Four DJing/Acapella girls come together through a series of twists and turns of relationships. Can they manage?


3. Becca-Surprise @ the Big house!

"Becca!" The family I was staying with roared all at once, running up to me, hugging me. For some reason, their two daughters were hugging Ryan and Nathan was swept up by the father of the family. "Becca, are you okay? You guys know each other?"


I blinked. "Oh Ryan? We were sitting next to each other on the plane. And so was Nathan."


"What a conidedence!" the mother squealed, hugging me and kissing my face. "My name is Chantelle, but you can call me Aunt. This is Joe, but you can call him Uncle, right?" I smiled at the lovely married couple who were blushing at each other.


"Wait. So this is the girl who's going to be living with us?" Ryan asked, a confused face taking over his generous smile and worry clouded his eyes.


"Oh well, that's weird," I mumbled. "What school am I going again?" I asked as Uncle Joe took my suitcases and started strolling them to the entrances/exits to the airport.


"It's an art school you're going to, actually," Uncle Joe replied. Man. We were already at their... Mercedes? Wowm they must be rich. And if I was correct it was one of Mercedes' expensive models. He opened the trunk and threw my three bags in there. He took Ryan's and Nathan's four bags and squished them inot the trunk. He grinned at me as he opened the back seats for me to sit with Ryan and Nathan. We were all squeezed in the backrow, me being in the middle-just like the plane ride.


I inserted my massive headphones and turned the volume up a bit. I put on "Misery" by "Maroon 5" and started nodding my head to it.


"What are you listening to?" Aunt Chantelle asked, smiling attratively at me. She seemed so nice to be with, so nice to bond with. She kind of looked like an middle aged model for Vogue or Readers' Digest. I wished I lookd that young and vibrant when I'm her age.


"Maroon 5," I answered.


"Really?" Chantelle grinned. "That's Ryan's favourite band."


"Wow," I said, elbowing Ryan playfully. He just looked away. Gee. What was his problem? Maybe he was just really awkward, because I knew I was. "Well, yeah. I'm not a total fan of them, but I enjoy their songs occasionally."


"Why don't you like them?" Joe asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror. "And my, where did you get those headphones?"


"Marron 5's song are way to alike," I answered. "Oh and these?"-I pointed to my expensive high-quality headphones I wore for DJing-"I mesh songs for fun. I wear these and have a collection of different ones, too. You know that suitcase with the many belts all around it and steel supports? Well, in that I have my laptop, my speakers, my mics, headphones and my DJing discs and flashdrives."


"You mean that heavy 20" by 27" suitcase you had?"


"WTF?" Ryan sputtered. I was feeling too lazy to translate: What the f*ck, was what he actually said. "Who carries that big of a suitcase?!"


"Take a chill pill," I mumbled.


"Exactly," Chantelle puffed. "At least Becca is good at something. You are just the lazy boy who's best friends is an XBOX."


I grinned at Ryan, who blushed furiously.


After an hour of silent riding, unconsiously, my mouth started moving and my breathing altered forcefully. "Won't you come see about me, I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby. Tell me your troubles and doubts, giving me everything inside and out. Love's strange, so real in the dark. Think of the tender things that we were working on. Slow change may pull apart, when the light gets into your heart, baby. Don't you forget about me~ Don't, don't, don't, don't... Don't you forget about me... Will you stand above me...? Look my-"


Nathan clapped, breaking my Zen Mode. "You're a really good singer!"


I looked over at Chantelle and Joe, who were beaming and Ryan?... not so much. "You like the old songs?" Joe asked, impressed.


"I like all songs from heavy metal to modern pop to country to the 80s," I answered, winkng playfully.


"You are a wonderful singer," Chantelle mused. "Hmm, the art school you're going into offers many vocal clubs. Maybe you can join the Vocal Jazz club that Ryan's in or maybe full-on choir. Maybe Musical Theatre?"


"I'm planning onto joining Musical Theatre, but if times are good then I might do Vocal Jazz," I answered politely.


"What classes are you interested in taking in?" Chantelle asked. Too many questions! I politely answered, due to the fact I used to get scolded for yelling at people older than me, "Biology, chemistry, law and English. I'm planning to join the IB program they have."


"Oh?" Joe cocked his head.


"I've been in the honours program since grade seven because my old school had grades from grade one to twelve. It was a good school. Great for kids who love to use their brains," I said, tapping on my head. "So... how much longer?"


Two minutes of dead silence.


"We're actually here," Joe announced as he parked the car in its driveway. I slowly got out of the car after Ryan and gasped when I saw the huge mansion in front of us. The majority of the huge mansion was made from tiles and glass. It wasn't very high, but it was large. There was a small cavity of space where the kitchen was where there were no walls, just a floating stoen roof above. There was a pathway in and out the house made from mosaic glass which also led to their massive pool that looked at least two meters deep. There was a disco ball hanging from the ceiling above the pool.


