us, and make us see how grateful we should be for all that we had. It wasn’t until we were a year into being pop stars and miniature divas; however, that I saw how much it had changed both of us. It was a rude wakeup call for me.
***
We sat in a burger joint, dressed as Jazzy and Melody. We had just finished a concert and the record label wanted us to shop around for a while as our alter egos. I don’t really know why, most of the time people knew who we were without the wigs and clothes that told them we were the pink and blue haired duo. It might’ve had something to do with the dolls that they planned on selling the week after that day. We had finally reached the big leagues of tween success with dolls that looked just like us.
The paparazzi stood outside, waiting to take pictures of us through the glass. We also weren’t the only stars in the restaurant that day. The hot sensation boy band, Heart Maps, was there too. The tabloids were hoping to catch one of us cuddling up with one of the boys like an innocent crush. It had been gossiped for months that Mia and I were wanting to date one of the five members. I hadn’t even turned fourteen yet, I didn’t want to date yet and even if I did, I didn’t want it broadcast all over the rumor mill.
A little girl walked up to our table, she couldn’t have been older than six. She was cautious and looked back at her mother several times before coming fully up to the table. I smiled at her. Her shyness was adorable. “Yes?” I asked, with a smile. I knew a picture of this moment was going to be taken and would earn us brownie points among parents of children three and up.
She smiled and held up a teddy bear along with a black marker. “Will you please sign my teddy bear?”
“Of course,” I took the teddy from her and used the marker to sign my name. I then handed both to Mia. She sighed heavily and I could imagine her rolling her eyes behind her pair of sunglasses. With a jerk and a huff, she pulled the teddy roughly from my grasp and signed her name. She handed it to the girl without a word and would have almost dropped the thing on the floor if the girl hadn’t caught it.
The little girl looked and Mia with a look I can only describe as broken hearted, slowly her eyes met mine and something in me switched at that moment. It was as if I realized it wasn’t all about me anymore, children looked up to me and I needed to set an example. “Thank you,” she said softly to me before running back to her mother.
For months, I had been walking around as if my farts didn’t stink. I would throw tantrums if I wasn’t given the right brand of bottled water, or I was asked to do something I didn’t like. I had acted as if everyone, except Mia, was below me. I did it all because I had gone from having nothing, but a black trash bag, to having the addictive power of a pop star that got anything and everything she requested. No one was there to tell me no, or humble me and tell me to get my head out of my butt when I was acting like an overly spoiled brat.
It took having to see my sister treat a little girl like dog crap she scraped off her shoe. To understand that I had become something I had at one time no desire to be. For a thirteen-year-old, it had been one of those moments where a brief moment of clarity and maturity had settled in my brain, even though its stay wouldn’t be long.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked in a high whisper. I sat forward, pulling off my sunglasses.
She gave me a look and a shrug of arms as if she had no idea what I was talking about. “What?” Before I could say anything about how she had treated the little girl, she took a bite of burger and promptly spit it out. I wrinkled my nose. “Idiots!” she snapped.
“What? Did you find like a finger or something?” I looked at her food, but it looked fine to me.
My words went unheard as she snapped her fingers and called
***
We sat in a burger joint, dressed as Jazzy and Melody. We had just finished a concert and the record label wanted us to shop around for a while as our alter egos. I don’t really know why, most of the time people knew who we were without the wigs and clothes that told them we were the pink and blue haired duo. It might’ve had something to do with the dolls that they planned on selling the week after that day. We had finally reached the big leagues of tween success with dolls that looked just like us.
The paparazzi stood outside, waiting to take pictures of us through the glass. We also weren’t the only stars in the restaurant that day. The hot sensation boy band, Heart Maps, was there too. The tabloids were hoping to catch one of us cuddling up with one of the boys like an innocent crush. It had been gossiped for months that Mia and I were wanting to date one of the five members. I hadn’t even turned fourteen yet, I didn’t want to date yet and even if I did, I didn’t want it broadcast all over the rumor mill.
A little girl walked up to our table, she couldn’t have been older than six. She was cautious and looked back at her mother several times before coming fully up to the table. I smiled at her. Her shyness was adorable. “Yes?” I asked, with a smile. I knew a picture of this moment was going to be taken and would earn us brownie points among parents of children three and up.
She smiled and held up a teddy bear along with a black marker. “Will you please sign my teddy bear?”
“Of course,” I took the teddy from her and used the marker to sign my name. I then handed both to Mia. She sighed heavily and I could imagine her rolling her eyes behind her pair of sunglasses. With a jerk and a huff, she pulled the teddy roughly from my grasp and signed her name. She handed it to the girl without a word and would have almost dropped the thing on the floor if the girl hadn’t caught it.
The little girl looked and Mia with a look I can only describe as broken hearted, slowly her eyes met mine and something in me switched at that moment. It was as if I realized it wasn’t all about me anymore, children looked up to me and I needed to set an example. “Thank you,” she said softly to me before running back to her mother.
For months, I had been walking around as if my farts didn’t stink. I would throw tantrums if I wasn’t given the right brand of bottled water, or I was asked to do something I didn’t like. I had acted as if everyone, except Mia, was below me. I did it all because I had gone from having nothing, but a black trash bag, to having the addictive power of a pop star that got anything and everything she requested. No one was there to tell me no, or humble me and tell me to get my head out of my butt when I was acting like an overly spoiled brat.
It took having to see my sister treat a little girl like dog crap she scraped off her shoe. To understand that I had become something I had at one time no desire to be. For a thirteen-year-old, it had been one of those moments where a brief moment of clarity and maturity had settled in my brain, even though its stay wouldn’t be long.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked in a high whisper. I sat forward, pulling off my sunglasses.
She gave me a look and a shrug of arms as if she had no idea what I was talking about. “What?” Before I could say anything about how she had treated the little girl, she took a bite of burger and promptly spit it out. I wrinkled my nose. “Idiots!” she snapped.
“What? Did you find like a finger or something?” I looked at her food, but it looked fine to me.
My words went unheard as she snapped her fingers and called
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