Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, the blonde rolled her eyes at the Los Angeles traffic lights, "Turn green, bitch," Five whole seconds had gone by; how much longer was she expected to wait? When the cue was finally granted, she hit the gas pedal and after a turn here and a turn there, she was home. Leaving the Nissan Skyline in the driveway, she pulled all the shopping bags out of the vehicle. Chanel, Fendi, and Gucci were among some of the brands she had blew daddy's plastic on and only the great Lord above knew how much more she had spent and on what.
Trekking into the kitchen, she dumped the bags onto the counter and provided a brief smile to her parents who just so happened to be seated at the dining table, sipping away on their tea.
Placing her cup back on the saucer, Miranda Ivanov turned in her chair and glanced over at her daughter. Sighing, Hayden Ivanov did the same. The decision they had come to was a hard one but it was in their daughter's best interest.
"Dylan?" Hayden started.
Leaning over the counter and texting away on her iPhone, the blonde replied without bothering with any form of eye contact, "Yeah?"
"Your mother and I need to talk to you about something,"
"K," The seventeen year old nodded, "Hold on," She continued doing whatever it was she was doing on her phone before strolling over to the table and grabbing a seat, "What's up?"
"Can you put that down please?" Miranda fished for Dylan's attentiveness.
"...yeah," And after replying to the latest text, she finally put the phone down, crossing her arms over the table and smiling, "So what's up?" She repeated.
Mr. and Mrs. Ivanov both exchanged glances before Hayden begun, "First of all we want you to know how much we love you, pumpkin. You're our daughter, our only daughter, and we'd do anything and everything for you,"
"Yeah, I know," But her attention was whisked away once again when the phone beside her lit up. As she picked it up, Miranda shook her head.
"Dylan, we're trying to talk to you so we'd appreciate it if you can just hold off from your phone for a few minutes,"
"Fine," The blonde rolled her eyes, "What?"
The red haired woman reached forward and held her daughter's hand, "We're worried about you, Dylan,"
"Why?" Came the flaxen haired girl's response, "It's not like I'm dying or anything,"
"Of course not," Hayden cut in, "We're worried about the way you treat people; sometimes it's very degrading. We're also worried about your spending habits; you think money grows on trees. Your school too; your math and English teacher informed us that you're failing the two courses. We're worried about your future,"
"Ugh, dad," Dylan exhaled out loudly, "500 bucks and I'll get a passing grade, no problem. And technically money does grow on trees. Bills are paper and paper comes from trees. And I don't treat people degradingly or whatever; it's just that stupid people get on my nerves,"
Mrs. Ivanov stared at her daughter before laughing. Not a genuine laugh. It was a laugh that expressed that she'd had enough and that she and her husband probably should have done something way before instead of waiting this long. Not only did Dylan think money blossomed out of trees, but she also thought money would buy her everything. At least when their son was Dylan's age, Tala had learned to stand up on his two feet and become independent. But their daughter...
It was so sad to watch. They'd spoiled her rotten to the core. She got everything she wanted and then some. But she needed to know money wasn't going to buy her everything, most things, yes, but not everything, and she wasn't always going to get every single thing she wanted. She needed to understand the value of money and the importance of education.
Hayden situated a tan coloured envelope on the glass table and let the contents drop on the surface, "This is your passport and this is a one way ticket to Russia. Pack your things, you're leaving tomorrow evening. You'll be staying with Tala and the rest of his team until we feel you've learned something."
x x x
Storming down the Russian airport with several luggages, Dylan tried to spot the exit, "Fucking airport," She cursed before coming to a stop to scan her surroundings. There were millions of people around her, all of them babbling the foreign language. It was beginning to irritate her for when you didn't understand a language, it sounded much like noise.
Very annoying noise.
Exasperated, she approached a random man, "Excuse me, how do I get out?"
"Get...out?" The man wrinkled his nose. He had quite the accent, a very thick European one.
"Yeah, like, out of the airport, like to the streets and stuff,"
He pointed in a direction, "That a-way, you go that a-way,"
"Thanks," She displayed appreciation with a quick smile before strolling towards the glass doors. She was greeted with the coldest burst of wind once she stepped outside, definitely not something she was used to. She was dressed appropriately of course, a baby pink toque with two braided pigtails on either side were used as ear savers, a black pea coat that was supposed to keep her warm wasn't doing its job very well, grey UGG boots were already starting to soak from the slush, and mittens that were meant to prevent frostbites did absolutely nothing as her fingers turned numb.
Taxis and other vehicles filled the area. She was told her brother was going to pick her up but she didn't completely understand the logic behind trying to pinpoint a single person out of the massive place. Reaching into her pockets and pulling out her iPhone, she searched through her phonebook and once she came across the name Asshole, she hit the dial button. After a few rings, the line was connected...but not the connection she expected: "The service for this mobile has been suspended. To reactive the line, please call your service provider. Thank you."
