Bullemia is fun, you guys!
Here we join young Mitchie, a girl with an “…Uh…Problem,” a godmother (people totally have those still, right?), and three, um, god-cousins who are famous among that demographic known as “Oh God keep them away from me.” Let’s begin.
Mitchie's P.O.V
We walked inside. I looked around the house, my eyes widened. This place was huge!
Okay, we’re off to a pretty innocent start. The size of their house probably doesn’t deserve an exclamation mark, but we’ll deal with that later.
Frankie walked down the stairs smiling. He grabbed onto my leg. "MITCHIE!" He yelled, hugging me. I laughed.
I’d laugh too if a thirteen-year-old kid taller than me knelt down and grabbed my leg. Laugh nervously. Edge away slowly. Call someone. Anyone.
I hugged him back, smiling. "Tank.. You know where the boys are?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow slightly.
He nodded, "They're outside recording for their show," He said, smiling.
Dude. Their house is so cathedral-like in its enormity that they actually have a television studio in their backyard. I take back my comment about the exclamation mark.
I nodded, walking outside. I leaned against the wall, watching them.
I took a breath. I inhaled. Then I exhaled. My foot itched. I scratched it.
We’re going to skip right over the ENTIRE LYRICS of a Jonas Brothers song wherein we learn that the JoBros “got something real, shawty,” and move onto the “good” stuff.
They all clapped, cheering. Don’t bother to mention who; I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Nate and Macy just stared at each other. Don’t bother to mention who Macy is; I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Nate moved in and kissed her, straight on the lips, and she didn't pulled away, which was weird, because most teenage girls are repulsed by underage B-list celebrities. They kissed for a while.
The cheering stopped. I have clue if this was apart of the show or not, but I had to stay to find out.
Watson: “Well, this is a mess if I’ve ever seen one. What do you make of it, Sherlock?”
Sherlock: “I have clue!”
“You didn’t take your meds, did you?”
“I did not, no."
"CUT!" I heard a fierce voice yell angrily. Nate and Macy quickly pulled apart. “Oh, Nate, he’s going to beat us again!” I looked over in the other direction to see the director standing there. I guess it wasn't apart of the show.
I felt my eyes start to tear up. I'm so stupid. We got that sorted out pretty quickly. Can I go now? I should of known this. You already admitted you’re an idiot. You can stop butchering my mother tongue.
"Nate..Macy..How many times have I told you to STOP kissing while we are filming?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you can kiss someone, but it’ll be off-camera. And it won’t be her. Or any woman, for that matter. And you won’t necessarily be kissing that body part. Because you’ll be in my trailer. With me. Administering oral sex. I’ve said too much, haven’t I?”
Nate blushed, "Uh.. A lot of times," He said, looking at Macy. He leaned over, pecking her lips. Disgusting, the way young people behave these days, with their loud music and their short skirts and their long hair and their open affection…
I studied the girl. Macy Misa. She played herself in JONAS. Nate played Nick Lucas, Shane played Joe Lucas and Jason played Kevin Lucas. Stella played herself too. Stella Malone. Good Lord, this is meta. I eagerly await the day when the Jonas boys are hospitalized with MPD.
I pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear as I looked at what she was wearing. Her hair was pin straight. It was a light brown with blond highlights. She was wearing a baby doll top and thigh length shorts with flip flops. She looked.. Natural. In a “perfectly-engineered-in-makeup-since-dawn-clothes-picked-out-by-experts” sort of way.
Unlike myself who's hair was jet black and curly, except my bangs which were pin straight. AUTHOR: “There’s only one thing in this world straight enough for my comparison.” I was wearing a sex pistols band tee (How the frick old is this girl?), with red jean ripped knee length shorts. It was a point of pride that anyone could look at me and instantly see my complete lack of fashion sense and musical taste. My high top converse were on my feet as always, and I was wearing black sleeveless leather jacket over it. Is it just me, or did it suddenly get a lot more douchey in here?
I pushed the piece of hair that I was behind my hair back into place-can’t-sentence-properly-and walked out when the director called a five minute break. YOU’RE ALREADY OUTSIDE!
I walked over to the brothers, seeing if they'd recognize me. They raised an eyebrow at me, then looked at each other.
"Are you here to change our wardrobe?" Jason asked, as a crew of makeup team came over to fix their makeup. This is the least subtle euphemism for “gang-bang” I’ve ever seen.
I mentally laughed at that. I'd have to tease Shane for that later. He said if he ever got famous he'd never wear makeup, but he allowed them. Practical conventions? How dare he!
