I was nearly nineteen, I wasn't getting any taller, all the sudden height boosts bad come and gone a couple of years ago.

When I was a little girl I thought I'd be tall like my mom, dad and Elliot, now I was a couple of inches over average, nothing impressive in my imposing family. Mom was five-eleven, without her heels. My younger sister, Aubrey (who was twelve) was as tall as me and gaining inches every couple of months.

Looks like I'm going to be the short-ass of the family.

I made my way down the flight of steps to the second floor and walked in the direction of the kitchen, chances were that Elliot had parked himself in the kitchen and was getting beer after beer out of the giant, expensive fridge.

Despite swearing to never touch the stuff as a kid nowadays Elliot was about one bad breakup or dear dead pet away from becoming an alcoholic. It's not that he was out of control, I knew he was totally aware of what he was doing (the same as I had a handle on my bad habits), the problem was that he didn't want to control himself and decided to go ahead and suck down way more than a couple of beers everyday. I'm actually surprised that he managed to do any directing, producing or organizing.

Not to mention I have no idea how he gets up in the morning with some of the ripper hangovers I've seen him with.

As I pushed the swinging kitchen door open I walked into what smelled and sounded like a professionals workspace. Today we didn't have our chef cooking up meals and shopping for healthy groceries but we did have a very, very talented live-in maid who could cook just as well as any Oliver, Stone, Lawson or Ramsey.

"Marjory, do you know what my brother's up to?" I asked, picking an apple up from the fruit bowl on the counter, everything tasted better organic.

"I believe he came in here mentioned something pertaining to the new film of his and dinner then disappeared into the backyard with his young friend." Marjory thought everyone was younger than her although no one in my family was capable of guessing how old she was, she had a very ageless look about her but if I had to make a guess then I would say her late forties but I'm probably wrong. I'm horrible at guessing those kinds of things about people.

"Okay thanks but do you know where he is?" I shined my apple on the front of my dress and ate a piece of cooked pasta that Marjory seemed to have just finished boiling. It tasted good, of course she would be able to make something that good from nothing else but hot water.

"No, sorry. But his friend did mention music so they may have gone into your studio."

Oh no the hell they didn't.

Elliot liked to direct and produce, Dad did the same along with some dabbling in scriptwriting, Mom's soul consuming passion was directing. Mine was music, only music and that is why I had my music studio with all of my instruments and all the things I needed to mix and record songs whenever I was struck by a bolt of creativity.

My brother was never supposed to be in that studio. He could parade through my room whenever he felt like it but my studio was mine and mine only, I'd even gone to the point of calling a handyman out to talk about installing a lock to avoid these exact situations.

I bit a chunk out of the apple before turning around and walking out of the kitchen to find Elliot before he and his celebrity buddy trashed one of my few zen places.

The studio lay at the end of a trail of stepping stones in the backyard, it had been built from scratch ten years ago as a birthday present, that had been the same year I told my parents I wanted to be a musician. It wasn't a house of any variety and was about the size of a large living room with an isolation booth, live room and control room.

As the years went by and I racked up a number of instruments as well, a grand piano that I've been practicing on for as long as I can remember, a couple of guitars (both electric and acoustic), a bass, and a violin...somewhere. Each one of them I could play well enough to impress but I rarely went out there and practiced since I was so often busy, regardless of that factor Elliot should remain at least fifty feet away from my little temple.

The path ahead of me was little with solar lights that came on as the sky went dark, it was a pretty sight but nothing interesting enough to make me dawdle. Not when in the distance I could see the light spilling from the windows of my music studio.

Even if it's not Elliot there's certainly someone in there.

It didn't really occur to me that maybe the person in there was a criminal or some kind of nuts stalker (hey, it's happened three times before), it might have been nice though if my brain had been quick enough to connect the pieces together before I went ahead and opened my mouth, calling out to the person inside. It was this kind of stupid thinking that will get me hurt someday, I'm not sure if a stalker or murderer will have anything to do with it but considering my common sense it's not too impossible.

