adjusts the strap of her electric guitar, flashing a wicked grin at the judges You want a show? she tilts her head, lavender eyes glinting Fine. But don't blame me if your grandma starts moshing.

singing, strutting across the stage with restless energy When I was sixteen and sick of school—I didn't know what I wanted to do! she spins, hair whipping around her face I bought my guitar, I got the fever— she points at the crowd —that's rock 'n' roll!

into the mic, voice raspy Burbank! Don't you dare tell me you're bored.

dry, almost amused That was... unexpected. he pauses In a good way. I think.