Billie Jean

The booming sounds of rhythmic beats pound in Westlake Studio A as agrifoglio sits at the mixing board. Her long hair pulled back in a ponytail as the fan are on full blast to beat out the hot Californian summer heat wave of 1979. Even in her margherita duke shorts and tank top, she can still feel her skin sticking to the vinyl chair. As the beats go she sits with paper in front of her and writes corresponding lyrics that come to her, sometimes humming, others Canto out loud. The time in her studio was her saving grace lately; especially her and Michael haven’t been as close lately, not da Michael’s...

Jaycee's P.O.V.

I grunt while dragging my drunken sister Jada out of the bar. My hand is shoved in my gonna pocket, shuffling around for the keys to my Ford Cantina. Times like this is when I wish that Jada was never my sister. She's an underage drinker and my mom has done nothing to stop it. It's not like she would anyway; she's always with her ' boyfriend ' James.

When I opened the car door, I slid Jada in the backseat, when she starts to mumble under her breath. As I come closer, her breath hits me in the face 5 secondi before her face was close to mine.

My nose crinkles up in disgust before...