The Lighter That Shone Like A Star (Story of The South) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Dan Cash
to wear that morning.
He slumped on the end of his oversized bed and picked up his ScribblePad. As always, he had hundreds of Scribbles waiting for him from fans, all of them hoping he would reply and acknowledge their existence.
Haze scrolled through the most recent, each asking him either to scribble to them, to subscribe to them, or to wish them a happy birthday. Every so often he would stumble across a hateful or offensive message but he had mastered the difficult art of ignoring them.
The young man scribbled a short message, ‘Back home with the boys, busy week! Thank you all for your support I love you x’ and the little blue flashing light at the top of his device immediately started to alert him that he had new Scribbles. He placed his ScribblePad face down on his bed and sauntered back to the living room to join his band mates.
The other four boys were each sprawled across chairs and sofas, too tired to move or hold a conversation. It had undoubtedly been one of the busiest weeks of their career so far. They had not long released their second single and were required to appear on every radio and television chat show in The South to promote their music and themselves. This meant that they were under constant surveillance by the media, the paparazzi, and their fans.
Each appearance included an interview and most demanded a live acoustic performance of their song. Initially, the boys were immensely excited and keen to get started but after a week of travelling back and forth all over the lands, being ushered around by security to avoid being mobbed by screaming fans, and singing the same song around ten times a day, the boys were ready to sleep for the next week.
They knew this would not be possible, though, because the following week would be their final stretch of tour rehearsals.
Haze looked at his four best friends. Their dream had come true, but at that moment it felt like they were living in a distorted nightmare.
“Boys,” Haze started, “Shall we just order pizza tonight?” They all mumbled in agreement, so Haze dragged himself back to his bedroom to retrieve his ScribblePad whose blue light was still flashing at him. He searched for the nearest pizza delivery restaurant’s Scribbler page and pressed the call button.
The boys used to scribble to restaurants whenever they wanted food but their fans, seeing the Scribbles, soon began to gather outside the restaurants and follow the delivery drivers.
Unable to cope with a group of screaming girls outside their hotel and wanting to keep their home address as private as possible, whenever they wanted a takeaway they had stopped scribbling. Funnily, not long after, a ScribblePad update became available which meant Haze could use the device to call the pizzeria and order their five usual pizzas with five bottles of sweet cyder.
Upon re-entering the living room, the young man saw that the others were now on their ScribblePads too, scrolling through their day’s Scribbles. At the beginning, the boys used to try and reply to as many people as possible because they felt like they owed their fans a lot; without them, they would not have become famous. Now, that was an impossible task.
Just over a year had passed since their lives had changed.
Light on the Landing’s success started when they had been touring small venues around Hurburt in an attempt to become more well-known, mainly singing covers as well as a few songs that they had written.
They had managed to travel to as many as fifteen different towns and watched their ScribblePads in awe as their numbers of subscribers steadily rose from hundreds to thousands each.
Much of their time every day had been dedicated to scribbling back to their fans and they had even subscribed to some of them. When asked, the boys would say it was done randomly, but it was clear that their prettiest fans got most of the attention. The band considered this one of the many perks of their job.
After finishing the
He slumped on the end of his oversized bed and picked up his ScribblePad. As always, he had hundreds of Scribbles waiting for him from fans, all of them hoping he would reply and acknowledge their existence.
Haze scrolled through the most recent, each asking him either to scribble to them, to subscribe to them, or to wish them a happy birthday. Every so often he would stumble across a hateful or offensive message but he had mastered the difficult art of ignoring them.
The young man scribbled a short message, ‘Back home with the boys, busy week! Thank you all for your support I love you x’ and the little blue flashing light at the top of his device immediately started to alert him that he had new Scribbles. He placed his ScribblePad face down on his bed and sauntered back to the living room to join his band mates.
The other four boys were each sprawled across chairs and sofas, too tired to move or hold a conversation. It had undoubtedly been one of the busiest weeks of their career so far. They had not long released their second single and were required to appear on every radio and television chat show in The South to promote their music and themselves. This meant that they were under constant surveillance by the media, the paparazzi, and their fans.
Each appearance included an interview and most demanded a live acoustic performance of their song. Initially, the boys were immensely excited and keen to get started but after a week of travelling back and forth all over the lands, being ushered around by security to avoid being mobbed by screaming fans, and singing the same song around ten times a day, the boys were ready to sleep for the next week.
They knew this would not be possible, though, because the following week would be their final stretch of tour rehearsals.
Haze looked at his four best friends. Their dream had come true, but at that moment it felt like they were living in a distorted nightmare.
“Boys,” Haze started, “Shall we just order pizza tonight?” They all mumbled in agreement, so Haze dragged himself back to his bedroom to retrieve his ScribblePad whose blue light was still flashing at him. He searched for the nearest pizza delivery restaurant’s Scribbler page and pressed the call button.
The boys used to scribble to restaurants whenever they wanted food but their fans, seeing the Scribbles, soon began to gather outside the restaurants and follow the delivery drivers.
Unable to cope with a group of screaming girls outside their hotel and wanting to keep their home address as private as possible, whenever they wanted a takeaway they had stopped scribbling. Funnily, not long after, a ScribblePad update became available which meant Haze could use the device to call the pizzeria and order their five usual pizzas with five bottles of sweet cyder.
Upon re-entering the living room, the young man saw that the others were now on their ScribblePads too, scrolling through their day’s Scribbles. At the beginning, the boys used to try and reply to as many people as possible because they felt like they owed their fans a lot; without them, they would not have become famous. Now, that was an impossible task.
Just over a year had passed since their lives had changed.
Light on the Landing’s success started when they had been touring small venues around Hurburt in an attempt to become more well-known, mainly singing covers as well as a few songs that they had written.
They had managed to travel to as many as fifteen different towns and watched their ScribblePads in awe as their numbers of subscribers steadily rose from hundreds to thousands each.
Much of their time every day had been dedicated to scribbling back to their fans and they had even subscribed to some of them. When asked, the boys would say it was done randomly, but it was clear that their prettiest fans got most of the attention. The band considered this one of the many perks of their job.
After finishing the
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