|Girl's Not Grey
Author: greysfanhp PM
Kelly/Belle the way it was meant, lol. Goes through the first movie with little twists to get out favourite couple together. Might turn M for future chapters.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Drama - Annabelle F. & Kelly J. - Chapters: 7 - Words: 11,428 - Reviews: 53 - Favs: 38 - Follows: 95 - Updated: 09-07-12 - Published: 08-07-11 - id: 7262048
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Sooo, this is just a prologue people. I'll get to the good stuff soon. For those of you who got here expecting an update on one of the Twilight stories, fear not – I'm getting all of that sorted out.
I was also wondering… anybody up for being my beta for this story? Come on… I'm not that bad and I don't bite ;)
She had strait A's and long jet black hair, a kind face and a sweet smile. Kelly Jones was the daughter every parent wanted. No one was exempt for falling for the magic of her ivory skin and her heartbreaking puppy dog eyes. Her father was one of the best lawyers in the world and had taught his young daughter all the tricks in the game to get what you wanted. Her mother had being the one to teach her that trademark smirk and every time they went to a dinner party, Kelly saw the way she moved her hips first and then asked the Lord or millionaire if he was going to help sponsor one of her many projects. But she also saw the way her parents looked at each other, the adoration in each others eyes and the special smile they reserved only for them. That's what her parents always subconsciously told her – never conform, get only that which makes you truly breathlessly happy.
At the dire age of ten Kelly Jones' life was simply perfect – she went to one of the most prestigious school's in England, her parent's gave her nothing but the best – Louis Vuitton was the maker of her school bags, Pelletier watches were carelessly thrown around, Channel no. 5 mingled with the very oxygen she breathed and only the likes of Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, Prada, Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent had the privilege to dress her.
Anyone who'd seen her back then would have laughed their wigs off at the very thought the smart girl with the sweet smile could ever end up anywhere else but marrying one of the princes, mention Kelly and St. Trinians in the same sentence and that was madness right there. So… how did she end up being head girl of that school and walking around it like sex on heels?
Simple enough, her parents were fighting while her father was speeding like a psychopath on uppers. The Bentley they were driving was not prepared for the collision when a truck came literally from out of nowhere. To this day Kelly still can't remember what they were fighting about, what had propelled her father to push the accelerator and look away from the road and made her mothers blue eyes well up in a cascade of tears.
As the ambulance arrived she saw both her parents gasping for breath while the soft brown leather of their seats was stained with crimson red. Her father turned to look at her with the ghost of the smile she knew so well.
"Promise me," he started, while Kelly nodded despite feeling like every cell in her body was about to explode with pain despite only having a gash on her right arm. "Promise me, you'll give 'em hell, kid. Just like your mother and I did."
"Of course, daddy!" She squealed as the tears she'd been holding back let loose freely.
"Now, now, baby girl." He said while feeling the blood on his abdomen flow freely. "Give us a kiss and a hug before we sort this mess out, 'k?"
Kelly flung her arms around her fathers' neck and using all his strength he bit back the groan that was dying to come out of his mouth because of the intensity of the pain her touch brought him. With the last energy his body could muster he took hold of his wife's hand, squeezed it tightly like he always did before closing his eyes and letting the darkness engulf him.
That was how Kelly Jones was thrown into the big wild world without a moments warning, and how Camilla Fritton entered her life.
Kelly had been sitting on a hospital bed for at least two hours despite her stitches being completed a long while before. Her skinny jeans were all dirty and her white Abercrombie blouse was covered in blood. She replayed the scene over and over again in her mind trying to figure out where the other car had come from, but she had being too busy looking at the glossy pages of Vogue and circling the items she wanted to pay any attention what so ever.
"Girlie, are you alright?" The blonde woman asked not bothering to hide the worry on her pale face. Her face looked familiar, like she'd seen it in an old photo or met a long, long time ago.
"Yes." Kelly answered, quickly hiding in an emotionless expression.
"Fine enough, I didn't expect you to." The woman replied, easily seeing the truth etched all over her body language.
"Who are you?" Kelly asked.
"I'm Camilla Fritton." She answered. "Your mother and I were best friends."
Kelly's eyes widened a bit. So this was the infamous Camilla that had accompanied her mother throughout school. She had shown her a few photos but now realized why she didn't recognize her – Camilla had dropped the seventies style and now dressed all the part of a post-war upper middle class eccentric.
"They're… they're," Kelly tried to splutter. "They're… gone, aren't they?"
Camilla nodded and brought the now crying girl into her arms. "There, there, girlie."
"What's going to happen?" Kelly asked as she was released of the woman's iron grip.
"Well, you can come home with me. I'm headmistress of St. Trinians now and I'm more than sure you can have a dashing good fun there."
Kelly nodded, not really caring anymore. "My things?"
"I picked some stuff on my way. You can go back anytime to get more of course. But how about in the mean time we get you out of that?" She said placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and guiding her to the bathrooms. She pulled out of her bag a fresh pair of jeans, a comfortable shirt and a thick jumper. Kelly took them and entered one of the cubicles.
"Bugger… my parents are dead." She said quietly, her mind just not being able to wrap itself around the concept of not having them anymore. Everything was going in slow motion. She put on the clean clothes gratefully and quickly discarded the bloody ones into a bin not wanting to ever see the two hundred pound outfit again in her life.
She splashed some cold water and as she did so the words her father always told her came rushing into her mind.
"Straiten up little soldier, stiffen up that upper lip."
She nodded at her reflexion. I'll get through this if it's the last thing I do, she promised herself before walking strait out to the waiting woman.
Just thought we could use a bit more of Kel's background… anyway. R&R! Uh by the way… cyber biscuit to whoever can detect the Eminem lyric.