Chapter One-A New Life.
Story-Past-3 years before
"Wow. And now" I chuckled softly at the sound of Midnight Marks calm voice, as the Kinks came blaring threw our speakers. Steve glared at me, and I looked down at the car floor, guiltily. It was like I couldn't smile anymore without his permission. Not that I have much to smile about. I closed my eyes, and rested my head back on the car seat, as Steve started to lecture me about how if it was his choice, I wouldn't even be going to see that scumbag, and that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure I come back home safely. I just acknowledged him the right places.
Truth be told, it doesn't make a difference where I stay. I'm still going to have an overprotective adult, looking after me, saying what's right for me, and what isn't. Even in our last few days together, Steve doesn't do something fun, he calls lawyers, to find out his options. I had to pack alone, I had to hang out on my own. I even spent my final evening alone, watching TV.
Of course, I didn't point this out to Steve. I wouldn't want our last few minutes together to be bad ones.
I stared out the window, the rain dripping down the pane, as Steve's voice became more fainter and distant, until, along with the car, he stopped altogether. We sat in the car for a couple of minutes, in silence, the rain pit-patting on the car roof. Steve drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, and I was pretty certain that he would do a sharp turn, and drive off at full speed ahead, basically kidnapping me. He didn't though. Instead, he got out, cursing underneath his breath.
I stayed in the car, and stared at the swinging picture, hanging from the rearview mirror. It's a picture of me and Mum, when I was much younger. My actual father must've taken the picture. I stared at crumpled picture, my mothers bright eyes and smile staring back into my own, blankly. Photographs are just freezed pictures. They can't actually look into your eyes.
"LAURIE! ARE YOU GOING TO HELP ME OR WHAT?" I pocketed the picture, and rushed outside, sliding my hood over my black hair. But that didn't do any good, as the wind just blew straight down again. I helped unload my one suitcase, so why he needed help, is a puzzle. I hugged my arms together and looked over my shoulder. There were 4 men, staring at me. I looked back, and saw Steve's outstretched arms. I hugged him, so tightly, that I could literally feel his heat moving. Steve chuckled and kissed the top of my head. He pushed me away slightly, even though I didn't want to let go. I felt like a 7 year old, rather than a 17 year old.
"Come on Laur, I'll help you onto the boat" Steve picked up the suitcase and wiped his eyes. Whether it was from the rain, or they were tears, I didn't know. I tucked my hands into my pockets, and followed suit. I stepped into a puddle, and groaned, my leg suddenly become more colder. The boatman held onto my luggage, as Steve helped me on the boat. I took my luggage and held onto it.
"Where to Miss Torson?" I almost flinched at that name. It was my mothers maiden name. I never liked it, and I had always planned to change it when I was old enough. But now...It's one of the few things I have left of my Mum. I nodded and waved goodbye to Steve, until he was nothing more than a distant figure on shore. I turned to face forward. The rain was dying down, but the wind was still crazy. I looked down, my fingers red and numb. I heard a yell from one of the boatmen. I gave him a blank look and turned to face where he was pointing.
I almost fell off the boat. The ship was more larger than I had expected. It was old, and the red paint was peeling off, and was being replaced by rust. Along the side, sprawled in large white letters, said the words RADIO ROCK. I blinked for a while, before realising there was a ladder. I climbed up, holding my suitcase tightly, praying that it wouldn't suddenly fall open, leaving me clotheless. I breathed a small sigh of relief when it didn't.
After yelling 3 times that I was here to see some man named Quentin, the man on deck led me indoors. The corridors were chilly, and my legs were aching as we went up another set of steep stairs. The man guided to the furthest door, at the end. The man opened the door, and I stepped in, silently thanking him.
The room was huge, but cosy. In the middle of the room, was a long table. Lightshades hung from the ceiling, and at the very end of the room, stood a large bed. Papers were stacked everywhere, on the table, on the floorboards, even on the miniature bar. At the opposite end of the room, stood a large skinny man, with welcoming eyes, and a very stylish suit. He outstretched his arms, spilling some of his drink on the carpet.