I shook my head, "Nope," I stated, blankly staring at them. “It’s almost like…like she’s trying to speak to us, guys!”
Shane looked at his brothers, stepping forward, being the 'brave' one, (“How come we never get to use MY special power?” “Because no one ever needs ‘The Bedwetting One,’ Jason.” "Then.. Why are you at our house, and how did you get in?" He asked me.
I sighed, and went into my acting mode as best as I could without laughing, "I climbed your fence, got past your body guards, and here I am, ready to kidnap you," I smiled, a fake smile obviously. I wish she weren’t kidding, because whatever alternate timeline this occurs in is far more interesting than the one we’re in now.
Shane's eyes widened, "SECURITY!" He yelled. I pursed my lips together as two security guards lifted me up, bringing me outside of the gates. Yalp, that’s a brave young lad you got there. Does he get his mother to kill spiders for him? They set me on the ground and the gates shut.
I sighed, leaning against the tall wall. Your sense of poetry knows no bounds, Author Dearest. I guess I was going to have to wait until Denise, Frankie or Big Rob came out here. Having no background on “Big Rob,” I choose to believe he’s either the crochety old gardener or the giant bodyguard with a secret heart of gold.
Two hours later Denise (<-- fairy godmother) came out and stared down at me, "Sweetie.. What are you doing out here?" She asked me, helping me up.
I sighed, "I decided to joke with the boys because they didn't know who I was, so they kicked me out about two hours ago and I've been sitting here ever since. I said I climbed the fence, got passed the guards, and was there to kidnap them," I looked away as we walked back inside. (Fun fact: since 2007, the Jonas Brothers have survived more assassination attempts than Fidel Castro.)
Denise only growled, "How could they do that to you? I taught them better than that!" “I raised my boys to be POLITE idiots!” She sighed, "I'm really sorry Mitch.. Why don't you go into the kitchen and sit down at the table. Dinner will be ready in a minute," She said, walking into the kitchen with me.
I sat down at the table, putting my head in my hands. This was a great way to start off my summer. Make my three old best friends think I'm some crazy stalker. Not to mention I was sent here because of my..Uh..Problem.. See, she says that, but I have this ominous feeling that she’s going to mention it anyway. (SPOILER ALERT: she has bulimia. Yes, I read ahead.)
Denise put the food down at the table and called for dinner. She looked at me, "So.. Dear.. How is your..Uh..Problem coming along?" She asked me softly, biting her lip. “Are you down to 100 yet? Because you know I won’t love you until I can see each one of your ribs.”
I sighed, looking up, tears in my eyes, "Not good. I can't seem to stop myself.. Every time I try it's like my mind over takes me," I whispered, wiping my eyes. Yeah, minds’ll do that. I'm glad I didn't wear makeup unless I was on a date or special occasions. “Oh, this old thing? It’s just another of my defining character traits. I barely noticed I’d dropped in that random paragraph.”
She looked at me, sympathetically, "Sweetie.. That's why you were sent here.. We are going to help you," She said, placing her hand gently on top of mine. “Sure, you could have gone to a clinic, but let’s be practical-you’re much better off here with three mildly attractive boys your own age to constantly scrutinize you!”
I smiled at her, gratefully, "Thank you.. So much.. You are the first person who has said that," I told her, truthfully. “My mother told me I’d be thinner if I worried less about grades, and my school counselor just gave me laxatives.”
The boys walked in with Paul. Paul sat down, smiling at me. It was me, Denise, Paul, Jason, Tank, Shane then Nate. In that order when they sat down. Remember, the murderer was sitting next to Shane and opposite Nate and was facing a window, and the table is round.
They looked at me, their eyes widening, "What is she doing here? We kicked her out earlier!" Jason yelled, glaring at me.
Shane nodded, "Yeah, she said she was going to kidnap us," He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at me. Glaring is occurring. Duly noted, Author.
Nate added to what he said, "She said she also jumped the fence, got past the guards to come see us." He glared. The Glaring Brothers is also a constellation visible only in the southern hemisphere.
I smiled sheepishly at Paul and Denise who shook their heads. I hope they weren't mad at me. Big Rob walked into the room, sitting down across from Paul. You eat with the gardener? He smiled at me, looking around the table.
Frankie rolled his eyes, "You guys are so stupid!" He said, laughing.
They turned their attention away from me, glaring at him now. Pour boy. Kind of early to be drinking, isn’t it? "What are you talking about?" Shane sneered.
Frankie glared back, not phased, "You really don't have a clue to who she is do you?" He asked them, shaking his head. “I HAVE CLUE!”
