at the thick eyeliner with makeup remover. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend three months with grand-mére Léoma. There wasn’t much I wanted more than to spend time with the only person on the planet who loved me for me, and not for what I could do for them. I’d grown up in the small backwater bayou town of Avery Island and I loved it and missed it more than I could have ever imagined, but my old friends from high school hated me. In the beginning when I went home, it was fun, but when I really made it big, it was like they resented me for my success. These days, when I went home, I stayed in grand-mére’s house and never ventured into town.
I could handle three months of solitude with just me and grand-mére, but three months was a long time, long enough to run into Avery Trahan, my high school sweetheart, who I was still more than just a little bit in love with. I could not handle seeing the indifference in his eyes.
It had hurt Avery the most when I left. He understood I couldn’t turn down such a golden opportunity, but it happened so suddenly, and we’d said some awful things to each other and had barely spoken since.
I’d always loved singing as a child and I had huge dreams of becoming a rock star, leaving Avery Island far behind. In high school, my friends and I would make the long trek to New Orleans on Friday and Saturday nights, and we’d find any club or speakeasy that would let us sing.
I was barely sixteen years old when Max Clark handed me his card and swore he’d make me a star. I believed him too and thought he could make all my dreams come true, even grand-mére thought so when he respectfully came out to our remote home in the bayou to meet her and assured her he only had my best interests at heart. He was a smooth talker back then, still was; but he had grand-mére’s signature on all the papers and within a month, I was on the radio with my first single, and within two months, I was on tour, opening for one of the most popular boy bands at the time. I quickly surpassed them with Max’s head for business, and it didn’t hurt that I’d been picked up by one of the best labels around.
The first few years had been amazing, but I quickly tired of the pop scene. The music wasn’t anything I’d have ever listened to, and that was part of the problem with my friends back home. They thought I was a sell-out and I suppose I was. I always thought the pop-princess thing would turn into something more serious, but here I was ten years later and I was still dancing like a trained monkey, doing whatever my managers told me.
Ten long years of working; singing, dancing, touring, not to mention the interviews and music videos...it was all a never ending circus and the thought of a real break was appealing, but could I really go home?
"What the hell else am I going to do for three months?" I frowned at my reflection in the mirror as my phone buzzed.
"Silas." I smiled. My ‘boyfriend,’ handpicked by my managers. He was also an artist represented by my label and everyone thought it would be great for both our careers to be seen together as often as possible.
"Elise!" he exclaimed loudly when I answered.
"Hey Silas!"
"How was the show?"
"Same ole, same ole."
"Listen, I’m shooting a new music video next month and my managers think it’d be great if you make an appearance, you know, just for fun?"
"Sure thing Si." If I did decide to go home, I could use Silas’ video as an excuse to bail if I needed one.
"Awesome babe, thanks! So the tour’s over? You want to come out and hang with me in Malibu for a few days?"
"Nah, I think I might go home for a few weeks."
"Home, like to the swamps home, or L.A. home?
"Not sure yet. It might be nice to get back to the peace and quiet of the good ole bayou."
"Really? Mosquitos? Gators? Hillbillies?"
"Dangit Silas, we’re Cajun, not hillbillies!"
"You’re cute as hell, you know that right?" He laughed.
"Don’t tease me." He was such a
I could handle three months of solitude with just me and grand-mére, but three months was a long time, long enough to run into Avery Trahan, my high school sweetheart, who I was still more than just a little bit in love with. I could not handle seeing the indifference in his eyes.
It had hurt Avery the most when I left. He understood I couldn’t turn down such a golden opportunity, but it happened so suddenly, and we’d said some awful things to each other and had barely spoken since.
I’d always loved singing as a child and I had huge dreams of becoming a rock star, leaving Avery Island far behind. In high school, my friends and I would make the long trek to New Orleans on Friday and Saturday nights, and we’d find any club or speakeasy that would let us sing.
I was barely sixteen years old when Max Clark handed me his card and swore he’d make me a star. I believed him too and thought he could make all my dreams come true, even grand-mére thought so when he respectfully came out to our remote home in the bayou to meet her and assured her he only had my best interests at heart. He was a smooth talker back then, still was; but he had grand-mére’s signature on all the papers and within a month, I was on the radio with my first single, and within two months, I was on tour, opening for one of the most popular boy bands at the time. I quickly surpassed them with Max’s head for business, and it didn’t hurt that I’d been picked up by one of the best labels around.
The first few years had been amazing, but I quickly tired of the pop scene. The music wasn’t anything I’d have ever listened to, and that was part of the problem with my friends back home. They thought I was a sell-out and I suppose I was. I always thought the pop-princess thing would turn into something more serious, but here I was ten years later and I was still dancing like a trained monkey, doing whatever my managers told me.
Ten long years of working; singing, dancing, touring, not to mention the interviews and music videos...it was all a never ending circus and the thought of a real break was appealing, but could I really go home?
"What the hell else am I going to do for three months?" I frowned at my reflection in the mirror as my phone buzzed.
"Silas." I smiled. My ‘boyfriend,’ handpicked by my managers. He was also an artist represented by my label and everyone thought it would be great for both our careers to be seen together as often as possible.
"Elise!" he exclaimed loudly when I answered.
"Hey Silas!"
"How was the show?"
"Same ole, same ole."
"Listen, I’m shooting a new music video next month and my managers think it’d be great if you make an appearance, you know, just for fun?"
"Sure thing Si." If I did decide to go home, I could use Silas’ video as an excuse to bail if I needed one.
"Awesome babe, thanks! So the tour’s over? You want to come out and hang with me in Malibu for a few days?"
"Nah, I think I might go home for a few weeks."
"Home, like to the swamps home, or L.A. home?
"Not sure yet. It might be nice to get back to the peace and quiet of the good ole bayou."
"Really? Mosquitos? Gators? Hillbillies?"
"Dangit Silas, we’re Cajun, not hillbillies!"
"You’re cute as hell, you know that right?" He laughed.
"Don’t tease me." He was such a
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