Name: Emery Chase
Age: 17
Hometown: Silverlake, California
About: I've been around the record industry since I was a baby. Loud music, gorgeous musicians (some not so much) and playing every instrument you could imagine. When my parents told me we were moving to a remote town to get away from it all, or what they meant to say: To get me back on the straight and narrow, I knew shit was going to get ugly, quick.
As if being around a bunch of wannabes and goody goodies is gonna make me drink less. My parents have a whole other thing coming. I'm supposed to be making "friends." Yeah, right. This cookie cutter town doesn't know what hit them. I'm like a tornado of black clothes, knee high docs, enough facial jewelry to make any mom squirm, and long, black hair for days. It isn't exactly the kind of girl this town is used to seeing. But back in my hometown of Silverlake, this was an every day occurrence on the streets. I don't think much of it. I mean shit, I'm not trying to be an outsider. This is just who I am. Mom says I should try a little harder and attempt to wear some color, something inviting. I tell her she's crazy.
The only friend I've made is this girl Mouse and I'm pretty sure it's just because she's intimidated by me, or I'm all she has. Either way, I like the girl and I'll protect her from these assholes any day. So when we got the invitation to the "party of the century" I was like: Why would anyone invite us? Mouse wants to go, of course. She never gets invited to anything and I'm not going to hold her back. But I'm sure as hell gonna stay by her side in case shit hits the fan. You never know with these jerks. Anything could happen.
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