They didn't say anything, so they obviously didn't know.
Frankie looked at me, and mouthed, "Sing Shadow." Please don’t.
I shook my head, mouthing back to him, "NO! I am not singing. The last time time I sang they made fun of me for it!" “I lost you on ‘am.’ Long sentences don’t work so well nonverbally.”
He rolled his eyes, mouthing again, "Sing.. Shadow!" “THEY CAN’T HEAR US WE ARE SO SECRET!” I sighed, nodding. I had too because introducing myself was clearly out.
"Sentences of yours, running throughout my head, searching for a chance to catch my breath.
A never ending dream, you'll become a part of me.
Day or night, dark or light, you'll be.
Taking over that thing called my shadow.
Oh."
The enthusiasm floors me.
I glared at Tank, "Happy?" I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest.
He grinned, nodding, "Very," He said, laughing. He turned to the guys, "Now, you better know who she is," He said.
Their jaw dropped as they stared at me. Simultaneously they all said, "Mitchie?" The implication being that she sings like she’s eight.
I nodded, giving them my famous wide grin. Articles had been written, phrases coined, deaths gone bravely toward, for the sake of my famous wide grin. I rolled my eyes, turning it down to a small smile, "Yes it is me. I changed. A lot. I don't have braces, my pig tails are gone, my hair isn't brown, I'm wearing punk clothes. I'm different," I said, shrugging. “Deal with it, yo.”
After that, different was ate in peace. I give up. Questions were asked here and there, and I politely answered them.
After dinner, I had the urge to go puke myself. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to vomit all down my front.” After I helped clean the table, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.
Denise stopped me. She shook her head, pointing firmly to the couch. She stared me down until I went and sat down.
I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning, "Denise.. What happens if I really have to go to the bathroom?" I asked her.
“Suck it up. Ever wondered what urine poisoning feels like? Wonder no longer!”
"Someone will go in with you to make sure you don't do it.. Most likely me," She said, staring at me. “Besides, I’m fascinated by other people’s bowel movements.”
I looked away, sighing. The boys were sitting there confused. They obviously wanted to know what was going on, and I guess it's now or never or later on, maybe.
I stood up, glaring at them, "You want to know whats wrong with me? “No.” I'm bulimic!" I said to them, running upstairs to the room Denise decorated for me. It was beautiful. “I’m slowly killing myself with this horrible eating disor-ooh, shiny!”
Mitchie's P.O.V
We walked inside. I looked around the house, my eyes widened. This place was huge!
Okay, we’re off to a pretty innocent start. The size of their house probably doesn’t deserve an exclamation mark, but we’ll deal with that later.
Frankie walked down the stairs smiling. He grabbed onto my leg. "MITCHIE!" He yelled, hugging me. I laughed.
I’d laugh too if a thirteen-year-old kid taller than me knelt down and grabbed my leg. Laugh nervously. Edge away slowly. Call someone. Anyone.
I hugged him back, smiling. "Tank.. You know where the boys are?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow slightly.
He nodded, "They're outside recording for their show," He said, smiling.
Dude. Their house is so cathedral-like in its enormity that they actually have a television studio in their backyard. I take back my comment about the exclamation mark.
I nodded, walking outside. I leaned against the wall, watching them.
I took a breath. I inhaled. Then I exhaled. My foot itched. I scratched it.
We’re going to skip right over the ENTIRE LYRICS of a Jonas Brothers song wherein we learn that the JoBros “got something real, shawty,” and move onto the “good” stuff.
They all clapped, cheering. Don’t bother to mention who; I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Nate and Macy just stared at each other. Don’t bother to mention who Macy is; I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Nate moved in and kissed her, straight on the lips, and she didn't pulled away, which was weird, because most teenage girls are repulsed by underage B-list celebrities. They kissed for a while.
The cheering stopped. I have clue if this was apart of the show or not, but I had to stay to find out.
Watson: “Well, this is a mess if I’ve ever seen one. What do you make of it, Sherlock?”
Sherlock: “I have clue!”
“You didn’t take your meds, did you?”
“I did not, no."
"CUT!" I heard a fierce voice yell angrily. Nate and Macy quickly pulled apart. “Oh, Nate, he’s going to beat us again!” I looked over in the other direction to see the director standing there. I guess it wasn't apart of the show.
I felt my eyes start to tear up. I'm so stupid. We got that sorted out pretty quickly. Can I go now? I should of known this. You already admitted you’re an idiot. You can stop butchering my mother tongue.