"Hello? What do you think you're doing in here?" It wasn't an Einstein move for me to then enter the studio either but I still couldn't help myself and it would be a lot better if I knew whether I was dealing with a wandering celebrity, my brother or some regular person with an indescribably vague understanding of personal property.

I was only a couple of steps into the room when I saw the figure, he had his back turned to me, arms crossed and it looked like he was staring at all of my equipment. I noticed he had a very old and practically falling apart leather jacked, it was barely held together by an assortment of safety pins, messy stitches and entirely random strips and patches of a bright red fabric. I could also see the jacket was a bit too big.

So a hobo's broken into my studio?

He'd heard me enter the room and turned around, instantly making eye contact and giving me a foxish grin. "Just checking out your setup, pretty nice but you need drums. For a place this small I'd say you'd need electric rather than acoustic. My name's Gee. I'm the latest person your brother's ass kissing so I guess you could say I'm his friend." He then stepped forward, offering to shake my hand.

I found myself briefly unable to reply and simply remained staring at him, mouth on the verge of falling open. He had those exact shade of hazel eyes that I loved and his near smirk made my brain have to do a double take on the entire situation before my attraction flipped over to anger that he had completely ignored my personal space by coming in here.

There was a sign on the door that said it was 'for the personal use of Viola Street only'.

"Violet Streetham, Elliot's sister. Now get out." I stood back and pointed him in the direction of the door. I got the idea that he must have been my brother's 'guest' but I had no clue what he did, he was as handsome as you'd expect an actor to be but way too messy. He didn't look as up himself as nearly all the directors I've met and he can't be one of his club scene mates because he's never informed anyone in the house that they were visiting and certainly couldn't care less if I were around them or not.

"You seem a lot more accommodating on tv and in interviews," he said, sticking his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and slowly walking towards the door as I walked through the studio, turning off all the lights he'd flicked on. When he talked I'd picked up on his accent, strong and definitely straight from New Jersey, there's no doubt in my mind that he's new to LA.

"Because I'm not talking to people who've walked into my studio that is clearly only for my 'personal use'," I told him as I ran my finger under the words on the sign by the front door. He may very well hail from Jersey and dress like he was dropped out of the punk scene but there was no way he made it to Hollywood and hanging out with my brother while being illiterate. "Who are you anyway?"

I didn't recognize him, maybe he was important in whatever circle he was in but I certainly had no part in it.

"Gerard Way, I'm in a band called My Chemical Romance. I have to say you surprised me, darling. I'd have thought you'd recognize me, everyone in the streets do." He shrugged casually and his already directed smile at me grew wider briefly then I turned around and walked back down the pathway, clenching the fabric of my dress in mild annoyance.

"Your band can't be that big, I've never heard of it and if you're anyone at all then you know just how famous I am." I wasn't being cocky, I genuinely couldn't go anywhere without being stopped by mobs of people, I was a household name and I'd worked constantly without reprieve to reach an international status.

There had been a lot of people who weren't willing to listen to Violet Streetham the nepotist and I'd had to work and work and work to be a musician who is respected for her hard work and dedication, to be Viola Street instead.

"That's where you're wrong, honey. We're big enough to be signed to Mercury Records," he replied in a gloating voice and I froze in my spot as if concrete had been shot into my veins, instantly turning me to stone. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Gee was teasing me and I didn't like it but I couldn't have given him any kind of retort, he'd effectively shocked me into silence.

I'd been trying to get with Mercury Records for ages, the were the label to be with. They handled all the artists who did huge arena tours and stayed in president suits, if you were with them then it was guaranteed people would still be talking about you twenty years from now. They also refused to take on anyone they thought didn't have a shot at going down in the books of their genre, they still wouldn't take me despite all of the places I've played in, the awards, the people I've played with and the size of my coffers.

It was infuriating to say the least and hearing that a little band from fucking nowhere could get a contract...it was downright insulting.

