//------------------------------// // The Instagram-Famous Pop Star // Story: Mareitime Academy Diaries // by Mica //------------------------------// Oh, Pipp Petals. In another world, perhaps I’d be dating a rich, beautiful, Instagram-famous, teen pop star like you. An opposite parallel universe, that is. A total opposite universe. I shouldn’t be talking to her. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. She and I are in totally different cliques. She’s famous. Real-world famous. I'm definitely not. But by some magic, I am talking to her. I’m in the library, sitting in the chair directly adjacent to hers. I love watching her livestreams or listening to her songs when I have the time to. I’m mostly a country music guy, but when I listen to her songs, I can’t help but shake my booty. (Sorry for imprinting that image in your head now.) And here I am. In the same school as her. Talking to her. Working on a school project with her. “Pipp, did you finish your slides for the presentation?” I ask. Silence. “Pipp?” “Pipp?” “Oh my gosh, hold up, I need to do promotion cause my new single releases in two days,” she mumbles and texts a few emojis. Then she looks up. “Sorry, what were you saying?” “The history presentation. That’s why we’re meeting up, right?” “Oh…right.” Pipp pulls out her laptop and opens up the shared presentation. She hasn’t even started, and it’s due next Tuesday. She hastily types a few bullets on slide 7. She’s got 6 more slides to fill. I watch as Arial font words appear on the screen. “Renaissance Italy? Pipp, this presentation is about Ancient Greece.” “I don’t know, Hitch!” she places her palm on her forehead. “I read chapter 9 instead of chapter 4 ‘cause I didn’t read the assignment properly. So sue me, okay?” “You signed the sheet in class saying that you did the correct reading. That’s dishonest, you know.” “Well, I’m used to it. I’m used to being dishonest, I’m like dishonest with literally like my whole dishonest life,” she mumbles as she hastily reads a page about Ancient Greece she found off Google. She’s a horrible partner for a school assignment. She’s out of school half the time, doing tours or recordings or whatever. And then many nights, she’s locked in her dorm room doing livestreams. Or she’s taking selfies or posting on social media. In the past hour we’ve been meeting in person, she’s spoken to me more through my social media notifications than actual dialog. New single Glowin’ Up, out on iTunes tomorrow! What’s up my Pipp-squeaks? Hope you’re having a fabulous day~! UwU See me live at the #ZHMusicFestival this Saturday, last-minute tickets still available!!! Click this affiliate link for a discount, sponsored by Parfum La Pipp! I suppose for her it’s work, but I still don’t understand it. How is making a duck face at a camera more important “work” than writing up slides for a history presentation? If it was anyone other than Pipp, they’d be kicked out of school. It’s just not fair. Just because Pipp’s mother is Haven, she gets special treatment from the school administration. Yeah, I’m talking about that Haven. Haven, the heiress of a global mining empire worth billions of dollars. Haven, the biggest donor to the school’s endowment, and a long-serving member of the Board of Trustees. In the dorms, Pipp and her sister Zipp have private single rooms even larger than the standard double, while all the other girls in Mareitime Academy have roommates. Pipp misses school to go on “family trips” to the beach without giving 24 hours prior notice, like it stipulates in the student handbook (am I the only one who actually reads it?) And meanwhile, Sunny had to wait two months for the principal to finally grant her permission to go back to Mareitime Bay every other weekend to put flowers on her father’s grave. You know how they say, never meet your heroes? I have no respect for Pipp as a person. I just like her music. I like her as a star. I bookmark the affiliate link to open up later. Pipp looks up from her laptop after just 90 seconds of typing for the history project. “Oh my gosh, Hitch, do you wanna listen to my new single?” “Well, I think that we should work on—” She shoves the phone to my ear anyway. Glowin' up kind of love, Dip and slide through the cut, Glowin' up kind of love, We say “Hi”, you say “What?” I’m on one of those swivel chairs. And I’m swinging side to side. Shaking my booty. Heh. I mean, it’s a nice song. I guess. (Gosh, I’m such a hypocrite.) Still, ever since I heard Sunny singing that song she wrote the other night…I’ve realized that there’s some missing about Pipp’s singing, that Sunny’s has. Even if Pipp has more raw vocal power and pitch accuracy. I don’t know why. I just know that I’d rather hear Sunny’s slightly-out-of-tune singing about friendship and unicorns. Which just sounds stupid, coming from a guy like me. Speaking of which, Pipp asks me, “Oh, did Sunny say whether she was gonna audition for Forgotten Friendship or not?” I’m surprised she even mentions it. I’d think given her personality, and after all her success in showbiz, she’d scoff at a little school musical like the one at Mareitime Academy. “She…Sunny said she’s too busy this year to do the musical,” I simply say. “Oh, how come?” she presses. “I…I’m not sure.” I lie. It seems ridiculous even when I just say it. A children’s book about colorful ponies. Like Pipp would even care. If I told her, she’d probably laugh at her in her 4 million follower Instagram famous laugh. And I wouldn’t let Sunny’s feelings be indirectly hurt like that. That’s the reason why I’m lying to Pipp. “She just said she’s not doing it this year,” I reiterate. “Well, that’s a shame. Cause, oh my gosh, Sunny was like so good as Maria von Trapp last year.” Last year, the Academy did a production of The Sound of Music. Pipp was the student director. “Oh my gosh, now I think about it, why don’t you audition, Hitch? Like, we really need an actual guy to play the guy roles. Gloomy Sonnet’s the student director for Forgotten Friendship this year, and she told me…” “Wait, you’re not the student director anymore?” She shakes her head. “Nuh-unh. I’m not doing the school musical at all this year.” “Why not?” Suddenly her popstar smile disappears. “I…I can’t talk about it. Legal stuff, you know.” I haven’t heard any clues from her previous livestreams, either. “All I can say is I’m only allowed to do recruiting for the school musical. Which is why I’m recruiting you to audition, Hitch.” She gently boops my shoulder with her finger. I can still feel the residual pressure from her finger. Her actual, live, breathing, finger. “Well, I…” “I mean, I get it. If you’re nervous, there’s a huge range of roles that you could try out for. Like, a background townsperson or something.” “Erm, I…I just can’t wrap my head around performing on a stage in front of everyone.” Posing for pictures, or I guess pre-recording something, that’s totally fine for me. But when you’re on the stage, there’s no room for error. No retakes. No way to cover up a mistake. Everyone’s watching. “Oh, c’mon Hitch. Don’t be nervous. If there’s one person who knows all about stage fright, it’s me. When I first started getting into showbiz I was, like, terrified of performing. And the best way to get past it is to just get out there, strut your stuff, groove with the loud thumping in your heart, and believe in yourself! You can do it! Come on!” “Well—” “Well, I won’t take no for an answer! See you at auditions Monday night~!” I was actually gonna say yes, for the record. But Pipp cut me off. The bell rings, and the free period ends. “Oh, gotta go! Toodles~!” Pipp grabs her backpack and escapes the library like the bell is a fire alarm, humming “Glowin’ Up” to herself. I look back at my laptop screen. The first slide on Homer and the Iliad looks pretty good, but she’s still got 6 more slides to do. And the presentation’s next Tuesday. That lazy, no-good b… …blowhard. Why am I still entranced by the way her skirt moves when she sashays down the hall? And why is that Glowin' Up song still stuck in my head?