I stretched my neck to stare at the large back of the house. It was funny how the house had a flat roof. It was what my friends called and Modern house, but from my neighbourhood to this; modern and wood made a huge difference. These people must have owned at least ten acres of land.


Joe led me to the house. Everything was so white... blank. It was a house made out of clear green-toned glass, white painted stone and black plastic roofs that looked like it added more flare to the building, not protect it from the wet and dangerous.


"Ryan will lead you to your room." Joe walked away as Ryan stepped forwards and carried two of my suitcases with his muscular arms. I grabbed my two which were twice as light as one of the suitcases Ryan was grunting over about.


Once we were at my room with a sweating/panting Ryan, I grabbed my DJing equiptment and took them out: My very expensive Pioneer DDJ-SX Digital DJ Controller I got for Christmas from "Santa", my Virtual DJ Software I got from my parents on my birthday, Denon DJ DN-X1600 DJ Mixer I got from my Aunt in West Virginia, my laptop I've had since I was thirteen when I started meshing songs, my high preformance Cinema system Speakers I saved up since fifth grade to until last year I got, and my Electrix Tweaker DJ MIDI Controller. The last object I pulled out were all my wires and plugs for the systems in the same bag as my three mics and my other pair of favourite headphones.


"Whoa," Ryan breathed.


I winked at him as I set the heavy equiptment onto my new desk. "This stuff was very, very expensive so please do not touch," I instructed as I pulled out my foldable basket. I tossed in all my flashdrives and CD discs I did albums of mixes with. Some I did Acapellas with. Ryan helped me set up my mini "booth". My room was large enoughf or me to set up as an actual booth so I could do acapella here. I took out my green-screen and hung it on one of the blank walls next to the opening-window that stretched out, forming the whole wall itself. The balcony was pretty through the Windex-wiped windows.


"WHat do you do with all this equiptment? Just... DJ?" Ryan asked.


I nodded. "I do Acapella. Back in home, I had my own studio I would do my project. I even have a YouTube channel where I do Acapellas and DJ mixes."




I nodded. "Search me up: Capital D-Capital J-slash-Capital A-Capital C-Captial A-dash-Capital M-Capital I-lowercase x. DJ/ACA-MIx. That's me." Ryan nodded, soaking this all in. He was still staring at my system. "I've created over two hundred mixes and counting. I did around twenty Acapellas and I have more I'm planning to do. I'm actually doing one right now... it's Taylor's Swift's 22." He nodded again. I rolled my eyes. "I get hosted in many parties and since my Dad is a famous Talent Agent, I get hosted in a lot of private parties and celebrity-based events."


Ryan now looked really surprised. "That I did not know."


I nodded. "Even your parents don't know. My Dad's a Talent Agent who used to be close friends with Michael Jackson, etcetera, and he's too busy traveling he doesn't even know I do mash-ups and acapella."


"But he's an agent... he could get you famous," Ryan piped in.


I shrugged. "I do it as a hobby, you know?" I only had around a hundred subscribers, anyways. And even less channel views. Sure, I'd check every single week to upload and check up on how many likes I got. I think I got more channel likes than views which was strange, but I didn't care if I wasn't YouTube famous... Well, it did depress me a little, but it's not their fault I try to be private. "I don't think I'll make it as a fame and money thing."


Ryan nodded. There was something in his eyes that looked like he didn't believe me.


This was getting awkward. "Do you wanna hear an album?" I asked. He shrugged, but I could tell he really wanted to. I grabbed one of my CDs and searched for the "80s" label. I seperated my songs by different genre and what decade the songs came from. I would buy CDs in the store and do mashups or acapellas with those songs, naming my CDs the same thing.


Once I found the album, I inserted it onto my laptop and plugged in the wires. "This track is don't you forget about me."


"What happens if you lose one of those discs or flashdrives?" Ryan asked.


I shot him a glare. "They are built with tracking devices, first of all. Secondly, it doesn't matter. I have a copy of all the songs in my own flashdrive I carry around with me-always. Think of stealing, you're dead. Since they're wireless, I could easily delete the memory in those flashdrives from my phone, laptop, whatever, but it's always staying in my flashdrive."


"But... isn't this stuff expensive?"


"I come from a family in Paris. My mom is a famous fashion designer and so is her sister and brother. You already know what my Dad is and I get money from being hosted in parties... and I get paid a lot. You'd be surprised."


"How much was all this?"


"Don't you just want to listen?" I asked, annoyed.


"Sure," he said, grinning.


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