"Laurie. How are you?" I raised an eyebrow at him and replied,
"Fine" This, of course, was a lie. The man, who I can only assume is Quentin, strided over to me, and bent down to my eye level, as if I was inspecting me. This made me nervous, and twitchy. Quentin smiled, and said,
"I don't like liars" There was an awkward silence. Quentin stood up straight, and walked back over to the other side of the room.
"So...Wendy's dead?" I blinked hard,and nodded. Quentin took a sip of his drink.
"Awful. Such a beautiful woman. She was my first love you know?" I just looked at him. He walked back over to me, and said,
"You don't speak much do you?" I shook my head.
"Not with new people. Or old friends. In fact, I'd rather stay quiet, than talk" Quentin smiled a little.
"So...your mother's request, in her will, is to stay with your father, until you're old enough to make your own desicions?" I smiled.
"Yes. If that's you, then yes" Quentin smiled, and said,
"Spectactular mistake. Still, I suppose we better keep her happy" He strided over to me once more, and stood by my side. I barely reached his shoulder.
"Suppose you better meet the others. Lucky for you, they're still awake" Quentin picked up my luggage and threw it into some random room, as we walked downstairs, into the living area, which was filled with chatter and smoke. When we walked in, the laughter stopped, and was replaced by stares. It was like, we walked into the room, and everyone had turned to stone. Quentin leaned on the stair banister and said calmly,
"Can I introduce to you all, my daughter, Laurie?" Nobody spoke. They still stared. I looked down sheepishly, and saw my black hair fall into my face. I saw Quentin stamp his foot lightly, and I looked up, as he pointed to the others.
"Dave, Thick Kevin, Felicity, John, Angus and Simon. Marks recording, Bobs sleeping and Gavins...probably drowned or something" I chuckled smally. Still, no one spoke, until Dave suddenly exclaimed,
"Your what the fuck?" A skinny boy, Thick Kevin, hit his arm. Dave raised his hands innocently. I smiled. Felicity, who was easy to spot because she was a) the only woman and b) wrist deep in dough, looked at me with sincere concern, and asked in a lovely voice,
"Can you speak dear?" I blinked at her. I smiled, a devious plan bursting into my mind. I smiled sadly and shook my head. Everyone in the room gasped, whereas Quentin just raised an eyebrow. I winked at him, and he said nothing. As the others crowded round me, handing me a pen and paper, I couldn't help but laugh. They sat me down, and handed me a Coke.
"Is there anything else you want?" Felicity asked, after a half hour of fretting. I looked at Quentin, who crossed his arms, and gave me a stern look. I smiled and looked at her.
"Yes there is one thing" Everyone gasped. I pushed my hair back and carried on speaking,
"Can I have a straw please?" Felicity walked off, muttering angrily to herself. The Count ruffled my hair, and said in his American accent,
"I like her" I smiled and stood up.
"I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed" I walked past everyone, and figured I'd be the topic of conversation. I didn't bother waiting around though. I headed up the stairs, and tried to remember what room Quentin had chucked my suitcase in. I looked in on every room, not recognising my suitcase. But, I didn't even get a chance to look in Gavins room. I peeked round the door, and saw something I didn't need to see. I quickly shut the door, and blushed. Gavin opened his room, and looked at me. He leaned on the doorframe, and tilted his head to one side, inquiringly.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" I made sure I stayed looking right into his eyes, and not...lower.
"Aren't you a little young to be on this ship?" I smiled.
"It's the 60s. It's rock n roll. Am I to young to rock?" Gavin smiled.
"Seriously...what are you doing here?" I didn't say much. I just walked away, looking into other rooms. I didn't hear a door shut. Instead, when I turned to look, Gavin was still looking at me, curiously. I rolled my eyes, and looked into the final room. My suitcase was in there, so I went in, changed into my pajamas and clicked the light shut, before burrowing under my duvet, questions filling my mind. What's tomorrow going to be like? How am I going to survive here? And more importantly...what was Mum thinking?
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