Turquoise eyes widened as she brought the phone down after having heard the automated message; her parents had cut her phone line? What in blue hell? Did they want her to get lost? How was she expected to find Tala in the biggest country in the world without any sort of communication device? She felt so naked without her most prized possession, her lifeline! Fuming, she shoved the phone back into her coat pocket and proceeded down the walkway.
How could her parents do this to her? Didn't they care about her? Didn't they love her? Did they hate her? Too tied up in her thoughts, she missed the fact that she was on a direct collision course with another person resulting in a mildly painful hit. Taking a step back and brushing herself off, Dylan let out a noise of frustration. As the indigo haired boy narrowed his ruby eyes at her, she only rolled hers' before taking off.
"Hey! Wait!" The boy caught up with her, "Wait,"
The blonde looked over her shoulder, "I don't have money, I don't have drugs, and no I'm not interested in AIDS,"
"Dylan Ivanov?" He grabbed one of her luggage tags and examined them, "You are," He concluded, "I'm Ian,"
"So, if you stop being a stuck up bitch then I can take you to Tala and we can all go home," As he waited for some sort of response, he studied her. In all honesty, with a name like Dylan he pictured a tomboy with sweats and guy shoes. But that most certainly wasn't the case; she was tall, blonde, and skinny. Her femininity was obvious with vibrant golden hair, straight and ending a couple of inches past her shoulders in some layers. She had Kool-Aid blue eyes identical to that of her brother's except hers' were outlined with a little slate liner and mascara. A touch of pink lip gloss was evident but other than that, she didn't have much else on. She didn't need anything else.
She was good looking, in fact, she was insanely gorgeous. And that was probably why Tala never showed them a picture of her and didn't bother talking about her much in front of them either.
Finally, she exhaled out loudly and rolled her eyes. Getting the hint, he began walking and she followed until he led her to a black Toyota Supra. She gave him a strange look before peeking inside through the windows, "This is your ride?"
"Not classy enough for you?" Ian watched the girl stare the car down, walking behind it and touching the spoilers with what appeared to be hints of fascination and uncertainty. It was when her mitten clad fingers trailed to the rims she realized that someone had been standing behind her.
Standing up and whirling around, she came face to face with the missing Ivanov. He hadn't changed much since the last time she saw him a couple of years back. She hadn't kept up with his beyblading and didn't bother watching his battles on television. Her parents, on the other hand, were probably Tala's biggest fans, watching, recording, and even replaying all his matches religiously. Sometimes they'd take time off work just to visit the country, where the tournament was being held to see him in action. She never did though; she could care less.
He smirked finally and eyed her hand on the car, "See, see, no touch,"
She crossed her arms and a bitchy smile tugged at her lips, "I don't touch shit,"
He patted her on the head, just to let her know who was boss here. After all, he was her senior by two years, "Dylan, this is Bryan, Spencer, and that's Kai," They were pointed out respectively.
"Hi," She raised a hand, "Bags are over there,"
Bryan was quick to make a face and Spencer only cocked a brow while Kai made his way into the passenger seat, not wanting to deal with the imported imbecile.
"No," Tala shook his head, "These are my teammates, not servants,"
The blonde appeared to be confused, "Then who's gonna put my bags in the car?"
"You are," And with that, the trunk was popped open.
The car ride to the Blitzkrieg Boys' residence was expected to take a while, a good hour and a half to be exact. And it wasn't going to be the most comfortable ride of Dylan's life either with four people squished into the backseat. The only good thing about it was the view she had by looking at the side mirror. Wispy blue hair in two colours, eyes the colour of amethyst, and a slightly bad boy vibe – he was a fast climber to number one on her Top 10 list.
"So how was your flight?" The redhead had asked as he turned down the music.
"How's mom and dad?"
"How are you?"
"Tired, cold, and frikkin' hungry," The blonde shifted in her seat as best as she could. Why the hell did these guys have to be so big? They were like fucking mammoths. Nonetheless, she looked out the window surprised by what Moscow looked like, "I thought this place was supposed to be like a big chunk of ice or something?" Bryan cast the blonde an offensive look and Spencer sneered at the American, "There's like actual buildings and stuff here," She added salt to an open wound. Luckily for them, no more stupid comments were made and before they knew it, they were home.
As everyone exited the vehicle, Dylan made a face, "Um, hello? Like who's gonna help with taking my stuff inside?"
"Good question," Tala seemed evidently concerned, "Who's stuff is it again?"
"Obviously it's mine, retard,"
"Oh okay," He nodded, "Is it really heavy?"
"Not that heavy,"
"Great. I'll see you inside,"
The blonde scrunched up her face, "What do you mean?"
The redhead chuckled in sheer mock, "What I mean is this isn't L.A., you're not a princess, and no one's gonna do stuff for you. Get used to it, Dill Pickle," While everyone disappeared into the snow covered two-storey house, 'Dill Pickle' stood there, her mouth hanging open in utter disbelief. Apart from the insane climate, this kinda of treatment was something she wasn't accustomed to.
Yes this story is loosely based off the MTV show Exiled. And myself. For more info on this fic, please see the Note in my profile.
And if you've read the story, you know what to do: hit that review button. Don't just sit there like a hobo.