MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MY GORGEOUS READERS!!!!
Are y'all having a good Christmas? I know I am<3
Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy. xx
Please leave a comment below if you dooooo...
Madeline
The next couple of days went by in a blur. Rehearsal for Baby Its Cold Outside was all day every day, and by the time I got home, I wanted nothing more but then to curl up in my Tinker Bell pajamas and sleep. But as it grew closer and closer to Christmas Eve, I found myself growing more and more excited for the big day.
And tomorrow my parents were coming. I'd missed them; I couldn't wait to see them without the presence of 'work' looming over our shoulders like a cloud..
Ryan was one of the best dance partners I had ever had. He was an incredible dancer, but he was also such a laugh, always cracking jokes and making me smile. In just a couple of days, we were already friends. Ryan was most of the reason I learned the dance so quickly. He stayed after rehearsal was over to help me learn the choreography. He was also a great lifter, and cute too. He was twenty-four though, far too old for me.
Now it was Saturday evening, and as I walked home from rehearsal, I could feel my Christmas spirit kicking in. The store windows were lined with tinsel and lights, the doors had wreaths and bows on them and the little bakery across the street had a little display in the window featuring a dancing snowman. People were everywhere, finishing up their Christmas shopping so they could get home to their families. Next to me, a middle age women was being dragged by her young son and daughter into Hamleys Toy Store. In the Hamleys display, a train wound its way around a giant neighborhood of gingerbread houses, while a row of multi-colored nutcracker dolls looked on.
I peaked past the display, into the store. On a raised platform decorated with tinsel snowflakes and Christmas trees, sat Santa. There was a little boy on his lap, probably listing all of the things he wanted for Christmas. The line wound its way all around the store. Eager children hung onto their parents arms, excited for their chance to meet Santa Clause. I realized, suddenly, as I watched the women and her two kids enter at the back of the line, that even though the parents knew that Santa wasn’t real, they were still willing to stand in line for two hours just so they could see their child happy. I guess that was what Christmas was all about.
I stepped back from the display and continued on my way. It even smelled like Christmas, I noted as I passed the bakery with the dancing snowman. The air smelled of cinnamon, pine trees and gingerbread. My breath puffed out in front of me, visible in the chilly evening air. It began to snow, adding to what was already on the ground. The little flakes fell onto my nose and eyelashes, and I blinked, turning my face up to the sky and sticking out my tongue to catch the cold wetness.
I was almost skipping by the time I reached Isabelle’s apartment. I stopped before the steps to admire Big Ben, standing tall and regal in the distance, against the darkening sky. I adored the old architecture of London. It was so classic and Victorian. I could see why my Grandmother had loved London so much. She and I had always shared a love of vintage items.
“Merry Christmas, Grandma,” I whispered into the night. Then I turned and hurried up the steps into the warm apartment building.
“Good Evening Miss Madeline,” the uniformed doorman, Bo, held open the door for me. Bo was pudgy and friendly, with the kind of loud voice you'd expect from a weatherman.
“Hi Bo! How are you?”
“I’m doing very well, thanks for asking,” Bo called and I laughed, waving goodbye and continuing into the building.
The lobby was absolutely gorgeous; it had been professionally decorated. A huge tree stood in the middle, decorated with hundreds of tiny gold ornaments. Under it, there were hundreds of beautifully wrapped presents. I wasn’t sure whether they were real or fake, but they added a joyful ambiance to the room. The fireplace was lined with pine branches, and there were Christmas centerpieces on each glass table. Everything looked so expensive I was afraid to touch it. I was so clumsy and I would probably end up breaking something.
I hurried over to the elevators, waving hello to all of my “neighbors”. I had met a couple of people who lived in the building. Most of them were normal, albeit very wealthy people. But there were a couple of celebrities who lived here, besides Isabelle. It was rumored that Naomi Campbell had a suite here, as well as Elton John. I hadn’t seen either of them, though I had caught a glimpse of the CEO of Vodafone, who apparently lived here as well. I greeted Andy, the man at the front desk, before pressing the “up” button on the elevator.
