tzei qui-capitol done

The tune of my song drifts up, up, up into my ears. In the recording studio, I sing into a micriphone loudly the lyrics to my newest song. My last song made me what you would call famous, but this one will help me to keep the fame that I cling onto so dearly. The world of music is a place not for the weak-hearted. It is for those who are willing to survive, because if you hesitate even for a second, the music world will bring you down and tear you limb from limb. You can go from being the largest star to the weakest supernova there ever was as you die, but you can also go from being a nothing to being a hypergiant star.

I suppose that's what happened with me. I was just a small singer, creating songs with my own home recording system, singing at different gigs around the capitol. Look at me now. After sending in a song to a record lable I am different. I am no longer the one to be called to singing at a small bar no one goes to anymore. Hell, I had a concert last week! A concert! It was even sold out! I was so surprised after I sent my music in that they accepted me into music big leagues!

My voice blares into the microphone, repeatong the lyrics shone in front of me which I supposedly wrote. After I became "famous" I was told I never needed to write my own music again. Just sing the music given to me. I find it sad though that I can no longer feel the joy of my hand scribbling on a page to compose a peice, never hear my voice singing what I wrote everywhere. This wasn't exactly how I pictured I would be when I was famous.

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I loung in a chair in my luxorious capitol penthouse, my long legs crossed one over the other as my eyes with my long eyelashes remain closed, tryjng to be oblivious to the world and just let the sound move through my ears. A breeze moves through an open window, ruffling my hair as I listen to the melody that I sang a few weeks ago that is now on air all over the capitol. As my song comes to and end I keep my eyes closed, but let my long graceful fingers switch off the radio. I continue sitting, my abnormally large ears picking up the noise from the hustle and bustle of a capitol street right outside my window.

My eyelids flutter open to reveal my bright red eyes that literally shown with small lights placed inside them, modified by the capitol's scientists after I asked for it to be done. Well, it was really my publicity agent who told me too do it. "It would make fans more enthusiastic about you." He said. I did mostly everything my publicity agent asked me to do really because he tried his best to get me publicity.

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I never really wanted to be the one up in front of a crowd all the time. I never wanted to be the one with adoring fans. Sure it is nice having fans and being famous, but when I started my career in music it was nothing more than a hobby. I wanted to sing for fun, not as a proffesion. Maybe I could do something good in the world by singing? That's what I thought. Then one day I sent a song in to a record company blah blah blah you get the gist of it. I was born more of an intellectual person than a singer. I grew up with a wealthy family who always expected more from me. They kept trying to push me to my limits with everything, including singing.

When I graduated high school with my flying colors, instead of doing what my family wanted me to do and go straight into college, I waited a year first. That was when I sent my song into the record company. Just before I was supposed to start college a year later than everyone else with my hopes down low of ever recieving an letter back from the record company, I got it! A message to go to a meeting there! You can guess what happened next.

I was actually really glad I became a singer. Even though I said I started out more of an intellectual than a singer(got good grades on tests blah blah blah), I never wanted to go to college at all. I never liked school despite getting those wonderful flying grades that my family wanted me to get, and I wanted to be out of it as soon as I could even if that meant disobeying my family and becoming a singer.

You might have seen me mention my family a few times now, but I will try to keep my story brief. My parents were both scientists that experimented with gene splicing to create mutts. You might have guessed already, but they wrre strict on me as their only child to uphold the family's "good name" in the world of science, so ever since a young age they were pressing my already good mind into "perfect shape." I don't really like to talk about my parents much though. Since I didn't go to colllege, before I left them we kind of had this huge fight about it and now I don't even speak to them, so let's just leave it at the fact that they were REALLY strict about my grades. A 95% or lower in any class had me grounded for a week.

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Well thats me. The singer with that "lovely voice everyone knows and loves." As advertised by my publicicist. But the real me is the one who just wants to sing to make people happy and try to do some good in the world of torture and pain amongst the districts.