So, I'm just starting this new story here, I will continue on my first one. I just had this idea pop in my head and- if you know me- then you would know that I have to write down my ideas right away before they go bye bye.
This one sounded good to me and I didn't want it to go bye bye.
Anyway, here is the first part to my new story- which at this minute- I don't know what it's called.
Enjoy.
<3 Nikky~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-Summer POV-
My life sucks. It sucks. No, I don't have one of those horrible lives where my dad is an abusive alcoholic and my mother does absolutely nothing to stop him. I'm not that unlucky. And no, I'm not a complete loner and I'm not picked on at school. My parents are actually both good people, overall, and we're not poor, but we're not rich either. I live in Marshall, Wisconsin. A very small town. I live with my mom and dad and my big sister April. I know what you're thinking. April and Summer. Don't ask me, because I don't even know. I think it has something to do with the fact that my mother's name is October and her mother's name is June and my mother's sister's name is May. It's a strange family, my mother's side. I bet you're wondering why my life sucks, though. It sucks because everyday is the same. I see the same people, do the same things and get the same saying from my mother and father. The "why can't you be more like April?" speech. The one I am tired of hearing. Why can't I be more like April and get all A's, when I get a B. Why can't I be more like April and have a job, when I just applied for one. Why can't I be more like April and clean my room every week, when I do it every two days. I was even given that speech when I told my parents I was going to go vegetarian in the fourth grade! Why can't I, why can't I, why can't I? I guess I think my life sucks because my parents don't really appreciate anything that I do. I am sick of being compared to my sister, who is perfect in all ways. My sister. With her stupid nutmeg brown hair, her sky blue eyes, her stupid all A report cards, her stupid scholarship offers, her stupid acceptance into Yale and just...just...ARGH! Maybe I don't want to be like her! She's a bitch anyway. Well, to me at least. The sucky thing is that she is my only sibling. No other sisters and no brothers. Just my friends and one cousin in New York. I stared at myself in the mirror after hearing the "why can't you be more like April?" speech after I told my mom that I was quitting the dance classes I was taking.
"Why can't you be more like April and finish the things you start?" she asked me. I didn't even bother to answer her, and just came upstairs. Is she going to ask me why I can't be more like April when I turn eighteen in a year and move out of this house? Is she going to say "why can't you be more like April and stay here until you're twenty?" I snickered at the thought of it. There I was now. Staring at my reflection. Staring at my fire red wavy hair and orange highlights, my chocolate brown eyes, and my fair skin complexion. Why couldn't I be more like April? I mentally slapped myself. No! You do not want to be like her!
"You're different, Summer," I said to myself, repeating the words of many who have learned about me. I'm different. I didn't know what that meant when they said it. If it was a good thing or a bad thing. I knew I was different and I saw that as a good thing. I wore weird outfits every now and then, my hair was less than normal, and I wasn't afraid to smack a bitch. I felt suffocated here. I couldn't do anything or go anywhere without being interrogated by my parents and if I gave the wrong reason, it was the "why can't you be more like April?" time. I gritted my teeth. April, April, April. I hated that month now. I always thought life sucked, but that trip to New York changed everything.
-Jay's POV-
The name is Jason. I go by Jay. And life sucks. Why? Because when you have parents who want you to be perfect, so perfect that you're fake, and they slam everything you do that they don't like, you tend to think life sucks. That's the deal with me, at least. My parents are filthy freaking rich. They did what they wanted. Dad was a big-shot lawyer who wanted me, his only kid, to be just like him. I didn't want to be like him. I didn't want to live in this big mansion in Chicago or have people to boss around, believe it or not. I didn't want all the money I had. I know I should be grateful for the crap I have, you know thanks to the bad economy and crap, but I don't want it. I'd rather give the money to the people who actually need it.
"Son, money is like food. You need it everyday, so don't even think about giving it away to other people for nothing," my dad always tells me. He's the shallow bastard you'd expect a rich man to be. And my mother, well she's the rich woman you'd expect her to be. Wrapped up with herself and a sack of silicon. She doesn't work, never has because my dad makes enough money for everything. He scolded me everyday because I wasn't clean, cut and proper like him. I didn't wear suits everyday or slick my hair back or anything like that- like him. I wear my black hair in spikes, I wear whatever the hell I feel like wearing, and I was in a garage band before my dad threatened my band mate's parents' jobs unless I quit. Crappy of him, I know. I hate the stuff I have to do here. Be perfect because I'm rich.
"One day son, my law firm is going to be yours. After Harvard, of course," Dad would tell me. My future is all planned out. Finish high school, go to the University of New York, go to Harvard Law School, become a lawyer, take over his law firm, and get married to who he wanted me to marry and have kids and pass his law firm on to them. That would be my life. Oh, also go to social events like the Governor's Ball.
"We are high-class society, Jason. We deserve all the things we have," Mom told me while she was getting a massage in the backyard by the waterpark sized pool.
"Not always," I said walking back to the house. She didn't deserve most of the good things she got. My dad sure as hell didn't deserve most of the good things he got, either. "And it's Jay!" I called over my shoulder. Jay. Jay Night. Not Jason Night. Not Jason Night the third. Just Jay Night. Just Jay. I always thought life sucked, but that trip to New York changed everything.
-Summer's POV-
"Summer! Come on! We gotta get going!" Mom called up the stairs. I groaned and grabbed my last bag and ran out to the car. The summer before senior year has begun and we were going to New York to visit my dad's brother and his family. The only person I could genuinely get along with there was my cousin, Jimmy, who was twenty-two and in a mob. He only told me that he was apart of that mob. He didn't trust anyone else with that secret. I got in the back seat and prepared for the trip to the airport in Madison. It wasn't too far away, but going anywhere, sitting next to April the whole time, would take forever. Good thing I brought my iPod. April leaned over as soon as I put my headphones in to see what I was listening to.
