Fuentes Next

Word on the street is that I'm a whore. I'm a slut. Jail bait. Home wrecker. Seducer of men. Man eater. Whatever other word you can come up with. I don't know who started all these rumours. It's not something I really need on my first tour. I don't know why I'm the hot topic of conversation these days. We've only just got signed. This tour is to build us a following. How can we not have a strong following international but have international haters? I don't understand any of it.
Apparently it's all stemmed from my outfit on the first night. Wearing a short dress and high boots means you're just looking for trouble. I don't see anything with the way I dressed that right or every night since. I wear what I would wear if I were going out to a club. Would a stranger on the street come up to me and say I look like a whore? No. So why do people feel they have the right to do it at one of our gigs.
I wasn't prepared for this. This wasn't part of the contract when I made this my dream. Dad never told me how horrible guys and girls would be towards me. People are making up lies about me and I don't know why. V is a girl too and they're leaving her alone. They say how talented V is at what she does. And V is talented, I can't deny that. It just annoys me how people are singling me out.
Fay says I think too much. He said I shouldn't pay any attention to them. I'm living most of their dreams. I get to hang out with my friends all day. I get to see so many places and do what I love every single night. On top of that I get paid for it. It still doesn't make people shut up though. It doesn't stop it from getting to me.
I went to my bunk and took out my phone. I dialled Dad's number and as I waited for him to pick up I lit a cigarette. I popped it in between my teeth and took a deep drag. I blew out a cloud of smoke through my nose and rested my head back against the wall.
"Hey Effy." Dad said.
"Hi Dad." I replied, taking another drag.
"How's tour going? You've been there . . . ten days now."
"Yeah that's right," I agreed. "It's going okay."
"Just okay?" he questioned.
"Yours great." I quickly said.
"But?" he urged.
"People are talking about me." I explained.
"I know. I saw." he sighed.
"Did you see everything?"
"Most things." Dad replied.
"I feel shit."
"Effy." he scolded.
"Sorry, I feel sad."
"You can't listen to it. You can't let it affect you," Dad told me. "If I sat at home all days on search engines just searching my name I'd get all kinds of horrible stuff come up. I could spent forever reading it and stewing in all the hate I get. But I don't, you know why?"
"Why?" I grumbled.
"Because if you want to make it you can't let yourself do it. You need to focus on what is important for you individually. Now what's important?"
"My band and the music." I said easily.
"Right. You need to focus on the music," he said. "Tony is shy and quiet. He hates meeting new people and talking in front of everyone. People say that he's angry and doesn't want to connect with any of the fans. Mike's done some bad stuff in the past. He smokes . . . a lot. Some of the fans hate that. People have started rumours about me. I'm a bit of a loner sometimes. I screw up too and I sing like a girl. As for Jaime . . . well I don't know. Everyone seems to like him, he's so daft."
"Jaime spends too much time on his hair." I said lightly.
"Right! Self absorbed bastardo pálido." he laughed.
"Dad?" I asked.
"Hmm?"
"Is there anything wrong with how I dress on stage?"
"Of course there isn't," he soothed. "I think what you wear on stage is beautiful. Do you know why? Because I think you're beautiful. There's nothing wrong with you. When you get into this business - especially if you're female - people try and pick and pick at every little thing that you do." Dad reassured me.
"But why?"
"They have nothing better to do. They want you to realise they're there and that they exist. Sometimes the best and easiest way to do that is to send you hate."
"Them people suck." I grumbled.
"I know, Effy," he admitted. "Now are you okay?" Dad asked me seriously.
"Ef, soundcheck!" Fay called.
"I'm okay," I told Dad. "I need to go. We have soundcheck."
"Okay, call me if you need me. Don't listen to the negative stuff."
"I won't," I promised. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"Bye." I said and I hung up. I put my long burn out cigarette in a tiny box my bed.
Then I jumped down from my bunk and into the front lounge. I found it empty accept for Fay. "Thanks for waiting." I told him.
"No problem. Feeling better now?" he asked.
"Yeah, needed a chat with my dad." I explained. I got my bottle of water from the side and took two pills. I swallowed hard and smiled at Fay. "Ready?" I asked.
"In a sec," he told me. "What's going on with the pills, Ef?"
"What?" I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're taking them all the fucking time."
"I don't!" I defended.
"Yesterday you took some when you woke up. Then again when we went out just before sound check. Then again before the show. That's the second time today you've taken some."
"Damn Sherlock." I smirked.
"I'm serious," he snapped. "It never used to be that much."
"I'm doing it for us, Fay! I'm doing it so I can work. I need them."
"All of that was bullshit accept 'I need them'."
"So what if I do?"
"It's not right, Ef."
"Look, if I really wanted to stop I could. I could do it. I just don't want to. So can we please drop it and go to soundcheck?" I asked desperately.
"Fine." he shrugged.
Fay got up and held the door open for me. I walked out of the bus and we went across the street to the venue. I saw a few fans and waved to them. They grinned and waved back. We got inside the building and I let out a breath of air. Fay doesn't know what he's talking about.

Notes

Hey! What did you think? Is Effy addicted? What about what everyone is saying? How will she react? What about Effy's love life? What do you wasn't to happen there, or just in general? :)