“Sorry, man,” Logan mumbles.
Dalton shrugs and picks up a menu. For the rest of the night, Logan and I make sure to talk about nothing but the band.
August 29
And Then There Were Three
Why, oh why does Logan Caldwell have to be taken?
It’s crazy. My mystery guy from New York was Dalton’s cousin and also happened to be a fantastic drummer. He’s now the third member of our band. The universe delivered him up to me on a silver platter…
And lo and behold, he’s got a girlfriend. A serious one.
I’m starting to think I’m cursed in the love department. First I go seventeen years without anyone knowing I existed at all. Then I get together with a guy my sister went out with first and had to break up with him. Now the one guy I was excited to see again is taken.
Really?
It’s probably for the best that there’s a roadblock between me and him for the sake of the band, but I dunno…it just would have been nice to have someone to dream about besides Gio for once.
The good news, and the thing I’m choosing to focus on right now, is that I’m one step closer to my dream. I know with Logan in the band our sound will start to emerge. A good drummer is a key ingredient in any successful rock group. He and I will need to work closely together, getting in sync with one another and feeding off each other’s enthusiasm. We have a strong vibe going on already, and even though I’ve been relegated to the friend zone, I think things are finally looking up. I can be happy about this. I know I can.
Well, as is typical, as soon as I try to be happy about something, the universe sends me a buzzkill. Raven messaged me just now that we have another interview here in L.A. to attend. I can hardly contain my joy.
Ttyl,
Mads
Me: Ugh, seriously? I thought we were done.
Raven: Yes, seriously. Thanks to you. They want to know how our twin bond is doing after the incident in London. They also want to talk to you about your “attitude.”
Me: Fantastic. Can I wear a shirt that says, “Bitches don’t get comments”?
Raven: If you do, I’ll wear a shirt that says, “I’m with stupid.”
I snicker out loud. That’s the first time she’s ever made me laugh.
Me: Duly noted. I suppose if I’m forced.
Raven: You are.
I lock my phone, sigh, and stretch out on my bed. The very last thing I want to do is face the media again right now. Maybe I can get “sick” the day of and have an excuse to get out of it.
I laugh to myself. I’m not even in school yet, and I’m already playing hooky.
Here I am again, sitting on a pristine leather couch with Raven’s arm glued around me. This time, I can’t even fake excitement. After the London incident, I royally pissed off the media, and now I have no assurance they’re going to make even the slightest move to spare me. When I entered the Spill! Online Headquarters here in L.A., I walked into a lions’ den. They can’t wait to rip me apart from head to toe and feast on me.
The brown-haired hipster dude interviewing us crosses his legs in his seat and adjusts his big black glasses. His lips grow into a manufactured smile that reminds me of the Grinch. We exchange polite greetings and then the interrogation begins.
“The last time Spill! saw you two, you were adjusting extremely well to your new lives. Can you tell us a little bit about how your relationship has changed since then?”
Real answer? None. It hasn’t changed one single bit in its inherent fakeness or awkwardness. Raven’s answer:
“We’ve become closer than ever through the month’s events.” Her voice is so sweet and smooth, it’s sickening. She hugs me so closely I get a burst of her rosy perfume and nearly gag. “Madison knows she has my full support no matter what.”
“That’s good to hear. Tell us, Madison, what happened that night in London?”
My face feels wooden. I try to crack a smile, but I can’t, so instead I keep up the hardened image.
“I was dumb and got drunk. That’s really all there was to it.”
“What you heard that night wasn’t her true voice,” Raven adds. “Michael and Madison Daley both have the same problem when they’re drunk: Their natural talent goes to sleep. I promise you, she actually sings quite beautifully.”
The interviewer’s face lights up. Finally, something he can work with.
“So really you are a musician, then?” He leans forward in his seat with hungry eagerness.
Talking about music always melts me like butter in the July sun. I soften in spite of myself. “Yeah, I am. My friend and I are starting a band together.”
“Really? Soon?”
“Yes. We have three members and we’re holding auditions for the fourth soon.”
“Who are you missing?”
“Just a bassist.” “That must be very exciting.” His tone almost sounds genuine now.
I finally loosen up enough to smile. “It is. I can’t wait to get things up and running.”
“You seem like a girl who can get things done. I can tell you definitely have a strong personality.”
I laugh out loud. That was his nice way of saying I’m a brat who flips off the paparazzi. “I definitely do.”
“Would you say you and your sister both have a rebellious streak?”
Oh man…another loaded question. I hurt my brain thinking up a quick way to dodge it. “Only in the best way.”
“Do you think your wildness has anything to do with the dream of being a rock star?”
I bristle and return to my previous icy self. I’m really getting tired of that word. I told the world the truth about me my first time on television, and now I guess it’s time to remind them of it. I lean forward in my seat and demand the interviewer’s deep brown gaze with my eyes.
“For the record, I am not wild. I’m more awkward and clueless than wild, but every mistake I make teaches me something. I’m just trying my best to survive here. Please stop calling me the ‘wild twin.’ I’m kind of over that label.”