I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. Even the elevator was decorated. The shiny gold walls were hung with little wreaths. I couldn’t help but smile. It was going to be a good Christmas.
Inside my bag, my phone began to vibrate. I pulled it out, glancing at the caller id. “Mom” it read. I pressed accept, and held the phone to my ear, swinging my bag over my left shoulder.
“Hi,” I said cheerfully. I was pretty sure she was just calling me to confirm the flight times for tomorrow.
“Hi Madeline…I--” my mom faltered. She sounded businesslike, which I knew was her way of dealing with bad news. I began to panic. Was there something wrong with my Grandfather? I knew his health wasn't great, especially since my Grandmother had passed.
“What’s wrong, Mom? Is it Grandpa?”
“No, your grandfather is fine.”
“Oh,” I exhaled, relieved, “Then what’s up?”
“Madeline, I need to talk to you.” She said briskly.
I bit my lip, afraid I already knew what was coming, “What is it?” I asked hesitantly.
“I’m afraid…I’m afraid your father and I won’t be able to fly out to visit you tomorrow. We got called in to work. I’m so sorry.”
I felt my heart sink down to the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t believe it. They'd both gotten called into work. At the same time?
“You’re canceling?”
“I know its late notice and I’m sorry. But duty calls,” she laughed dryly.
I played with the hem of my sweater as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. I stepped out and stopped in the middle of the hallway, which suddenly felt constricting. I tried to hide my disappointment from my mother, “Oh, that’s alright, Mommy,"
“But the good news is, I called your Aunt Lavinia, and she invited you to spend Christmas with her and Uncle Rufus and Isabelle and her guest for Christmas” my Mom said airily, like that was supposed to be better than spending Christmas with my parents.
I wasn't sure that I really wanted to go to Uncle Rufus' and Aunt Lavinia's home in Devon. I hadn't been there in two or three years. I used to go every summer, but the old estate was hardly a good place to spend Christmas. I'd never been in a home as cold as the one my Aunt and Uncle lived in.
I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. I knew she wanted me to thank her, but all I could manage was a small, "Oh."
But I don't want to spend Christmas with Aunt Lavinia and Uncle Rufus and Isabelle and her wickedly hot tease of a boyfriend. I want to spend it with you.
“I had my assistant send your Christmas present over to their house.” Great. She couldn't even send me my own Christmas present, her secretary had to do it, "I'll call you on Christmas, okay?"
I knew right away that she wouldn't. Dad either.
I nodded, momentarily forgetting that she could see you, "O-Okay. Mom?" I began.
"I have to go. I have a meeting. Take care, Madeline." Then the phone disconnected.
I stared at the ivory painted ceiling, blinking back tears of frustration. I don’t know why I had expected it to be any different. Nothing was ever going to change. I would always be second. Work would always come first.
I rubbed my eyes. I was not going to cry about this. I was seventeen, not seven. I had two options. I could go with Isabelle to her parent's house for Christmas, or spend Christmas in Isabelle's grand flat. Alone.
Suddenly, all the Christmas spirit inside me evaporated. I would be completely alone on Christmas. Even Carmen and Mina wouldn’t be there. Isabelle had given them a week off. The thought made me cold, tired and nauseous.
I made my way down the hall to Isabelle’s flat door and punched in the combination in the keypad. I pressed down on the golden handle and the door swung open. I was greeted with the smell of expensive perfume and soft piano music. I closed the door quietly behind me and hung up my coat, peering into the living room as I did so.
There were at least fifty people in Isabelle’s luxurious flat. My eyes found Isabelle in the midst of all the people, wearing a stunning cocktail dress. She was surrounded by a group of her model friends, laughing. It looked as though Isabelle had decided to throw a party. As usual, she hadn’t included me in her plans. Oh well.
