She's With The Band

𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Hi guys!!

Hope you like this chapter :)

(It's cute I swear)

Aubrey's Point of View:

What a change. England to Italy.

Especially weather-wise, jeez.

Italy is so magically beautiful. Just to think that this time last year I was preparing to go back to Cornell is laughable to me. I mean, I love the warm weather, and not having to go from class to class is nice. All of my classwork for the rest of the year was through emails with my professors. I'm still confused as to how that was able to happen, but we got away with it, and the guys did it along with their management. I do miss my regular life though, I miss drinking tea and studying for exams in my cozy apartment.

I wonder how that apartment is doing now...

My mind is constantly racing with thoughts about myself, about Nate, about the band, and about the mafia. Not to forget, Tahlia and everything else that has happened. I lost my best and closest friend. Quite literally my only friend at a time, and it all just feels very off to me.

Everything always feels off to me though.

I think about my mother from time to time. My sister on occasion, and my grandfather a lot. Out of the three, my poor grandfather may have been the only one to think about me. If even...

I think of my dad, and what he would think of this whole situation. If he were still alive that is, there would be no way I would be here right now, which goes to show you how little to no care my mother has for me. I've tried to love her, to get to know her, to get that feeling of love from her, but a daughter shouldn't have to beg her mother to love her. That's something that should come in unconditional amounts, no matter the circumstances.

My mother is a narcissistic, chilling, and toxic woman, and that's not even exaggerating.

She stands taller than me which I envy, alongside my sister. Both stand at about 5'9 while I'm stuck at a solid 5'7 which isn't exactly tiny, but isn't exactly tall. My mother is the epitome of a stereotypical heinous spoiled woman. It's true that all she cares about is herself, and it's true that she doesn't have a single care in the world for her nineteen-year-old daughter who is now in an entirely different country.

I haven't spoken to her in months.

My mother didn't like as she put it "the fuss" that I made about Kyle raping me. According to her, I was being dramatic and she refuses to believe it happened like that. In her eyes, Kyle is some sort of angel. She's in clubs and hosts different kinds of parties and events with his mother so of course one of her shallow friend's sons couldn't have possibly raped me, right?

My sister is older, and surprisingly enough we don't get along great either. She's 25 years old, so she's like 6 years older than me. She's up my mother's ass and always wants to be the perfect daughter. She's far from perfect though, but in my mother's eyes, she's entirely perfect.

She went to Yale and got in through family connections. Partied her way through college, and never did anything with me or for me. I tried to build a relationship with her, but she didn't want one. All she cared about was having our mom like her more than she liked me. She never gave me any advice, I had to learn it all on my own. I would be lying if I said we both didn't get things handed to us, but I actually worked hard. She didn't. And that's the difference between her and me.

Sometimes I question whether or not I was adopted or not, but then I think of my father, and oh god how I miss him. His hair which had been starting to gray, his lopsided smile, and the way he spoke French. How he pronounced his words so properly, and actually cared for me even though he was never really around.