Candeh- Hey! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this fic and I hope you enjoy this one, but I'm not promising it will be long. The first scene is very rushed, especially towards the end, but I hope you like it. You guys left really, really short reviews, so I'll just respond it's tradition as simple as possible.
Galateagirl: Thanks! I hope you enjoy the next chapter.
Inumaru12: I will, I will. Haha! I'm really glad you like it so far!
Loves-winged-dark-angel: Why thank you.
L'ange-Sans-Ailes: Cool! Is your username French or something? I like it.
Unlikely-To-Bear-It: Hoozah! Good to hear from you all again!
Insane Child of The Night: Thank you! Ember is my favourite besides Danny, who is too sexxay for his own good, and I do love Ember's song. Thanks again.
Satoshi Silver Syron: You got it!
Chaos: I thought I'd shorten your name a little bit! Hah. Thanks you, I like to leave you all guessing.
Yana5: Oh! I like your username. It's short and sweet and to the point. It's easy to type so I don't have to keep switching browsers! Thanks for the short username and the wicked comments.
Firefly4000: Thank you and here you go.
Perfectangel9000: I'm glad you enjoy it!
I am standing on the corner of Main Street and Center Avenue. It is dark outside and with a small white and pale hand, it seems almost invisible in front of my face. I blink, desperately trying to see my fingers. I count; pinky, index, middle, pointer... "Thumb," I feel around with my only visible hand, the left, the one that has yet to pale over like the rest of my body. Swoosh. If absence could make a sound, this would be it and I stand stunned at my four-fingered hand. "Where's my thumb?" I ask the cold lights around me, sending their bright reflection on me like a prison spot light. I feel naked, almost vulnerable under these bright lights, and I cover myself with my nine fingers. I feel my left hand. Ten fingers, and I am almost to weary to feel my other one.
I spin around, sending each of my hands flying with me and I am facing a large fire. Heat touches my face like a slithering snake and I am forced to back away. On his knees, rests the restaurant manager, Mr. Barker, sits cradling his head in his rusty palms, sweating from the heat about him. The man in the pink sparkling hat is outside. I had noticed him before the band and I had started practicing behind the red curtains. I had noticed him when I'd poked my head out from the fabric, examining our audience and there they say, drunk and miserable. Except for the lively man in the pink top hat, the sequence sparking in the dim lights of the pub like a mermaids' tail in the light of the night. He smiles, watching me and nodding towards his notepad, equipt with notepaper and a felt pen. He is a talent scout and when he sees me, he smiles.
But he is not smiling anymore and his pink and vibrant hat is not resting on his head. Bald like an eagle, his head shines in the fire light and his pink hat rests over his heart like a soldier. "She was so talented." He says to a cute man named Tom next to him. Tom doesn't smile either and he stands back as a red fire truck pulls up around the corner. A firefighter with long hair back in a pony-tail whips herself from the open truck door and releases a long white hose, spraying down the burning building like it had been a dirty car. She is not smiling either.
"My money!" Mr. Barker screams, "My pub!" A long tear drips down his fat and pudgy check like a spider crawling down a pipe.
Tom rolls his eyes, wadding over to his boss on the ground, "The entertainment, sir," he addresses him as if they had not been friends for decades.
"Tom," Mr. Barker answers him back as he wipes his shinny forehead, "Angel and Candy made it out fine." His extends a fat finger towards a group of older and glamorous ladies huddled together in the background. No wonder they are cold. The first woman, with a large 'A' imprinted over her left breast, her stomach is bare and a large pink diamond rests underneath her bellybutton like a perfect jewel. I classify her as angel, with her long flowing hair and her fuzzy pink halo. She leans briskly on her companion, Candy, who stands straight to support both Angel and her own weight. She wears a blue skirt, short enough to cover her ankles, and I can tell they are only for the show.
"Mr. Barker," Tom says, trying to bring his eyes away from the two elder woman in the background, "not them." His eyes are brought back to the burning building in front of him, "Ember."
"Who is that?"
"The perky one?"
At his bosses' forgetfulness, Tom slams his notebook on the ground, "The perky one."
"What about her?" Mr. Barker stares at eh gravel in front of him.
"She hasn't come out." What? I rush up to him letting my feet run faster than they should. I have not noticed my feet don't touch the ground. I grab him with my nine fingers and wrap them around his shoulders.
"What do you mean?" I say, worried, Tom does not notice me in front of his face and his eyes stare right through me. It is just then when I see him; the strong muscular man in yellow, his fire hat sliding off his head tauntingly.
He is carrying me and there I lie, my peach skin black and burnt. He sorrowfully places my body on a white stretcher and turns towards Tom. I am socked in the stomach and thrown backwards. When I wake I am lying in a darkened room near a bed. A raven haired boy pokes his head over me and screams.
Candeh- Review for the next chapter.