1.1 • 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 // lana del rey

𝐨 𝐧 𝐞 : 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒

"I just don't understand why she has to come!" I grumbled loudly, thudding down the steps as my mother set the dining table, and my father was watching the food cook in the oven.

"Your uncle's girlfriend is practically part of the family now, Gabby," chided Mum knowingly, placing her hands on her hips and sighing. "They've been together for almost a year now."

"Yet this is the first time we've met her?" I retorted glumly, slumping against the wall and slipping in my earbuds. "I don't know. What if she's horrible?"

"My brother's choice isn't that bad, Gabs," grinned Dad, serving up the steaming steaks onto the table and wiping his brow of sweat. "I'm sure she'll be fine. She sounds like she's a lot younger though."

Mum looked up abruptly, eager to hear about drama. "Is she?" She asked interestedly. "How young?"

Dad shifted uncomfortably and lowered his voice. "Well..." He said slowly. "I reckon about twelve years."

"Twelve?" I exclaimed loudly, pulling out my earbuds. "She's 34, and he's 46? That's mad."

"You think that's mad? You're twenty and still living at home, that's mad, young lady." I rolled my eyes. Mum knew my job was on hold, but she always took every opportunity she could to highlight the problem.

"Leave her alone, Jan," chided Dad gently. Suddenly the doorbell rang and Mum sprang towards the door, while Dad and I leaned curiously into the hallway to catch our first glimpse of Uncle Tony's girlfriend.

She was absolutely stunning.

Eyes dark and hooded with winged black mascara, her lips tinted a blood red shade and laboriously applied, tall and slim and incredibly beautiful.

Her hair was set in dark brown waves down her back, and her neck and wrists were adorned with pretty jewels and diamonds, obviously bought by my uncle.

She was wearing a white dress that was cropped above the knees, and was frowning politely at Uncle Tony, whose hand was placed firmly on her ass. I winced at the supermodel girl stood beside my beer-bellied, gravelly-voiced uncle, wondering how the pair of them had ended up together.

"Nigel!" Exclaimed Tony, extracting himself from his girlfriend and hugging his brother brusquely, then placing an enthusiastic kiss on Mum's cheek.

"Hi, Tony," grimaced Dad. He gestured to my uncle's girlfriend. "Who's this?"

"This is Lana," beamed Tony proudly, wrapping his arm back around Lana's petite frame again. She winced slightly, but smoothed her facial expression, smiled gently and waved.

"Hi," she said. Her voice was smooth as liquid chocolate, beautiful but oddly chilling. "It's so nice of you to invite us." I literally stood still, mouth ajar, eyes bulging, as she smiled serenely. She was undoubtedly the prettiest person. Ever.

♪

Soon we were all seated around the dinner table. Mum had purposefully placed me beside Lana, and I couldn't help but inhale her intoxicating perfume. She smelled of nostalgia, of the 50s, but beautiful and modern at the same time.

"So, Lana, what do you do for work?" Inquired Dad, through an embarrassingly large mouthful of food.

Before she could reply, my uncle butted in and proclaimed loudly, "She's a model. And a very good one." Uncle Tony laughed loudly and downed the rest of his beer. Lana shifted uncomfortably and my parents flushed.

"I also like to sing," she offered weakly, obviously eager to steer the conversation away from her profession. "Occasionally. I'm actually in a band, but we're looking for a drummer right now."

"Dessert!" Cried Mum, slicing through the awkward silence and clearing the plates. "I'll go and grab it, it should be ready by now."

"So," I cleared my throat nervously. I hated silence. "You write songs?" Lana looked down at me with a curious expression, which quickly broke into a smile.

"Yeah," she said, looking up swiftly at Tony and then turning her attention fully back to me. "Yeah, nothing special, though. Maybe you could come round and see the band someday. We're at --"

Just then, my uncle cleared his throat loudly and gulped down more beer, locking eyes with Lana, and she fell silent, winking at me ever so slightly.

After dessert, Lana and Tony were already standing to leave. Lana explained that Tony shouldn't have drunk so much, and that he usually felt ill afterwards.

Dad scratched his head and frowned, but nodded anyway. Just when they were about to leave, Lana caught my eye and slid to the bathroom with a wink. As my dad embraced Tony, I followed.

"Hey."

Lana grabbed my arm and pulled me into the hallway. In her hand was a slip of parcel paper. "Listen. This is the address where my band play. Tony didn't want you to know because --" Lana faltered. "Anyway, come and see us sometime. I'm usually there."

"Lana!" Bellowed Tony.

"Gabs!" Called Dad. Lana smirked at me playfully then raced down the hall, still with her hand wrapped around my arm. As she crossed over the threshold to the door, her hand slipped away as quickly as it had come.

Then she was gone.