There was a loud pop from the kitchen, followed by a chorus of cheers. Someone must’ve opened some champagne. The professionally decorated Christmas tree twinkled. This was no sloppy high school party. Not like the ones back in Charlotte with keg stands and arm wrestling and seven minutes in heaven. This was a penthouse party. Everyone was talking and laughing, and drinking champagne and cognac, while they snacked on oysters and caviar and smoked flavored cigarettes.
I snuck past the party to my bedroom, hoping that no one would notice me. They didn’t. I was invisible.
I closed the door to my room quietly behind me and threw my bag carelessly on the floor. I changed out of my dance clothes and into my favorite Tinker Bell pajamas. I pulled my hair into a sloppy ponytail and began to unpack. I took all of the clothes that I was going to bring to the hotel that my parents and I would’ve stayed in out of the suitcase and dumped them on the floor. I picked up the first article of clothing, a warm sweater with a cat on the front that Isabelle had long ago dubbed “uglier than crocs”. I was just about to hang it up when there was a soft knock on my door.
I hung up the sweater and padded over to the door, opening it to reveal a frowning Harry. He smelled faintly of alcohol.
“Thank God,” he whispered, “I was hoping this was your room.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation.
“Save me?” This was his way of asking if I would let him in my room.
“You can come in,” I opened the door wider so he could squeeze through, “Sorry it’s kind of messy in here.”
I hadn’t talked to Harry since the night of he and Isabelle's anniversary date. But considering the two huge rocks Isabelle was wearing on her ears and the number of magazines with pictures of Isabelle and Harry on the front, I figured their anniversary date had gone well. TMZ had agreed.
I tried to stay in my room or go out whenever Harry was over, because when he was, he and Isabelle were usually very busy in her room. I definitely did not want to suffer the embarrassment of walking in on them, so I let them have the flat to themselves.
“Thank you. I can't believe she makes me come to these things. Her friends are so fucking boring.” The way his jaw was set held annoyance. When I'd first met Harry, I would've thought a cocktail party filled to the brim with leggy models would've totally been his scene. But now that I knew a bit about him, I realized that Harry's scene was more like chilling in a pub with a couple of guys and a pint of beer.
“That bad?” I raised my eyebrows and Harry grinned sheepishly, flashing his adorable dimples.
“I brought you some brandy,” he said, holding out a glass filled with amber liquid.
I took the glass from him and eyed the alcohol. I'd never tried brandy before. It looked like it would taste good, but looks could be deceiving.
I inhaled the strong, thick scent of liquor. I took a tiny sip and almost gagged at the burning liquid. Harry chuckled at the face I made, taking the glass from me and setting it on the dressing table.
I sat down on my unmade bed and Harry sat beside me. My messiness didn’t seem to bother him. Then again, he did live with Louis.
“I'm sorry I interrupted your packing. I saw you come in and I couldn’t take one more minute of that party. Scooter’s voice is even more annoying when he’s drunk and caviar makes me want to be sick,” Harry swept a hand through his curls.
“It’s alright," I gave him a smile to let him know I wasn't annoyed. I liked his company. "I’m actually unpacking.”
“Why?” Harry asked, “Isabelle said you were staying with your parents during Christmas.”
“Not anymore,” I murmured, standing back up and taking a pair of skinny jeans out of the suitcase and folding them neatly.
“Are you okay?” Harry must’ve seen my face and known something was wrong because he suddenly became concerned.
“Yeah,” I said, walking over to my dresser and placing the jeans in one of the drawers.
“You’re a horrible liar. Do you know that?” Harry murmured. I looked up from my jeans to meet his eyes. He was smirking, but his green eyes held worry, “What’s wrong, love?”
"My parents canceled." I avoided his gaze.
"Oh, Maddie."
I sat down on the floor cross-legged. Harry sat opposite me, his knees touching mine. His gaze was heavy, traveling over my face as I told him the story.
“They were flying into London tomorrow to spend Christmas with me but they had to work,” I told him, looking at the ceiling, and then at the floor. “They always do this. Every Christmas. I just thought this one might be different. It’s like their lives revolve around their jobs."
