This Is Me

Picture of Harley ( If I can get it to work (: )----> 

I started to sing quietly along to my iPod as the plane took off. I seriously hated to fly, it was awful. I hated knowing that if something went wrong, I wouldn't be of any use at all. The only reason that I was on this plane was because it was the quickest way to get to England from Texas. I began to play nervously with the hem of my t-shirt. It was one of my tattiest t-shirts but I didn't care. It was my comfiest. And woe betide anybody in this damn plane that gave me dirty looks for wearing it. I loathed flying, and my mother had upgraded me into first class. Stupid bitch left when I was three. The only reason she had agreed to be my mother again was because my dad died in a particularly gruesome car crash two weeks ago. I smiled as a hostess pushing a drinks carriage walked past and gave me a "what the hell is that scruffy girl doing in first class" look. Suppose I deserved it. I was wearing my sweatpants, a pair of old red converse, and my tatty shirt. I suppose I looked like a commoner to them. But I was. My dad had brought me up without much money. And he'd done a damn good job of me for the past 18 years. And I wasn't complaining. I was raised on a horse ranch, so yeah, I was definitely not averse to getting myself dirty. Getting thrown off horses constantly had its advantages I suppose (grin). My mother on the other hand... Well, she was a lawyer. She never did anything to do with getting dirty. Except being a lawyer of course. Apparently she was the English version of Cochran. Lovely. She was also a very girly girl. I dreaded seeing what she had put in my closet at my new house.

As I got off the plane I saw a huge black Rolls Royce Phantom and grimaced to myself. I really hoped that wasn't for me. Then my mother stepped out of it and I laughed. She was wearing a white skirt suit. I walked slowly through the crowd toward her. As I reached her she grimaced at my attire and ushered me quickly into the phantom.

"Honey what ARE you wearing??" She asked, disgust in her eyes. I smiled at her.

"I wanted to be comfy on the plane. It was a very long flight after all." She sighed at me and answered her now ringing cell phone. We drove for an hour and a half through the busy city streets and I frowned at it all. It looked too busy and big for my liking. I played with my lip ring and hummed to myself quietly as we pulled into an enormous driveway that I presumed to belong to our house. As the phantom stopped outside the doors a boy no older than 19 hurried quickly to the door and opened it for me so that I could get out. I smiled sweetly at him and stepped out of the car, noticing small scars on his bottom lip as I did so. I smiled widely as I noticed a small patch of tattoo that was showing on his wrist.

"Miss Harlequin I presume?" He asked in a low, silky smooth American accent. I nodded slightly as I felt my knees go weak. "I am Joshua. Your personal butler." He smiled at me. My smile vanished and I frowned at my mother.

"Seriously? You employ butlers? I can't believe you." I stalked into the house, found the room that was mine, went in and slammed the door behind me. I turned round and gasped loudly. It was pink. All of it. Every single thing in the room was pink. I laughed loudly. Making a mental note to buy some paint at my next possible chance. I slid my converse off and walked over to the laptop on the desk. I sat down and turned it on. As I waited for everything to load I decided that I wanted some music on. And looked round for an iPod dock. There wasn't one. I groaned. How was I going to listen to or charge it? I walked downstairs barefoot and ran straight into a man around 35 years old.

"Shit, sorry. I'm Harlequin. Do you know where I can find an iPod dock? I don't seem to have one in my room." I babbled nervously at him.

"Yes, miss Harlequin. I believe Joshua has one in his bedroom. I can escort you if you wish?" He said in the dullest most monotonous voice I had ever heard in my life.

"Uhm no, that's OK. If you could tell me where it is I'd be quite gratefull though. Mister....?"

"I am Lucas. Joshua's bedroom is in the basement. Go down those stairs there, turn left, and it is the last on the right." I smiled widely at him.