3RD PERSON'S POV
Orange stood in front of her mirror, running a hand through her light blue hair. She had dyed it on a whim last summer, and the color had stuck, becoming something of her signature look. It contrasted sharply with her pale skin and dark eyes, making her stand out in any crowd. She pulled on a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized hoodie, the comfortable attire hiding her lean, muscular frame. She didn't care much for fashion, preferring to blend into the background. Orange had always found comfort in simplicity, and her choice of clothes reflected that desire to go unnoticed, even as her hair defied that aim.
Grabbing her electric guitar, she slung it over her shoulder and headed downstairs. Ellie was already at the breakfast table, munching on a piece of toast and scrolling through her phone. The morning light streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow over the room and highlighting the subtle bond between the sisters.
"Morning, rock star," Ellie said with a grin, looking up from her screen. Her eyes sparkled with admiration, a stark contrast to her casual greeting.
"Morning, Ellie," Orange replied, ruffling her sister's hair as she walked past. "Feeling better?" There was genuine concern in her voice, a testament to their close relationship.
"A little. Thanks again for last night. That poster is the best thing ever." Ellie's face lit up as she spoke, and Orange couldn't help but smile at her sister's enthusiasm.
Orange smiled. "I'm glad you like it. Now hurry up and finish your breakfast. Don't want to be late for school." She took a bite of the apple she had grabbed from the counter, savoring the crisp sweetness, a small moment of pleasure in her otherwise busy morning.
Ellie nodded, taking a big bite of her toast. Orange grabbed an apple from the counter and took a bite, savoring the crisp sweetness. She glanced at the clock and realized they needed to leave soon.
"Come on, let's go," she said, grabbing her backpack and heading for the door. Ellie followed, still chewing her toast. The routine was comforting, a familiar rhythm that set the tone for their day.
The drive to school was uneventful, the morning traffic moving along at a steady pace. Orange parked the car and they both headed inside, splitting up as they went to their respective classes. The school halls were bustling with students, each lost in their own worlds, but Orange moved through them with a quiet determination.
Orange's first class of the day was music. She walked into the band room, greeted by the familiar sight of instruments and sheet music scattered everywhere. Her bandmates were already there, tuning their instruments and chatting amongst themselves. The chaotic environment felt like home to her, a place where she could lose herself in the music.
"Hey, Orange," called out Max, the drummer. "Ready to rock?" His enthusiasm was infectious, and Orange felt a surge of excitement as she nodded.
"Always," Orange replied with a smirk. She plugged in her guitar and strummed a few chords, the sound reverberating through the room. The rest of the band joined in, and soon they were lost in the music. The notes blended together, creating a powerful harmony that filled the room with energy.
Orange played with a skill and intensity that left her bandmates in awe. Her fingers danced across the strings, producing riffs and solos that seemed to come from another world. She was in her element, completely absorbed in the music. The rest of the band followed her lead, their instruments blending together in perfect harmony. The synergy between them was palpable, a testament to their hard work and dedication.
They played through several songs, each one more powerful than the last. When they finally stopped, the room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the lingering echoes of their music. The silence that followed was a stark contrast to the intense performance, a moment of calm after the storm.
"That was amazing," said Sarah, the bassist. "You were on fire, Orange." Her admiration was clear, and Orange felt a sense of pride at her friend's words.
"Thanks," Orange replied, wiping the sweat from her brow. "You guys weren't too bad yourselves." They all laughed, the camaraderie between them palpable. The bond they shared went beyond the music, a deep connection forged through countless hours of practice and performance.
As they packed up their instruments, the door to the band room opened, and in walked Rodora. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the unexpected visitor. Rodora looked as stunning as ever, her leather outfit hugging her curves and her light blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her confident stride commanded attention. The sight of her was a stark contrast to the familiar surroundings of the band room.
"Hey, everyone," Rodora said with a smile. "Hope I'm not interrupting." Her voice was smooth, with an edge of playful arrogance that made her presence impossible to ignore.
"Rodora?" Max said, his voice filled with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" The shock was evident in his tone, mirroring the surprise of everyone in the room.
Rodora's smile widened. "Just visiting. Thought I'd check out the local talent." Her gaze swept over the room, assessing each of them with a critical eye. The atmosphere was charged with tension, a mix of awe and curiosity.
