Layla Stevenson was a young woman living in Los Angeles trying to make her way as a hairdresser. A little broken inside, but trying to make the best of it. Dealing with her mother's death and her father's eccentricities. Layla never expected to hav...
Layla hung up her phone, dished up her dinner, and sat down on her couch in the living room. Silence enveloped her as she gazed up to the mantle, looking at the pictures of her mother, and her urn.
It's really hard sometimes mom. I wish you were here to talk to, I feel as if I'm standing at the edge of a cliff and something is about to happen. I hope I'm making you proud, I know you know I do hair, because of you. Dads difficult, but you know that too. I'm just struggling.
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
In spring of 1980, days before Layla's 20th birthday her mother passed away suddenly, a car accident, she was dead on impact. Leaving her heartbroken father to help pick up her pieces. Not that he was much help as he was drowning in his own sorrows. He was always an eccentric man, he is in the music business after all. Mark Stevenson is a world renownd music producer, but losing his beloved wife made him even more out there. Layla had to figure her life out, and fast.
She decided to honor her mom, she would become a hairdresser, as that was what her mom was. She fought hard to get her clientele, to become good in this industry. Apparently it was paying off since she was fully booked and currently doing rockstars hair.
Overnight Layla learned how to become an adult and how to fend for herself. All of a sudden no one was there to help her. With her mother gone and her father wrapped up in anything to distract him from the sorrow he feels. Multiple girlfriends, flying here and there to avoid being home with spare time on his hands.
Time does not heal wounds but it makes them easier to deal with.
Layla snapped out of her thoughts and got up to do the dishes. " Maybe I do know how he feels, as I have demons too."
Saturday Night
Nikki walked up the pathway to the front door to Layla's apartment and knocked.
"Coming!" he heard muffled through the door.
Once Layla opened the door he saw her hunched over grabbing onto the collar of a black dog.
"Oh shit you have a dog?! I freaking love dogs, what's his name?" Nikki asked closing the door and sitting down to pet the grey muzzled dog.
"Her name is Quinn. She's 13." replied Layla.
"She's so spunky!" he chuckled, "Who's a beautiful girl? Quinn is!" he said, rubbing and smushing the dogs face. Quinn replied enthusiastically by licking Nikki's face.
He got up off of the floor and dusted the dog hair off of his pants, he was finally able to take all of Layla in. She looked stunning in a leopard print mini dress, boots, and a leather jacket. He studied her face admiring her beauty.
"You look amazing," he said softly.
"Right back at 'cha." smiled Layla.
"Are you ready to party with the Crue?"
She smirked and grabbed her bag and keys and opened the door back up.
"I was born ready rockstar."
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
Hi everyone! Thank you for reading my story! This chapter is a tad short but it is important. I added a dog into the story, she's my actual dog Quinn ❤️ my 13 year old rescue. Vote and comment! XOXO Grace