"Nate..Macy..How many times have I told you to STOP kissing while we are filming?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you can kiss someone, but it’ll be off-camera. And it won’t be her. Or any woman, for that matter. And you won’t necessarily be kissing that body part. Because you’ll be in my trailer. With me. Administering oral sex. I’ve said too much, haven’t I?”
Nate blushed, "Uh.. A lot of times," He said, looking at Macy. He leaned over, pecking her lips. Disgusting, the way young people behave these days, with their loud music and their short skirts and their long hair and their open affection…
I studied the girl. Macy Misa. She played herself in JONAS. Nate played Nick Lucas, Shane played Joe Lucas and Jason played Kevin Lucas. Stella played herself too. Stella Malone. Good Lord, this is meta. I eagerly await the day when the Jonas boys are hospitalized with MPD.
I pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear as I looked at what she was wearing. Her hair was pin straight. It was a light brown with blond highlights. She was wearing a baby doll top and thigh length shorts with flip flops. She looked.. Natural. In a “perfectly-engineered-in-makeup-since-dawn-clothes-picked-out-by-experts” sort of way.
Unlike myself who's hair was jet black and curly, except my bangs which were pin straight. AUTHOR: “There’s only one thing in this world straight enough for my comparison.” I was wearing a sex pistols band tee (How the frick old is this girl?), with red jean ripped knee length shorts. It was a point of pride that anyone could look at me and instantly see my complete lack of fashion sense and musical taste. My high top converse were on my feet as always, and I was wearing black sleeveless leather jacket over it. Is it just me, or did it suddenly get a lot more douchey in here?
I pushed the piece of hair that I was behind my hair back into place-can’t-sentence-properly-and walked out when the director called a five minute break. YOU’RE ALREADY OUTSIDE!
I walked over to the brothers, seeing if they'd recognize me. They raised an eyebrow at me, then looked at each other.
"Are you here to change our wardrobe?" Jason asked, as a crew of makeup team came over to fix their makeup. This is the least subtle euphemism for “gang-bang” I’ve ever seen.
I mentally laughed at that. I'd have to tease Shane for that later. He said if he ever got famous he'd never wear makeup, but he allowed them. Practical conventions? How dare he!
I shook my head, "Nope," I stated, blankly staring at them. “It’s almost like…like she’s trying to speak to us, guys!”
Shane looked at his brothers, stepping forward, being the 'brave' one, (“How come we never get to use MY special power?” “Because no one ever needs ‘The Bedwetting One,’ Jason.” "Then.. Why are you at our house, and how did you get in?" He asked me.
I sighed, and went into my acting mode as best as I could without laughing, "I climbed your fence, got past your body guards, and here I am, ready to kidnap you," I smiled, a fake smile obviously. I wish she weren’t kidding, because whatever alternate timeline this occurs in is far more interesting than the one we’re in now.
Shane's eyes widened, "SECURITY!" He yelled. I pursed my lips together as two security guards lifted me up, bringing me outside of the gates. Yalp, that’s a brave young lad you got there. Does he get his mother to kill spiders for him? They set me on the ground and the gates shut.
I sighed, leaning against the tall wall. Your sense of poetry knows no bounds, Author Dearest. I guess I was going to have to wait until Denise, Frankie or Big Rob came out here. Having no background on “Big Rob,” I choose to believe he’s either the crochety old gardener or the giant bodyguard with a secret heart of gold.
Two hours later Denise (<-- fairy godmother) came out and stared down at me, "Sweetie.. What are you doing out here?" She asked me, helping me up.
I sighed, "I decided to joke with the boys because they didn't know who I was, so they kicked me out about two hours ago and I've been sitting here ever since. I said I climbed the fence, got passed the guards, and was there to kidnap them," I looked away as we walked back inside. (Fun fact: since 2007, the Jonas Brothers have survived more assassination attempts than Fidel Castro.)
Denise only growled, "How could they do that to you? I taught them better than that!" “I raised my boys to be POLITE idiots!” She sighed, "I'm really sorry Mitch.. Why don't you go into the kitchen and sit down at the table. Dinner will be ready in a minute," She said, walking into the kitchen with me.
I sat down at the table, putting my head in my hands. This was a great way to start off my summer. Make my three old best friends think I'm some crazy stalker. Not to mention I was sent here because of my..Uh..Problem.. See, she says that, but I have this ominous feeling that she’s going to mention it anyway. (SPOILER ALERT: she has bulimia. Yes, I read ahead.)
Denise put the food down at the table and called for dinner. She looked at me, "So.. Dear.. How is your..Uh..Problem coming along?" She asked me softly, biting her lip. “Are you down to 100 yet? Because you know I won’t love you until I can see each one of your ribs.”