Harry's green eyes were watching me intently.
"And then my Mom called Aunt Lavinia and she offered for me to spend Christmas at her house. And I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that. But it's either spending Christmas at the haunted manor or spending Christmas alone.” I rambled, pieces of my hair falling from my pony tail. I reached up to tighten it. The hair band was so stretched out that I had to wrap it around five times to secure it.
“Haunted manor, huh?" Harry grinned, "You're not spending Christmas alone. I'll be there." he said as if his presence at my Aunt and Uncle's house was going to make the trip sound better. Which it kind of did.
“I-I don’t want to intrude,” I told him shyly, “I know you don’t get a lot of time off and I don’t want to ruin your vacation.”
“You won't be ruining anything. Isabelle's parents hate me. Especially her Father,” Harry’s jaw set. I had a sneaking suspicion the feeling was mutual.
“I don’t think Uncle Rufus likes me either,” I admitted and he chuckled deeply, wetting his bottom lip.
“How could he not like the girl who wears Tinker Bell pajamas?”
I abruptly looked down. Sure enough, I was wearing my Tinker Bell Jammies. I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks. I’d forgotten I was wearing these.
“Will you come? I’ve been dreading this vacation for weeks. But with you there it might be…bearable,” Harry gave me a playful grin.
I nodded. It wasn't like I had much of a choice. I didn't want to admit it, but Harry made things more than bearable. He made them fun.
Harry stood up and I followed suit. He took my jeans back out of my dresser drawer and handed them to me, grinning crookedly. His eyes met mine before they landed on my Jingle Ball flyer next to my TV.
“What’s this?” Harry asked, picking up the flyer and opening it to where my name was circled in red, “You’re in this?”
“Yes. I'm doing a duet. See?" My finger brushed my name, under Michael Buble's.
“Why didn’t you tell me?! That's incredible!”
“It was kind of a last minute thing. The original dancer injured herself, so they asked me to do it,” I smiled bashfully. My Christmas spirit was returning, thanks to Harry.
"We're in it, too." Harry pointed. "So I'll see you there."
Harry put the flyer back on the dresser, turning and meeting my eyes. We stood like that for a moment before Harry spoke.
“I’m really sorry about your parents, Maddie. I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better. I don't want you to be sad.”
“You already have made me feel better,” I told him sincerely, and his handsome features lit up in a smile.
“Let's go tell Isabelle you're coming with us on Christmas,” Harry grabbed his glass of brandy off of the dresser and crossed his muscular arms over his T-shirt. He didn't look at all like he was attending a cocktail party at all. He didn't even look like a member of a preppy boyband. He wore a plain black T-shirt that clung to his torso, black jeans, and scuffed boots.
“I can’t go out there wearing this,” I said, gesturing to my Tinker Bell pajamas, "See? Jammies."
A mischievous smirk crossed his face. Harry snatched a jeweled hair clip that was settled on my dresser and stuck it in his hair, wild with curls. Strands stuck out at odd angles. He posed like a model.
"There. Now I'm a fairy princess, too."
I burst out in giggles at the goofy grin on his face. He walked over to me my hand was taken in his, swiftly tugging me towards the door.
"C'mon, Tinker Bell. Let's go crash that party."
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!
I want to thank y'all for being so supportive of my story. It means alot to me because I want to be a writer when I grow up. I hope you and your families are having a wonderful Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza this year.
I also want to thank you for the kind comments and votes. Your comments always make me smile. :))
Does anyone want to be my internet friend? If you do, you can message me! I love to talk to people. I'm a very social personnnn!
I just realized that this book is probably going to be very loooooong. Because I'm already on the sixth chapter and nothing has even happened yet hehe...
Next chapter is the Jingle Ball. And things will start to get...interesting. tehe.
I'm also thinking about changing the cover on my story. The end :)
Okay, I should probably get back to family now. MERRY CHRISTMASSSS TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE IT!
And don't forget to comment and vote if you like it. i LOOOOVE YOUUUU<3