"Why do you always listen to the Beatles?" she asked.
"Because they're awesome," I said, looking down at the iPod. They were legendary. So was Journey.
"Well, their music is old and they're dead," she said. I looked over at her.
"Wow. For someone so smart, you should know that only two of them are dead," I retorted.
"Who's alive?" she scoffed.
"Ringo and Paul," I answered quickly.
"Ringo? You're making that up," she sneered.
"Well, check your little iPhone for that one," I said, turning my attention back to my music. I loved music more than anything. It was my escape. My escape from my parents demands for me to be just like April. I snuck a side glance over at April and saw her researching the Beatles on her phone. I snicked. "Yellow Submarine" began playing and I sat back and relaxed.
Later, we got to the airport. We were in the middle of taking our bags out of the trunk, when a very nice little boy decided to give my mother the perfect excuse for another segment of "why can't you be more like April?"
"Look at that girl's hair, mommy!" he said, pointing at my head. Thanks kid, I thought.
"For god's sakes, Summer. Why do you have to constantly keep adding those orange highlights? I keep telling you to dye it to a more normal color, but you refuse to! Why can't you be more like April and have it a pretty brown color?" she said. I rolled my eyes.
"Mom, this is the natural color. I add the orange highlights because I want to and I'm not going to dye it some other color because I like it this way," I snapped, putting it up in a messy ponytail. She only sighed and shook her head. I was still pissed when we boarded the plane. Just my luck, I get the seat on the plane next to April. She was still smirking after mom's criticism of my hair. I groaned. This was going to be a long trip.
-Jay's POV-
"You all set, my boy?" Dad asked. We had to go to New York for a series of social events. Now that it was summer, and I had no school and dad could take the entire three months off- we had that much money- we could go to all of them.
"Yeah," I answered.
"Well, let's go. Rodrick is all ready with the limo," mom urged us out the door. Freaking a, man! Did we have to take the limo everywhere? Jeesh. We got in the limo, while the butlers and Rodrick loaded our bags in the trunk.
"So, Jason, I was thinking about Harvard," Dad began when the limo started to move.
"What about it?" I mumbled.
"Instead of getting a law degree in..." he trailed off. In my mind. He started babbling about what classes he wanted me to take and when he wanted me to take them. I pretended like I was listening. I was so uninterested in becoming a lawyer or becoming rich. In my mind, I was playing a mental CD player. Right now, I was listening to "Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles, the best band ever, next to Journey.
"Is the penthouse going to be ready when we get there, dear?" Mom asked dad.
"It should be, honey," he replied. I hated their stupid fake nicknames for each other. They pretended to have love only for each other. I knew dad cheated on mom twice a week with her yoga instructor and mom cheated on dad three times a week with his personal driver. They are so meant to be, I thought sarcastically.
"Jason, where is that suit I gave you to wear?" Dad asked me. He was looking at my black jeans and white Linkin Park t-shirt.
"Too hot," I lied.
"Jason Kevin Night the third," he said. God I hated how messed up my name sounded. "I expect you to wear a suit every time you leave that penthouse, do you hear me?" he asked, using his scary voice. When I was a kid, I feared that voice. Now it just annoyed me.
"Yeah, whatever," I mumbled. He looked satisfied with the lie I fed him. I would wear a friggin' suit to the social events, never any other time. When was he going to see me any other time? We got to the airport a while later and boarded the plane. First class.
"Hot towel?" the female flight attendant asked, checking me out.
"No thanks," I said, not paying attention to her. She hesitated before walking away. I hated these flight attendants who always flirted with me. I was told by fellow rich girls that I'm hot and rich and why didn't I have a girlfriend? Because I don't want one. At least, I didn't want the one my dad picked for me. I wanted a girlfriend that I wanted. I wanted to pick my own girlfriend. I wanted to go out with a girl because I liked her and not because my dad told me to. Soon after the first flight attendant left, another came. I sighed after she left. This was going to be a long flight.
-Summer's POV-
"Fred! October! April! Summer!" Aunt Flora greeted us as we entered the airport waiting area. She hugged each of us. I pretended to be happy to see her.
"Flora, good to see you," Dad greeted back.
"Ey, ey, ey, don't forget about me little bro," Uncle Mark said, man-hugging dad. He went down the line and sighed at my hair.
"I'm keeping it at its natural color," I said before he could get a word out. And you can deal with it, I added in my thoughts.
"I'm pretty sure the orange isn't natural," he criticized, which made April smirk at me. I fought the urge to flip her off.
"I like it and it's going to stay," I said. He sighed and grabbed some of our bags and led us out to their car. This was not going to be a fun summer.
-Jay's POV-
We got off the plane and found the limo driver holding our last name up.
"Night family?" he asked, when we walked over to him.
"That's us," Dad said.
"Follow me," he said, leading us out. I saw mom check him out. I rolled my eyes. When we got to the limo, I groaned. Another damn SUV limo.
"We deserve it, Jason," Mom whispered to me before getting in.
"It's Jay," I mumbled back. I sat down across from her and dad and put my headphones on to listen to my escape from all of this. Music. It filled me with peace and calmed me down, no matter how pissed I was. It took me away from my world and brought me into another one where I was free from my father's demands.
~~~~What do you guys think so far? Good? Not good? I'm kinda thinking about putting it into the Watty Awards, but I really wanna know what you guys think of it first. So please, please, if you would, comments! Vote if you like it! Comment too!