My bold affront causes the interviewer to draw back in shock. He clears his throat, and I can read his thoughts in his eyes:
That statement is definitely not going on record.
September 1
Curse You Spill! Online
Another interview with Spill! Online just went live. During the interview, in no uncertain terms, I told them to stop referring to me as “the wild twin.” Here’s exactly what I said to them:
“For the record, I am not wild. I’m more awkward and clueless than wild, but every mistake I make teaches me something. I’m just trying my best to survive here. Please stop calling me the ‘wild twin.’ I’m kind of over that label.”
Here’s the edited answer they put on the website:
“I am wild, but every mistake I make teaches me something. I’m just trying my best to survive.”
Now instead of just being the wild twin, I’m the troubled twin who has issues from being abandoned by her celebrity mother. Everybody’s saying I’m going to go off the rails as soon as I’m out of Dad’s house on my own. Apparently I’m a delinquent, a hopeless cause just because of what Jess and the rest of the world did to me. No one cares what I really have to say. Websites and TV determine what they think about me.
I’ve given up trying to control what they say about me. It’s never going to happen. Dad keeps telling me he avoids the media like the plague and thinks I should too, and I’m starting to wish I had listened to him. Now that Raven owns me, I can’t follow that advice. Our entire deal was for the purpose of hyping ourselves up to the media.
I’ve already pissed her off enough. Maybe I should just lie low for a while.
Ttyl,
Mads
My text alert goes off five minutes after I submit my blog post. I groan as I turn over to answer it.
“What do you want now, you—”
The words die on my lips and are replaced with a smile. Logan Caldwell just texted
me for the first time.
Logan: Hey Madison! Just wanted to let you know I found an apartment in L.A. and Dalton is working on snagging me a bartender job. I have enough in savings to move and live there for a couple months so I’m going to go ahead and get started on that. Can’t wait to get there and start holding auditions for our final band mate. Thank you once again for this mind-blowing opportunity.
I recline on my pillows with one knee bent up and a stupid grin on my face. Never did I expect him to get things in order so fast. He must be even more excited than I am.
Me: Hey Logan! Wow, that’s awesome that you’ll be here so soon! Welcome to the band. We’re really stoked to have you.
Logan: I’m beyond stoked. I still can’t really believe this is happening.
Me: Me neither. My lifelong dream is becoming a reality.
Logan: That’s great! So you dreamed of being in a rock band even before you found out who your dad was?
Me: Yep, ever since I was ten.
Logan: Wow. Talk about destiny.
Me: Tell me about it. Hey, what are you up to right now?
Logan: Nothing much. Just chilling in my PJ’s.
My girl is out at a movie with her best friend.
Pain burns through me at having him call someone else “my girl.” Then my cheeks heat with embarrassment at the fact that I care. I shake off my crazy emotions.
Me: You in the mood to play some WoW?
Logan: Hell yeah! Give me just a minute.
Me: Okay :) I’ll go log on.
I still don’t have many people to hang out with here in L.A., so having a buddy to play with on WoW is a much-needed, healthy distraction. I jump out of bed and settle in front of my desktop. Once I’m logged onto my main character, Logan and I put on our headsets to chat.
“Hey!” His deep, pleasant voice sounds from the other end. It affects me way more than I want it to. I try to tame my heart’s flip-flopping long enough to greet him back with a smooth voice.
“Hey, wanna meet somewhere?”
He agrees, and we meet in Orgrimmar to look over each other’s toons. I right-click his nameplate to inspect his gear set. “Wow, you are really geared!” I say.
“Thanks. Your set is pretty good too. I noticed a couple of your pieces are kind of low level, though. Do you want to see if we can find a raid group real fast?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
Logan and I find a raid group and decide to wait out the hour together until it starts. While we’re waiting, I find out about his love for How I Met Your Mother and realize we’re at about the same point in the series in our Netflix queues. Logan and I start the same episode at the same time on our TVs and laugh together over Barney’s antics.
“That is one desperate dude,” Logan observes. “It’s sad that some guys in real life are like this.”
“I bet you run into a lot of those being a bartender.”
“Yeah, unfortunately. Luckily all I have to do is serve them alcohol. I’d hate to be a girl that has to deal with those guys coming onto them all the time.” “Trust me, it’s annoying,” I say with a giggle. Being in the public eye has put me in contact with a few creepy men, some of whom were much older than me. Normally, all I have to do is remind them I’m seventeen years old and they’ll leave me alone, but some of them almost make me threaten to call Jess’s bodyguards on them.
“I bet guys are always bothering you. Your looks alone make you a prime target,” Logan says.
My heart flutters. Did he just call me hot?
“Thanks. Actually, no, not always, just when I really don’t want them to, you know?”
Logan laughs. “Yeah, I get you. Now that I’m with someone, girls won’t leave me alone. Before I met Claire, I couldn’t find anyone who wanted to go out with me.”
“Well, that’s ironic.”
“Yeah, that’s life for you. Everything’s loaded with irony.”
