"Kris! Chill yourself, woman!" Jessa, Kris's 18-year-old sister and band mate commanded. " I resent that comment! And by the way, you need to switch to decaf or something, cause anyone who didn't know you right now would assume you are insane!"
"Ugh!" Kris shrieked back at Jessa in frustration.
"She does have a point, though," Michelle, Kris' 12-year-old sister and also band mate, pointed out to the stylist. "That shirt'll make Jess look like she weighs about 85 pounds, and Kris's outfit is... just...I would have to say... bad. Really bad."
February, a new up-and-coming rock trio made up of the three sisters Kris, Jessa, and Michelle, was on a television show. As is obvious, Kris was not at all agreeing with the stylist. Any normal 14-year-old would do the same if they were nearly being forced to wear a fuchsia sundress and purple tights.
February was going to start their tour in a week, which made Kris a little more on edge than she normally was. Though Kris, who was the guitar player and co-singer of the band, was normally a totally unstoppable whirlwind of energy, performances still made her nervous. Knowing she was going to have to perform in front of thousands of people every few days made her nearly insane.
The frustrated stylist threw her hands up in surrender. "Fine!" she said. "Just wear whatever you want, why should I give a damn!"
"Alright!" Kris cheered. The trio advanced on the closet.
When they were finally done, they emerged from the dressing room with their chosen outfits.
Jessa had on a tight pair of Capri pants and a tan belly shirt.
Michelle had baggy jeans, and a black tee-shirt with a white stripe across the middle.
Kris had on a pair of baggy, black leather pants and a loose purple tank top, which had one of those name stickers on it. The sticker read: "Hello, My Name Is: Fuck". She also had on a pair of bright orange, high-heeled Doc Martens, to give a boost to her height of 5'1.
"Alright, makeup!" called a lady, blush brush in hand.
"Oh, no," groaned Kris.
*** *** ***
Kris stepped out of the makeup chair with tons of makeup caked on her face, though she had no blemishes except a scar on her cheek. Her short, bright dyed-orange hair was styled somehow so that it stuck out in every direction, though when it was down it reached her chin. Her eyes were, strangely, black, and very large, and were quite noticeable enough without makeup, but the makeup lady insisted on putting on gobs of eyeliner and mascara.
Her style, on or off the stage, could be described as unique. Kind of punkish, kind of odd. She had a bellybutton ring, a barbell in her tongue, five piercings in each ear, four tattoos, and a nose ring, though she hardly ever wore the last. Pants with multiple pockets and lots of zippers, leather, strange-colored Doc Martens, shirts with weird phrases and pictures on them, and odd jewelry for her many piercings, most of it in odd colors, made up a big part of her wardrobe.
Jessa and Michelle, too, had on far more makeup than was needed.
"Alright!" Michelle said. "We ready?"
"Sure, why the hell not," Jessa responded.
Suddenly, a man wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard burst into the room. "Come on, girls!" he yelled. "No time for chitchat, we've got a show to do, and it's nearly time for your entrance!"
*** *** ***
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill that interview lady!" Kris said through gritted teeth.
"God, Kris, you need to chill out!" Michelle laughed.
"How am I supposed to chill, 'Chelle? She treated me like I was fuckin' ten years old!"
"Well, I'll admit, she did treat you like a bit of a baby," Jessa said, "and she did get on my nerves a bit, but it wasn't so bad that you hafta kill her, Kris."
"I hate you, Jessa Leigh Macey. I really and truly hate you. I just wanna go home and get away from this crap," Kris moaned.
"Well, chill, cause we're goin' home tonight," Jessa told her.
"Yeah, but then we're going on tour in a week," Michelle reminded Jessa.
"Well, duh, it's kinda hard to forget that, you dumb ass!"
"Would you just shut the fuck up?" Kris said angrily. "I'm cranky and I'm tired and I wanna go home, dammit!"
"It's that time of the month again," Jessa said to Michelle in a stage whisper.
"You fuck-up!" Kris yelled, laughing and punching Jessa in the arm. She scowled at Kris.
"Ouch," Jessa mumbled, rubbing her arm. "You're mean."
"I know. I try."
*** *** ***
Kris fished around in her pockets, trying to find her wallet so she could buy a soda from the beat-up machine in the hallway. When she finally came up with the black leather contraption, she was almost startled by the picture of her and her two sisters. She had nearly forgotten that it was in there. The difference between the three was striking.
Michelle, the youngest, was of medium height and weight, with shoulder-length, straight, black hair and, oddly enough, black eyes. In the picture, she was wearing her favorite kind of clothes: comfortable. Slightly baggy jeans, worn sneakers, and a loose tee-shirt.
Jessa, the eldest, was tall, thin, and wiry, with long, wavy blond hair reaching past her waist and black eyes matching those of her sister. Her face was sweet-looking and she was lightly tanned. Jessa was wearing tight jean shorts, a light-blue belly shirt and--of all colors-- pink sneakers. She was the girl that most of the male fans preferred.
Kris, in the middle at fifteen, was short, at 5'1, with chin-length bright orange hair, which was originally the same color as Jessa's. Her eyes, though the same color as her two sisters', were larger and more noticeable. As mentioned before, Kris preferred a more odd and... well, offensive style of clothing, and she was wearing baggy black jeans and a black tee-shirt with the word "FUCKER" in large letters on the front.
Kris snapped back to attention and bought a soda from the wretched machine, then got on her way to the rehearsal room.
*** *** ***"No!" Kris howled. "This isn't happening to me! It can't happen to me!"
"Kris, would you please chill out?" Michelle requested.
"Yeah, Kris. Come on. It isn't that bad," Jessa told her. "I mean, I like them. Some of their stuff is really good, you know. Their last record--"
"No!" Kris interrupted with a yowl. "You just don't know how much this is going to suck! AUGH!"
Less than five minutes ago, February's agent had called the girls on Jessa's cell phone in the middle of a practice session in the Starr Rehearsal Studio. "Hey, good news!" he had told the girls happily. "You're touring with Hanson! This'll be great! I'll be there in five minutes! Luv ya, girls! Bye!" And with that he hung up. As a result, Kris was in the midst of throwing a hissy fit.
"It isn't fair!" Kris cried. "I won't do it! I will not do it!"