Numbers || Andy Biersack

chapter eighteen

I'd only been in London for two days, but I already felt like I could breathe. It was such a drastic change. From the moment I stepped off the plane, I was wrapped up in a different culture. From the accents to the minute differences, I was intrigued by it all. My stepmom, Claire, and brother, Jack, met me at the airport. My dad was away on business in Belgium. I was a little disappointed since he was really the only person in this country that I actually knew. However, Claire was really welcoming, and luckily Jack wasn't a brat. He was seven and actually pretty adorable. Despite the fact that we were only half-siblings, we shared the same blond hair and amber eyes. 

Claire had decorated a room in their flat just for me. The walls were white, which could have been boring, but it really worked in the room. The bedding was crisp ivory with a thin lace canopy covering. Light pink accessories dotted the room, adding a hint of color.  A white suede sofa sat by the wall-sized window with a eggshell wood coffee table before it. Out the window, a brilliant view of London was visible. I could only imagine how beautiful it would be at night, with the skyscrapers all lit up and the city alive. It was this perfect chic minimalist space.

"I love it," I'd gushed to Claire.

She smiled back. "I'm glad. I really hope you like it here."

And I really did. In the morning, I awoke to a full layout of breakfast spread out on the dining room table by the personal chef, Pierre, that was delicious. Back home with my mom, I was lucky if she even made cereal for me. Normally, I was left to my own devices when it came to food in the morning. However, now I was choosing from an array of fresh cut fruit, belgian waffles, crisp bacon, and so much more.

"Did you have anything you wanted to do today?" Claire asked, her words wrapped around her soft accent.

"I think I'm just going to unpack, then maybe explore the city a bit," I replied, then took a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"I could show you a few places, if you'd like. London is such an amazing city."

"I think I just kind of want to check it out myself, if that's okay."

"That's fine." Claire smiled. "You're sixteen. I trust you can handle yourself. I have to drop Jack off at school--he has a few more days of school before his holiday starts--and then I'll be running some errands. Just make sure you're back by five for dinner, alright?"

"No problem," I said, already loving this new freedom.

"Jack, hurry up! We're leaving in five minutes," Claire called to Jack, who was still getting ready, as she stood.

I finished my breakfast and waved goodbye to my new sort-of family. They were both really nice, but it still felt kind of weird. It was like living with strangers, really nice strangers. I never thought I'd say this, but I couldn't wait until my dad got here. Our relationship had definitely improved and it would be nice to see a familiar face. 

As I got up, Riot stood from her spot at my feet. She'd traveled really well and Jack loved her. She was one source of comfort in this strange place. 

Once in my room, I opened up my suitcase and began transferring all of my folded clothes into the dresser and closet. I spent about an hour doing this before I reached the bottom of my luggage. I picked up the crisp cream envelope that rested alone in the now empty bag. Admittedly, I was curious as to what was in the envelope Andy had given me. The urge to open it was overwhelming.

However, I didn't really want any reminders of him. I was finally starting to feel a semblance of contentment. I didn't want to ruin that by seeing a picture of bright forget-me-not irises and roseate lips. For now, I needed to take a step back from everything to do with Andy. So instead of opening the letter, I dropped it in the drawer of my nightstand.