“I should know. My favorite actress ended up being my mother.”
An air of shock enters Logan’s voice. “Wait, Jacie
Redinger was your favorite actress?”
“Yeah.”
Logan’s delicious chuckle bubbles up from his core. “That’s probably the most ironic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, well, what are you gonna do?”
At eight p.m., the raid begins, and my hunter and Logan’s warlock end up destroying the DPS charts. Logan holds on to the number one damage position with me as a close second.
Throughout each boss fight, Logan and I compete against each other, trying to outdo each other’s damage.
“I’m gonna hit 90K before you do,” Logan declares.
“Nuh-uh! I’ve got you beat. I’m already almost there.”
“You’re bluffing.”
I apply a buff and thump my desk in victory. “Check it. 89K, bitch. Come and get me.” “Oh, you bet I will,” Logan chokes out through his laughter.
Eventually, we both have to concede and admit we’re an equal match. Not only that, but we’re an extraordinary team when it comes to keeping each other out of trouble in the fights. Toward the end, I save Logan’s ass by warning him about a bomb that’s about to explode next to him, and he thanks me profusely.
“I knew there was something I liked about you,” he teases me.
My face splits with a grin. “Ditto. We’re already great together.”
“You’re kind of young, right? Where did you
learn to play like this?”
A ping of embarrassment hits my chest at being called young. “My dad. He’s a connoisseur of all things gaming.”
“Wow. Music and gaming experts, both of you. I’m impressed.”
“And horse experts, and gun experts…we like to get good at things.”
Logan guffaws. “I can tell. Not to mention you’re competitive as hell. Man, I’ve never met anyone so determined to beat me.”
“I don’t like getting beaten by boys,” I admit sheepishly.
“Yeah, well I get the feeling that doesn’t happen often.”
“No, it really doesn’t. It’s nice to have a worthy opponent for once.”
“Opponent? Nah. What about worthy ‘partner’?” I grin. “Works for me.”
September 2
Life’s Irony
I just got done playing four hours of WoW with Logan. That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Our back and forth banter is awesome, and it’s really exciting having someone to play with who’s on my level. Not to mention his knowledge of raids and fighting techniques is extensive. I might actually be able to learn something from him.
Being with him is so easy and natural. It sucks that he has a girlfriend. I’ve checked his social media, and it’s official—I’ll never have a chance with him. Claire is almost prettier than Ana. Her silky blonde hair and blue-green eyes could make an emperor weak at the knees. If she succeeds in her modeling career, Logan will be hailed as one of the luckiest guys on the planet. There’s no way he’s ever going to look my way, especially since I’m younger than him. I might as well just accept it and enjoy being his friend.
We chatted for a while after the raid and I found out his dad left him when he was a baby just like Jess left me. I told him I seem to be surrounded by people with shitty parents. According to Logan, his and Dalton’s mothers connected after both of them were abandoned by their children’s fathers and made sure the kids were able to spend plenty of time together. Having the support of someone else in their situation really helped Dalton and Devon, especially after their mother died. Logan told me he’s really looking forward to living near them so he can help them even more. He said Dalton won’t admit it, but he’s struggling to keep everything afloat as the only family member in a stable condition. Devon’s panic attacks and his uncle’s laziness are really taking a toll on him. I hope I can find a way to help him somehow too. No one should have to carry all of life’s burdens on their own, especially when they’re going to be a part of a new fam
ily. I hope our band will end up as close-knit as W3. Any one of them would drop everything and race to the end of the earth for the others. Their bond is almost stronger than blood.
Logan and I talked about the irony of life tonight, and it made me realize my life really is fraught with irony. My favorite actress ended up being my mother, my father ended up being exactly what I dreamed of being…
And I finally meet a guy I can connect with on a deeper level, and he’s going out with an IRL Barbie. Go figure.
Ttyl,
Mads
September 13
Doomsday Approaches
Tomorrow is my very first day of my senior year in a real high school. I’ve been drowning out my nerves with music all weekend. Having never been in a school of any kind, I can’t even imagine what I’m in for in the morning. I hope nobody will be able to tell I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. It’s humiliating enough as it is just being me. Adding high school to this equation seems like a recipe for disaster.
I got my uniform a couple weeks ago and it seems to fit okay. It’s made of the highest quality fabrics and the blazer has the school logo on the lapel. I feel really official wearing it, but also a little intimidated. I’m not your typical snotty rich girl. I still feel out of place in this luxurious new world.
It’s probably a good thing Raven made me get rid of my streaks in the summer because I’m not allowed to have any unnatural hair color at Wilcox. Tattoos, piercings, and ripped tights are also no longer an option. Attending a private high school means adhering to lots of rules and regulations. I hope I’m able to reign in my “wild” side long enough to get my diploma. I think I can follow their rules for one year, especially since I only have to be cleaned up and proper at school.
Dad just ordered me to go to sleep and it’s only ten p.m. My night owl self might have a hard time getting used to this…
D.O.R.K. Series Box Set: Diary of a Rocker's Kid, The Sister Code, Twin Wars Page 28