Heavy Metal Lover

Chapter Nine

The next morning I woke up to the wonderful smell of bacon wafting through the opened balcony doors. My head throbbed, and my eyes felt worn from my embarrassing tear-filled breakdown last night. I groaned remembering my crying all over Martin last night like a schoolgirl who had just spied a girl wearing the same outfit as she.

“Selena? Are you awake?” Martin called out from the balcony. Seconds later, he walked through the door clad in only some loose fitting sweatpants. My throat grew dry as her eyes followed the dangerous V that was at the base of his torso. Sighing, I sat up in bed rubbing my eyes, and hopefully some sense back into my head.

“Good morning your highness,” I hopped out of the bed and curtsied. “Now tell me. Is that bacon that I am smelling?”

A grin grew on his face, “Actually yeah it is, I ordered us breakfast. Care to join me?” I smiled and nodded. Quickly grabbing an oversized t-shirt, my fedora, and sunglasses before going out on the sunny balcony.I sighed appreciatively glancing below and looking at New York down below. The warm summertime air and the far off green of Central Park brought on a sort of peacefulness. I turned away from the railing and joined Martin at the table sighing contentedly.

“Do you think we will have enough time to go to Central Park while we are here?” I grabbed a piece of bacon and moaned appreciatively.

“Yeah definitely, we have a fabric swatch meeting at 5 this evening then another event at around 8. Is this your first time in New York?” He watched me as I served myself to some of the berries, toast, and omelet laid out in front of us.

“Yes and no,” I gauged his reaction to my response as I took a bite of my toast.

“Yes and no?” He rose his coffee to his lips, eyebrows raised in query.

“When my family moved from Spain when I was 5, we had a layover in O’Hare. I never left the airport though.”I answered with a small sad smile.

“Why do you always do that?” He asked concern etched into his forehead, I sighed and look back towards the New York morning skyline.

“It’s a long story. I don’t need to bore you with the semantics,” I brought a waiting cups of water to my lips, feeling my eyes tear up behind sunglasses. I watched as he got up and moved his chair directly next to me and looked at me seriously.

“Tell me.”

I shook my head and looked away from those piercings eyes, holding my breath. “I can’t”

He softly caressed my cheek, turning it to face him, “Please, Selena.Open up to me.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, when the first words started to pour out. “My parents never wanted to have kids. I was mistake caused by too much drinking and a broken condom while they were still living in Madrid.” I felt his thumb wipe away the tears that were slowly falling from my eyes. “Nine months later, little ole me arrived and my parents realized that they couldn’t have me and still continue their lavish partying lifestyle. I grew up for those five years at my abuela’s house and didn’t see my parents after my first birthday until they came back on my fifth, scooped me up and brought me to America. After arriving in California, I saw my parents once a week and was left in the care of nanny after nanny. I made it through school up to my senior year pushing myself harder and harder to try and impress them. I thought if I made them proud that they would love me like all my friend’s parents did to them. One day, during my senior year of high school and my usual househelp and nanny were gone. That day was also my parents weekly visit, but no one showed up. Two weeks later the electricity shut off. Two months later I found myself in a homeless shelter and my parents were still no where to be found. I graduated high school without them. I got into college and graduate in the top of my class without them. I’ve made a living, though not always respectable in people’s eyes, without them. Yet, the betrayal,”My voice cracked, as I realised how hard I was crying, “..the betrayal still hurts. Anything that reminds me of them, reminds me of those horrible years of my life. And the worst part is, I haven’t seen my abuela since I was five. She was the only one who cared for me, my parents didn’t tell her anything. She would have kept me as her own, that’s how loving she is. I don’t even know if she is still alive.”