*ΘェΘjessemybabyΘェΘ* Wed Jul 29, 2009 8:40 am
chapter 4
“11:55 am” 5 more minutes till show time! Carly was with us backstage telling us all the routines just in case we forgot.
“Ok guys you’ve done great today good luck to you all!” this was it we positioned our self behind the
curtains 1 ,2 ,3 the curtains we’re pulled up slowly the smoke was fading away the crowd started screaming firstly we started singing “let’s get funky tonight” I’ll have to admit the dance moves in this song we’re more trickier than all the other songs we did. After what felt like a life time we ended the show with “it happens every time” as soon as the curtains fell down I quickly made my way backstage I had to sit down I was soooo tired from all that dancing.
“You we’re all great!” Carly told us as soon as we we’re all sat down. Gerry walked in the room not long after
“Well that’s it for today you’re free to go!”
END OF POV
Jesse sat at the back of the tour bus staring out of the window. They had just completed yet another arena in New York, and were now on their way to the airport where they would catch a plane to Miami. He sighed as he thought about his family seated around the dining table, his Mum and Dad talking, and Lea and Timmy squabbling about something. How he missed them. For the last few weeks he had been feeling incredibly homesick. He felt almost as bad as he had when the group had first formed, when he wasn’t used to the prolonged periods away from home. But he’d soon grown out of that, or so he’d thought.
A couple of days ago Gerry had hired an image consultant to work his ‘magic’ on the group, to try to make them more attractive to an American audience. The consultant had looked them all up and down, walked around them and made a few tutting noises, then suggested to Gerry that he should hire a fitness instructor as losing a couple of pounds wouldn’t hurt any of them. They’d exchanged apprehensive looks at just the idea of it, but deep down Jesse secretly thought that maybe he was right, and if losing a bit of weight would help them crack America, what was the harm in that?
When he had gone, Gerry had muttered something about knowing all those McDonalds meals and junk food they insisted on eating while on the road would catch up with them one day. He then dismissed them and picked up his phone to find a fitness instructor.
They had been introduced to Mark (the instructor Gerry had found) a couple of days ago and he had turned their routine upside down. Instead of McDonalds they now had salads and low-fat pastas prepared for them by Harry, a chef and ‘diet expert’ who now followed them everywhere, keeping an eye on what they were consuming. Also twice a day, between interviews, sound checks and concerts, they were put through their paces by Mark who would make them jog, and stretch, and do sit-ups. Chris joked that it was like being back at school.
It was usually tiring enough just doing a concert so for the last two weeks the boys had felt completely exhausted. For the last day or two though, Jesse had actually felt far more energetic. He guessed that the training and diet must’ve just taken a couple weeks to start working, and he loved the feeling of it. The other guys didn’t seem to appreciate it all as much as he did and were looking forwards to filling their faces with home cooked meals and fatty food when they got home.
Jesse wasn’t going to. He had really dedicated himself to it, and was enjoying the benefits he was already feeling. There was going to be no snacking at the McCartney house – well, not by him anyway.
*Dream street’s Break*
The bus pulled into airport car park, and surrounded by a group of security guards, Dream Street were escorted through the crowds to the first class boarding lounge.
As soon as Jesse walked in through his Mum and Dad’s front door, his mom had pounced on him, welcoming him home, and fussing over him.
“That Gerry’s been working you too hard!” She cried as she looked him up and down, “you’re little more than skin and bones!”
“Hi Mom, I’m fine.” Jesse laughed as he walked in and gave her a hug. “How have things been here?”
“Much the same, oh Timmy sprained his ankle playing football.” She told him as they made their way through to the next room.
“Really? How is he?”
“Oh, as you’d expect. Making the most of it.” She replied with a laugh.
“Yeah, that’d be right. Don’t let him get away with too much.” Jesse said as he slumped down on the sofa.
“Would you like a piece of chocolate cake?” She asked him, glancing over his thin frame once more, “I just made one this morning.”
“No thanks Mom.” Jesse replied, although it was extremely tempting. “I’m not hungry.” But his stomach, apparently not on his side, gave a loud rumble in argument.
“You sure? I’ll just get you a piece.” His mom replied with a smile.
“No thanks Mum,” Jesse repeated, “I can’t, Gerry’ put us on this new diet. I have to stick to it.”
“Diet! You don’t need to be on a diet!” She exclaimed, not believing what he’d just told her. “If you lost any more weight you’d be a skeleton! What does Gerry know about diets anyway?”
“I don’t know, but Mark knows everything about them. It’s his job.” Jesse replied calmly. He’d been expecting a reaction like this. Would she ever realise that he wasn’t a baby any more and could look after himself? He guessed though that all mothers were the same.
“Mark? Who on earth is Mark?”
“Our new fitness instructor. Gerry hired him to help us break America.”
“Well I don’t want to hear anymore, I’ve heard enough.” She told her son as she walked over to the phone and picked it up.
“What are you doing?” Jesse asked anxiously as he followed her.
“I’m calling Gerry to complain. He has no right to work you so hard and make you so ill.” She replied as though what she was doing was the most logical thing in the world.
“No Mom. You’re not.” Jesse told her calmly, taking the telephone out of her loose grip and placing it back on the cabinet. “I’m not ill, I’m fine and I’m old enough to look out for myself. I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t right for me. You’ve brought me up to be a strong person, nobody, especially Gerry, is going to make me do anything I don’t want to.”
“Oh I know you’re right,” She agreed, giving in, “but I’m your mother and I just worry sometimes. It comes with the job.”
“Yeah I know.” Jesse uttered with a laugh.
“Do you want some cake then?” she asked again hopefully.
Jesse rolled his eyes, “I’m going up to my room to unpack and read some mail.”
“Ok, sweetheart. At least I tried.” She called after him.
It was now dinnertime and as Jesse watched his family enjoying their roast chicken he began to feel envious. As he picked up his salad sandwich with a sigh, his mum looked over at him. “You can have some chicken Jesse, there’s more than enough.”
“Yeah ok.” He gave in, and watched as his mum flashed him a smile and began to load his plate up with food. He began to eat it slowly, it tasted so delicious he couldn’t believe that he’d almost missed out on it and had his tasteless salad sandwich instead.
Before he knew it, he’d finished his plate and was about to excuse himself from the table when his mum brought out the chocolate cake that she had mentioned earlier. Just looking at it made his mouth water. What was the harm in having just one slice? He thought to himself, promising at the same time to stick to his diet from the next day onwards. What harm would one day do? He asked himself as he bit into the chocolate and cream sponge.
*****
Five minutes later Jesse was sat up in his room trying to read a magazine, but his mind was elsewhere. Why had he done it? It was just one stupid meal, but he could feel it being digested. He could imagine all the fat being absorbed into his body and ruining all his hard work. Why had he been so weak? He thought, as he leant back in his chair and groaned.
He felt awful and bloated and ashamed of himself. He had been so determined to stick to the diet, and had caved in on his first day home! What did that say about him? All he knew was that tomorrow didn’t seem soon enough to re-start his diet.
He felt he needed to do something about the way he was feeling right then, and he could only think of one way. He had to get rid of the food in his stomach before it caused too much damage. He ran to the bathroom, and crouching over the toilet, put his fingers into his mouth and made himself sick.
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um i've only written one paragraph cos i don't know if people are going to like my story.
