Rocking on Television (Chapter 2)

On the day before January 1st, Madeline picked up her friends to drive them over to her friend, Chrissy’s, house for the New Year’s party. That morning, Skye’s manager, Mac McClain, drove the band, A New Yesterday, into the city so they could be near the area that they are performing at. The band stayed in a hotel room while McClain stayed in another – and better – hotel room. When the night came, they all headed to the venue where musicians would perform before cameras for Channel 16. Meanwhile, Skye’s girlfriends hung out in Chrissy’s living room which was filled with teenagers, most of them from their high school.
“Are you guys hungry?” brunette Chrissy asked the girls who were sitting on the couch. “I got mad hors d’oeuvres.”
“What kind?” asked Madeline. “I’m on an Omega-3 fatty acids diet.”
“I have pieces of fish filet wrapped in lettuce stuck with toothpicks.”
“Oh, that’s what I’m talking about, girl!”
“But I’m not sure the fish filet is a coldwater fish.”
“Is it fried?”
“No, it’s salmon.”
“Coldwater!” Madeline and Chrissy said at the same time, pointing at each other.
“I almost made forgot,” Chrissy admitted.
“I might get myself some later,” said Madeline. “I’m trying to free my skin from zits.”
“But your skin is so clear.”
“Not as clear as yours. Girl, your face just deflects pores like bulletproof glass.”
“I watch what I eat. I’ve also been using X-Out.”
“So do I but every now and time, I find myself face first into cronuts.”
“Not the cronuts!”
Madeline and Chrissy giggled while the girls just stared.
“Uh, you two need a room?” Andrea quipped.
Madeline looked at Andrea and giggled. After that, a lean guy in a green T-shirt walked up to the couch. He leaned against the back of the couch and hovered over Lizzie.
“Excuse me,” he said, trying to be suave.
Lizzie looked up at him.
“I’m afraid that I lost my number. Can I have yours?”
“Oh, sure,” she said, going through her navy leather purse. “Not a problem; I’d be glad to help.” She took out her cellphone and turned it on. “Hang on a minute. I always—“
“Lizzie,” Debra grabbed her friend’s attention. “It’s a pick up line.”
“Oh. Oh!” Lizzie looked up at the guy. “I’m sorry, guy. I can’t let you pick me up because I have a boyfriend and we really like each other.”
The boy moaned. “Ooh, later.” He then walked away.
“The ultimate boy repellent,” started Andrea, “having a boyfriend.”
“Some guys don’t care if you have a boyfriend,” said Debra.
“Yeah, her boyfriend is DeMarcus and when you look like DeMarcus, people might as well crawl up like an armadillo.”
“Should I crawl up like an armadillo?” asked Lizzie.
“No, you’re—you’re fine.”
“Chrissy, can you change to Channel 16?” requested Madeline, pointing at the high definition television. “Skye is going to be on TV.”
“For realsies?” inquired Chrissy. “I got to see this.”
Chrissy picked up the remote from the coffee table in front of the couch and changed the channel of the television. On the screen was a man in a suit holding a fluffy microphone under his chin. He was standing outside in front of a barricade which was restraining a bunch of people screaming and jumping.
“Everybody is excited to be here,” he announced into the camera, “and if these people stay outside any longer, there is a likely chance that they will pee on themselves. Our next performer comes straight from Laguna Beach. The lead singer is a girl with an attitude. The rest are punky fellas who play the instruments behind her voice. No, it is not Paramore. Or the Cranberries. Or We Are the In Crowd. I don't think any of them are from Laguna Beach. But they’re good and they’re releasing an album next year. Performing their original song, “Mister Blazer”, here is A New Yesterday!”
The people behind the barricade screamed and so did the girls back at Chrissy’s house. Everyone at the party turned their attention to the TV to focus on Skye’s band on an illuminated stage. They all gathered, anticipating the performance. Skye put her lips on the microphone and gripped the top of the stand. David played an aggressive riff on his guitar. Kent later banged on the drums slowly, tempting the audience to clap along. As Sean began to play his dirty sounding bass, Skye started singing in a raspy, almost sensual voice.

Mister Blazer
Are you going to work?
I’ve been watching you
And it’s starting to hurt
I’m addicted
To the way that you walk
I don’t want to be a stalker
So is it that we talk?
Tell, tell me, baby

The music then became louder and harder, creating a rhythm inside the audience. The teens back at the party even started grooving. Skye took the microphone off the stand and sang louder into it.

I wanna solve your mystery
But I don’t want to be history
And I wanna rip your clothes off
So you can be free
And maybe you’ll learn to get used to me
I wanna show you a joyride
And maybe let you come inside
This mind of mine, it’s loud and alive
I guess you’re gonna have to get used to me

Skye jumped around the stage as well as David and Sean. That prompted everyone in the audience to jump. Skye screamed at Kent who was letting out all of his energy on the strong drums. Everyone at the party were dancing in their own special ways.
“Skye is killing it!” commented Debra.
“And this HD TV is off the hook,” remarked Andrea.
“I know,” Lizzie agreed. “You can see the pimple on her jawline.”
On the screen, Skye put the microphone back on the stand and took off her black leather jacket. She dropped it behind herself then took the microphone back off again. She sang, “Mister Blazer” into it in a long, piercing note, which drove the audience crazy... in a good way. David and Sean sung the chorus in unison into their own microphones. When Skye began singing, they stopped singing and walked around the stage while shredding on their guitars. When the song came to a close, the boys played their instruments rapidly with Kent tapping on the cymbals. Skye faced Kent and screamed again. When he hit the drums, Skye jumped as high as she could as Kent and the rest silenced their instruments. The audience cheered and applauded while the teens at the party did the same.