Orange's eyes narrowed, but she remained unbothered. She had no idea why Rodora was here, and she wasn't particularly interested in finding out. She continued packing up her guitar, ignoring the excited whispers that had broken out among her bandmates. To her, Rodora was just another distraction, a fleeting presence in her otherwise focused life.
"You're all really good," Rodora continued, her gaze sweeping over the room. "Especially you," she said, locking eyes with Orange. "That was some impressive playing." There was a hint of genuine admiration in her voice, but Orange wasn't swayed.
"Thanks," Orange replied curtly, not looking up from her guitar case. Her indifference was a shield, a way to protect herself from the chaos that Rodora represented.
Rodora raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Orange's lack of enthusiasm. "What's your name?" Her curiosity was piqued, and she seemed determined to get a reaction.
"Orange," she replied, finally meeting Rodora's gaze. "And you already know that." There was a challenge in her eyes, a silent dare for Rodora to back off.
Rodora chuckled, the sound low and throaty. "Right. We met last night, didn't we? How's your sister?" Her tone was casual, but there was an underlying edge that hinted at deeper intentions.
"She's fine," Orange said, her tone flat. "Thanks for asking." She didn't want to give Rodora the satisfaction of knowing how much she cared.
Rodora took a step closer, her eyes never leaving Orange's. "You know, you have real talent. Have you ever thought about going pro?" There was a genuine offer in her words, but Orange wasn't interested.
Orange shrugged. "I'm happy where I am." Her focus was on her music and her family, and she had no desire to change that.
Rodora's smile didn't falter, but there was a hint of challenge in her eyes. "Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know. I could help you get there." Her offer was sincere, but Orange wasn't swayed.
"Thanks, but no thanks," Orange replied, zipping up her guitar case. "I'm not interested." Her rejection was final, a clear statement of her priorities.
Rodora's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Fair enough. But if you ever do, the offer stands." She turned to leave, but not before giving Orange one last lingering look. "See you around." Her departure left a void in the room, a sense of something unfinished.
As Rodora walked out of the room, the excited whispers resumed, everyone buzzing about the unexpected visit. Orange remained unbothered, her focus already shifting back to her guitar and the next song they would play. The interruption was a minor blip in her day, easily forgotten in the flow of her routine.
"Can you believe that?" Max said, his eyes wide with excitement. "Rodora, here, in our school!" His disbelief mirrored the thoughts of everyone in the room.
"Yeah, it's pretty wild," Sarah agreed. "And she was totally into your playing, Orange." Her admiration was clear, but Orange wasn't interested in the attention.
Orange shrugged. "Whatever. Let's just focus on the music." Her tone was firm, a reminder of what truly mattered to her.
The rest of the band nodded, and they quickly fell back into their routine. The unexpected visit from Rodora was already fading into the background, just another blip in their day. The music was their anchor, a constant in the midst of any chaos.
As they played on, Orange couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She didn't care about Rodora's fame or her wild lifestyle. What mattered to her was the music and the joy it brought to her and her sister. And that was more than enough. The simplicity of her desires was a stark contrast to the complexity of the world around her.
Orange sat alone on the bleachers during lunch, her guitar resting beside her. The school courtyard buzzed with the usual chatter and laughter, but she found solace in the quiet corner she had claimed as her own. She took a bite of her sandwich, her thoughts drifting back to Rodora's unexpected visit earlier that day. The memory was a faint echo, easily pushed aside.
It wasn't the first time their paths had crossed. Years ago, before Rodora had skyrocketed to fame, they had both been part
of the same local music scene. Back then, Rodora was just another aspiring musician, and Orange had been one of the few who had seen her potential. They had played together in a few gigs, their styles meshing well. But as Rodora's star began to rise, their paths had diverged. The memories were tinged with nostalgia, a reminder of simpler times.
Orange had been content to stay in the background, focusing on her music and her family, while Rodora had chased the spotlight with relentless ambition. They had lost touch, and Orange hadn't given it much thought since. She had no interest in the fame and drama that seemed to follow Rodora everywhere. The distance between them was a choice, a way to protect herself from the chaos of Rodora's world.
But she didn't want to remember anything anymore. The memories were a burden, a weight she didn't need.
In the back of her mind, she wanted to bury Rodora dead. Like Rodora never existed in her life before. The thought was a comfort, a way to reclaim her peace.
**********