Love With Abandon

Wasted

I awoke one morning, finding myself in a real bed, with a real ceiling atop my head. So much had changed for me in the past week, and for the first time, I liked my life.

Sure, it was pure chaos, living in a home of around twelve people, and having a close relationship with the other twelve, but it had more of a homey feel than the cold, tiny home I in my car. At first, it was awkward, but we grew closer together. We didn't talk much about the show that was basically consuming our lives, but more jokes and anecdotes we had heard of in our lives.

Even the hard-faced girls I thought were originally pawns of success and fame turned our to be quite nice. They, like me, had all gone through a lot, whether a death of a loved one, bullying, or  depression. That was what set us apart, make up vulnerable, what made us become the people we had come to be. I think I realized that now, although I still grieved my past. Becoming a team, a part of something greather than myself, a part of something where I could be like others... it may seem normal to most, but for me, it was a new feeling entirely. I had never felt like I'd ever belonged, but here, I did.

***

A muffled laughter came from somewhere left of me. More followed. I awoke, frowning in the pitch blackness of my room. Looking in the direction of the laughter, I saw distinctly the short, well formed haircuts of the newly formed band, currently called Variations, consisting of a tall cocky, blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy, and two girls with similar features. Feeling a cool sensation in my hand, I saw shaving cream inside it. Oh those rascals!

Determined to get them back, I feigned sleeping. When they tickled my nose with a feather, I lifted my hand, and slapped my hand into the Brad, the guy, and rubbed the cream into his hair.

"Shit!!! Why did you do that?" he exclaimed furiously.

"Hey, your fault, you've gotta stop pranking people," I responded, in my normal boring self.

The girls were rolled over in fits of laughter. Variations were rascals; they would prank eachother, prank others, as long as they got a laugh, they were happy. They were the sunlight of this house, the ones that made the house lively, happy, and enjoyable. Variations brought us all together.

They were the exact opposite of me.

"All right, guys, I want to sleep. Good night! And don't prank me again," I commanded.

I could almost feel the mischief in their sneaky little minds. Collpasing back into the matress, I once again fell into a restful sleep.

***

Waking to the sound of friendly chatter, screams, and laughter, I seated myself up in my bed. The house could really get loud, with twelve people living in it, especially with the wierd people here, with all the pranking, chatterboxes, ticklers, and clowns here. As the rest of the competitors started being more friendly, they pulled me along, but still a ways behind.

"Hey, Angie!" Gary Whileman greeted.

"Hey... is that hash brown I smell?" I exclaimed. I loved hash browns.

He chuckled. "Yeah, and they're going fast. Better go before they're gone."

Everyone knew my addiction; that was why it always was gone before I went downstairs. The house loved messing with eachother. I honestly didn't get it.

Thankfully, when I got there, there was still quite a bit left behind. Already, I was in a good mood.

Munching on hash browns and sipping orange juice, I realized that today was Saturday; it was time for mentoring to start with Taylor.

I was honestly terrified. More than anyone in the world, she knew me best. She knew of my problems, she knew my heart had been battered, she knew I was depressed. I wanted to know what song she had chosen. This week was Diva Week, and I was scared to death. If there was one thing I wasn't, it was a diva.

***

"I know you have had troubles with love in your past, based on your song. But I feel as if you need to get over that. So for Diva Week, I chose the song "Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson."

I knew what she said was right. I didn't come here just for success or escape. I came here for me, the person I had lost a long time ago. This was just the first step in finding her.

"How do you feel about it?" Taylor asked, snuggled in her white corduroy couch.

"Yeah... I like that."

"Okay, here is the music. Would you like to sing it to me?"

I nodded, studying the music. The camera was rolling on me, which was creepy.

I sang the song to her.

***

After the mentoring session with Taylor, I had to make like an intro to myself. I basically did random things in front of the camera while they took shots and put it together, saying my name in a deep, wierd voice over it. I didn't get it.

By the time that was over, I headed back to house for some lunch, consisting of enchiladas, and chips with guacamole. All food still made me feel nauseus, except for hast browns. That was a tradition of mine; hash browns everyday. It was that way at Accord, at least.

When lunch was over, I went back to sleep in to my bedroom with the scattered clothes, plain walls and comfortable bed.

***

"Hey, wake up, dinner's ready," a skinny blonde girl said. She was like the stereotypical cheerleader, and her name was Marley Gunnings. She was actually a really good singer, but she was very shallow.

"Yeah. Thanks Marley," I replied, slowly getting out of bed.

Dinner consisted of a chicken casserole. As usual, it was disgusting.

Beneath all the chattering of the people of the house, I saw something I had hoped I would never hear in my life.

"A major accident, on Highway 87. Apparetenly a drunk man crashed into a young woman, knocking  her car off a cliff. She has suffered a traumatic head injury, and is now gone," the news reporter said.

But I wasn't paying attention. In the background, I saw there was lock of brown hair, familiar facial features, familiar clothes, and a familiar set of eyes, that, although were now devoid of their usual sparkle, were ones I could recognize anywhere in the world.

My sister, Sarah Hastings, was dead.

I waited for it to sink in.

My sister was dead.

I suddenly felt an urge to run. Run away from the house, away from the city, and to a place where I could escape. Starting the engine to the car, I drove like a madman.

About ten minutes later, I found myself parked outside a bar.

Taking out my fake ID, I showed it to the doorman. As he let me in, the smell of the bar hit me, the smutty smell of sex, the strong scent of alchohal and vomit. 

Stepping up to a barman, I ordered. "Strongest one you've got."

"That will be fifteen dollars, and a rocking hard orgasm."

I crinkled my nose in disgust, and handed him the money. I hated flirty people. And I really wasn't in the mood right now. Now, I just wanted to get wasted and forget about Sarah.

Throughout the rest of the night, I drank countless numbers of shots, and everything became fuzzy. I remember forgetting, I remember feeling blissful for one night, I remember being happy.

I also remember getting in bed with someone, and an excruciating pain in between my legs.

***

A/N: DUN DUN DUN... okay, maybe it wasn't that dramatic...

What did you guys think? I know only... like 5 people are reading, but I love feedback... it gives me ideas...

I promise; 1D will be in the story in the next two chapters.

Still looking for a cast... any  suggestions?

Remember... Fan...Comment...Vote!!!

BTW: Please inform me of any mistakes; I wrote this in about 25 minutes.

This chapter is dedicated to LuckyMusic for writin one of my favorite stories on PinkPad. She's awesome!!!