I sighed, looking up, tears in my eyes, "Not good. I can't seem to stop myself.. Every time I try it's like my mind over takes me," I whispered, wiping my eyes. Yeah, minds’ll do that. I'm glad I didn't wear makeup unless I was on a date or special occasions. “Oh, this old thing? It’s just another of my defining character traits. I barely noticed I’d dropped in that random paragraph.”
She looked at me, sympathetically, "Sweetie.. That's why you were sent here.. We are going to help you," She said, placing her hand gently on top of mine. “Sure, you could have gone to a clinic, but let’s be practical-you’re much better off here with three mildly attractive boys your own age to constantly scrutinize you!”
I smiled at her, gratefully, "Thank you.. So much.. You are the first person who has said that," I told her, truthfully. “My mother told me I’d be thinner if I worried less about grades, and my school counselor just gave me laxatives.”
The boys walked in with Paul. Paul sat down, smiling at me. It was me, Denise, Paul, Jason, Tank, Shane then Nate. In that order when they sat down. Remember, the murderer was sitting next to Shane and opposite Nate and was facing a window, and the table is round.
They looked at me, their eyes widening, "What is she doing here? We kicked her out earlier!" Jason yelled, glaring at me.
Shane nodded, "Yeah, she said she was going to kidnap us," He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at me. Glaring is occurring. Duly noted, Author.
Nate added to what he said, "She said she also jumped the fence, got past the guards to come see us." He glared. The Glaring Brothers is also a constellation visible only in the southern hemisphere.
I smiled sheepishly at Paul and Denise who shook their heads. I hope they weren't mad at me. Big Rob walked into the room, sitting down across from Paul. You eat with the gardener? He smiled at me, looking around the table.
Frankie rolled his eyes, "You guys are so stupid!" He said, laughing.
They turned their attention away from me, glaring at him now. Pour boy. Kind of early to be drinking, isn’t it? "What are you talking about?" Shane sneered.
Frankie glared back, not phased, "You really don't have a clue to who she is do you?" He asked them, shaking his head. “I HAVE CLUE!”
They didn't say anything, so they obviously didn't know.
Frankie looked at me, and mouthed, "Sing Shadow." Please don’t.
I shook my head, mouthing back to him, "NO! I am not singing. The last time time I sang they made fun of me for it!" “I lost you on ‘am.’ Long sentences don’t work so well nonverbally.”
He rolled his eyes, mouthing again, "Sing.. Shadow!" “THEY CAN’T HEAR US WE ARE SO SECRET!” I sighed, nodding. I had too because introducing myself was clearly out.
"Sentences of yours, running throughout my head, searching for a chance to catch my breath.
A never ending dream, you'll become a part of me.
Day or night, dark or light, you'll be.
Taking over that thing called my shadow.
Oh."
The enthusiasm floors me.
I glared at Tank, "Happy?" I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest.
He grinned, nodding, "Very," He said, laughing. He turned to the guys, "Now, you better know who she is," He said.
Their jaw dropped as they stared at me. Simultaneously they all said, "Mitchie?" The implication being that she sings like she’s eight.
I nodded, giving them my famous wide grin. Articles had been written, phrases coined, deaths gone bravely toward, for the sake of my famous wide grin. I rolled my eyes, turning it down to a small smile, "Yes it is me. I changed. A lot. I don't have braces, my pig tails are gone, my hair isn't brown, I'm wearing punk clothes. I'm different," I said, shrugging. “Deal with it, yo.”
After that, different was ate in peace. I give up. Questions were asked here and there, and I politely answered them.
After dinner, I had the urge to go puke myself. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to vomit all down my front.” After I helped clean the table, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.
Denise stopped me. She shook her head, pointing firmly to the couch. She stared me down until I went and sat down.
I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning, "Denise.. What happens if I really have to go to the bathroom?" I asked her.
“Suck it up. Ever wondered what urine poisoning feels like? Wonder no longer!”
"Someone will go in with you to make sure you don't do it.. Most likely me," She said, staring at me. “Besides, I’m fascinated by other people’s bowel movements.”
I looked away, sighing. The boys were sitting there confused. They obviously wanted to know what was going on, and I guess it's now or never or later on, maybe.
I stood up, glaring at them, "You want to know whats wrong with me? “No.” I'm bulimic!" I said to them, running upstairs to the room Denise decorated for me. It was beautiful. “I’m slowly killing myself with this horrible eating disor-ooh, shiny!”