After enough time had passed I found myself able to speak again and gave him the put down he'd already been expecting, "well you may be with Mercury but at least I don't smell like someone who hasn't had a shower for a week. Sorry to break the news to you but cigarettes, booze and sweat isn't a lady puller." Despite often being nice I had no nice reply for him, I was hurt that someone like him had been able to score such an important deal when I'd been trying for years to achieve the same thing.

It just wasn't fair.

"You clearly haven't been swayed by my charms yet, I haven't met a girl yet who could resist." Hearing this made me scoff, I couldn't even count the number of cocky men I'd come across, claiming they were the ultimate ladykiller, all of them were simply braggers who made up more lies than actual stories.

"We'll here she is so head back to my idiot brother because I'm not interested." It was so warm where my family lived that I could probably spend the entire night out here in my dress but I wanted back inside and began making my way down the path. If Gee was the guy I'd be eating with then I'd lost my appetite, I now wanted to go for a swim in our pool, relax, de-stress then go to sleep with a clear head.

"You give me ten minutes and I can have you screaming like nobody else." Although I was walking away I could easily tell from the loudness of his voice that Gerard was following me instead of leaving me alone. I have to admit that I had been talked to by a fair few weirdos, not to mention some surprisingly licentious actors and singers but none of them had talked to me like this before and I couldn't decide whether I enjoyed his boldness or was disturbed by it.

"And how old are you, thirty?" I wasn't even considering it but not only would my parents bust a socket if they found out their precious, golden girl of a daughter had hooked up with someone like him the media would have a proper meltdown as well since me, my family and my manager did whatever possible to avoid any intrigue over me or my career.

I didn't work so hard to associate with the likes of him and be dragged down for it.

"Nearly."

"Then grow up already because I'm eighteen and you and I are so not happening. Date a woman your own age, commit to someone and invest time in your career, I might know who your band is if you bothered with your image." I'd nearly reached the backdoor of the house and could see my brother through the large windows, the look on his face when he saw me talking with his friend was beyond priceless.

"Hey, Gee. Whatcha talking about with Violet?" As soon as he saw me Elliot came all but running outside, eager to interrupt the conversation before I blew whatever deal he was trying to make or Gerard heard from me what a kiss-ass my older brother was. The musician had already figured that out for himself and if Gee happened to have a fragile ego then I've long since fucked everything up, not that Elliot couldn't easily call in one of his countless famous friends if he needed to.

"Nothing much," Gerard said, lying without the slightest bit of effort and looking at me with a grin as he continued to talk, "but it has been a pleasure meeting such a great singer. I'd jump at a chance to record with the famous Viola Street." I opened my mouth to stop him from going any further but it was too late, Elliot had already caught on to what he was suggesting.

"Violet isn't starting a tour anytime soon, I'm sure she'd love to collaborate with an up and coming band...why not My Chemical Romance's song for the movie?" I couldn't say I was enjoying watching the two organize whatever song I was going to be singing on but just as I was about to protest Gerard had to add a factor to the equation that would put my head in a spin.

"If the track was good enough Mercury'd be more than happy to write up a contract for you, especially if they were to receive a recommendation from someone already signed with them." Now every part in my body was screaming yes, demanding that I work with this gritty punk, of course there was a voice in the back of my head shouting no but I wouldn't be half as famous as I am if I ever listened to her.

I forced a fake smile on my face and an enthusiasm into my voice that just didn't belong there, "sounds fantastic. Are we thinking collaboration lyrics or something else?" I would do it grudgingly but if I had option I'd rather not waste my voice and breath singing something Gee had written.

"No, no collaborations. I wanted to do something new and different. You're going to be singing parts of a Bob Dylan cover." Okay, that wasn't something I'd expected to hear, neither of them looked like they would listen to any of his stuff let alone want to cover it. I could tell from Gee's expression that he was amused by my reaction to what my brother said.

"What are you thinking, some of the more popular stuff? Blowin' In The Wind, Knockin' On Heaven's Door, Like a Rolling Stone?" Those were some of the more popular ones I could list off the top of my head but if was given time to sit down then I could easily come up with a lot more, especially more of the obscure ones.

"Close but no dice, Cinderella. You and I will be singing Desolation Row."

Notes