Ollie with An H
All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013
Song Inspiration: Wild Child ~Juliette Simms
"He's wearing blue paint as pants! Paint! Ohemgee Holland, you have to look!"
I felt my arm roll in an out of its socket by the tug of Quinn’s unusually forceful grasp.
"Will you please repeat that sentence and then tell yourself why I'm not going to look?"
I averted my eyes instead, to a group of guys playing instruments on the lawn. Heavy combat boots and worn converse sneakers trampled over each and every inch of this venue. It was bad enough that they could simply sit on the filthy ground; the fact that one of them actually was laying a sloppy cheeseburger on the cement was enough to make me gag.
And I, Holland Gray never gagged; along with other things.
"This is so incredible! Don't you agree? What am I saying? Of course you agree! Everyone here is so free!” she gasped for air when she finished exclaiming.
"Yeah well that guy won’t be free once someone reports him for indecent exposure." I said, disinterested.
There was a sharp pain in my neck as I tried to avoid the scene my best friend swooned at. My eyes had fallen on one of the five who sat with their instruments. A pair of cherry red headphones adorned his ears as his head swayed lightly. He tapped at the gum stained cement with untied shoes. His fingers wrapped around a badly chewed pencil as he scribbled ferociously at a notepad sitting in his lap. Quinn was saying something about being in love with unhinged freedom when the boy I was watching looked up. His light brown eyes were like magnets in the way the grabbed mine; my punishment for staring. I swallowed, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of a torrent of butterflies attacking my stomach. I jerked my eyes away. My neck was like a tightly drawn rubber-band in the way it popped back in Quinn’s direction. And that's when I saw it.
Blue...just so much blue.
"Hello ladies." An extended hand came into my view but I was still left in shock at what my poor eyes had just witnessed after of,course,that awkward stare off.
The avatar man who stood before me took this opportunity to take my hand in his to shake it. But it wasn't until Quinn thumped me in the back of the head that I pulled my eyes up to see his face. He had a young charming features and sandy blonde hair. The only thing that was missing was clothes.
"Uhm, uhm." I stuttered.
"This is my friend Holland." Quinn spoke up for me, while ever so eloquently elbowing me.
"It's nice to meet you Holland." He said, watching me with an amused expression before turning to her. "And you are?"
"Quinn, Quinn Kassidy." she beamed. "I’ll be competing in the Battle of the Bass this year."
He took her hand, but instead of the warm shake he'd given me, he lifted hers and kissed it. Now, I was sure my gag reflexes did indeed work.
"I'm Brice, front man of Element. I put together an electric guitar version of the Earth song for my audition. It's a tribute to-"
He interrupted himself, making me jump back as he leapt into the air to do a hurky. He landed sloppy, blonde hair falling over his face as he finished saying, "mother earth."
Was this guy seriously using spirit fingers?
Quinn giggled. "I look forward to seeing your performance."
"Yours too." he said grinning. He was obviously quite confident in his blue stained skin. "Heads up though. This competition is not for the weak. There's a million dollar contract on the line. This year I'm pulling out all the stops."
My motor skills had finally picked up, and my eyes had adjusted to the idea that a naked kid was standing in front of us carrying on a casual conversation.
"A million dollar contract?! Quinn! You told me this was just a small talent show!"
She shrugged nervously, "I left out a few small details."
"Excuse me while my best friend chews my head off." Quinn said reluctantly, reading my mind. She let me drag her off a few feet away, Brice's view of us being blocked buy a large man having a lively cellphone conversation.
"What's going on here?" I hissed. "You lied to me about this! Your mom thinks we're here for a nonprofit talent show! That means technically, I lied to my parents and yours!"
"No, it means technically you're covering for me which isn't as bad."
I crossed my arms over my chest.
She rolled her eyes and it looked like she just might laugh, which only made me even more delirious. "Come on Holland, live a little! This could change my life and yours!"
"My life will be over the moment I step back into my front door."
I'd already pulled out my cellphone to confess to my mother what a terrible delinquent I'd been. I'd crossed the line already by letting Quinn dress me this morning when my parents had left for work. A shredded midriff bearing tank top and a patterned mini skirt with a pair of high top chucks. Within twenty minutes, she had turned Holland Gray, the conservative good-girl, into a harlot.
She took my phone, clicking the lock screen.
"You know, I find it kind of sick that I have to tell you that you don't have to tell your parents about this."
I gave her a look. She knew good and well that I was not good at lying to my parents.
"Look, what is it? Do you not have any faith in me? I expect that from my family but not you Holland. Please."
I sighed opening my mouth to speak. Before I could, the naked boy popped his head around the man who'd served as a divider. The man's lip snarled up in disguist and he bumbled away, mumbling under his breath.
"So you guys are doing a duet?" he questioned, strolling over.
"I wish. Holland here is selfish, she likes to keep her beautiful voice to herself." Quinn said, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder.
I waved her comments off, "I'm not into the whole fame and fortune thing. I love music for what it is."
"We're touched Holland,really. But that makes me a lonely solo act."
"And I'm your groupie." I followed sarcastically, still partially fuming that she hadn't told me how big of a deal this was.
Brice chuckled. "You girls are funny; you should come over to the green where the rest of the acts are practicing. I can introduce you to everyone here."
"We'd love to!" Quinn piped up, shooting me a pleading look. She forfeited my cellphone back to me. "That is if my best friend doesn't mind breaking curfew."
I swallowed down all my reservations realizing how big of a deal this really could be. Quinn was talented at four; she was out of this world at thirteen. Now at seventeen years old, smack dab in New York city, she was skilled enough to be chosen as one of the top hundred performing in this, "small talent show." I had no doubt in her ability to go far as a singer, I just wasn't sure I was ready to be left behind when it happened.
I took a deep breath. Holland Gray was a good friend until the bitter end, “Fine. Let's make you famous."