Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
9
Lyric
“Lyric ‘Bodycount’ Walker is still yet to return to tour after the careless, reckless, and some say selfish antics at her last appearance. Word is several hundred concertgoers are banding together to sue Lyric for injuries sustained during the stage collapse. Latest rumors to surface indicate that Lyric is suffering in the grips of substance addiction. If true, her tenure as interstellar starlet may be cut short. No interstellar starlet has ever abandoned her tour before the three-year period. We interview previous interstellar starlets to get their insights into these current events.
The journalist cuts to one of my predecessors, a woman named Lilly Runs. She’s now in her late forties, but she still looks around twenty-five or so thanks to the many cosmetic and rejuvenating procedures she has access to. She was one of the very first interstellar starlets. She’s a legend. She’s also Simon Scowl’s ex-wife.
“Listen, being interstellar starlet means more than just being a singer. It’s about representing humanity. My message to Lyric would be to take this seriously. With great power comes great responsibility. She’s not just hurting herself. She’s hurting humanity.”
“Oh fuck off,” I mutter. “I’m not hurting anybody.”
I wish I could turn the television off, but I can’t find the remote. I’m not sure this room ever had a remote. There’s nothing to do here but watch the screens anyway.
The surgery went fine, so I’ve been told. My leg isn’t even in a cast anymore. The tech they have to knit bones is that impressive. But they’re not letting me out, and I’m seeing medics at least twice a day and I’m tired of them taking blood and I’m tired of needles and of being a thing to fix. I feel more like a car being restored than a person healing.
I have to be patient, though, and I have to be good. I know that I have pushed everybody to their limits, including my big alien bodyguard. I am genuinely concerned he’s going to get sick of my bullshit. He’s such a responsible, kind, competent guy. I owe my life to him I don’t know how many times over.
Zayne is out for the moment. He gets to leave from time to time. He reckons he’s running security patrols, and maybe he is, but I am very, very bored, and very, very annoyed in his absence. I find it genuinely hard to behave myself when he is not here, mostly because when he’s not here I have only the television to amuse me. In spite of how advanced tech has generally gotten, hotels still have televisions, and those televisions are tuned to one station: hotel TV, occasionally interrupted by the news.
At the moment, I am the news, and anchor Jessie Stone has no qualms about turning me into the entire cycle. She seems to take nearly endless pleasure in daily, hourly, narrating the downfall of my career. This woman has been hunting me with her big smile since my tenure as starlet began. Hearing her voice now is the last straw. I’m so angry at myself for fucking this opportunity up, and for failing to read the contract, and basically setting myself up to ruin everything. Asking the audience onto the stage was stupid, but everything else I’ve done has been pretty dumb too.
I now see how this is going to play out. I’m going to give Simon Scowl everything he wants, and he’s going to give me nothing in return. I’m going to be ruined by this, and he’ll be richer than ever before. There’s literally no way for him to lose, and no way for me to win.
“Lyric’s reputation, already in tatters, is taking yet another blow as further revelations of drug abuse are beginning to surface…”
And that’s about when I lose my temper properly. I wish I had some drugs to abuse, but Zayne wouldn’t allow them. I am as clean as I have ever been. I don’t even get to drink. I am on a harsh regime of absolutely clean living. The only time I get to enjoy myself is when I perform and I get drugged by the crowd, but that obviously doesn’t count.
I realize that they’re never going to care what the truth about me is. I’m not being given the chance to tell my story. I’m stuck here, incredibly isolated, watching everything I thought I worked for being taken away from me by rumors and lies.
“Shut up!”
I pick up the television with the woman still talking. I guess it runs on batteries or something, because there’s no cord to stop me from taking the unit for a walk. For a brief moment, I am not sure what I am going to do…
“Will this be the first time a starlet is retired within the first few weeks of her reign? How shameful that would be! Is Lyric Walker a big stupid…”