High Fidelity

prologue

NOTE: there are seriously gruesome activities and allusions to SA. As well as DV. I am deeply so sorry to any victims and survivors, I am with you. This story is not meant to trauma dump nor use triggers for shock value. It's simply a work of fiction with some details and plot points from my real life as this is one of my only ways to cope. You do not have to read this by any means. You have been warned, and I am sorry.
There is a note at the end that is very important explaining a lot. Just know everything in this story is intentional for reasons explained later & the ending is somewhat of a political statement/spoof. An "f u" basically to the (not so great— controversial) movies/tv show(s) this book was heavily inspired by. Please note I do not condone any type of violence or toxicity. Also, I do not share the same beliefs or opinions as (many of) the characters. Thank you.

***

Sydney Bay Janes Eight Years Ago . . .

"--Mommm!" I dragged, yelling from the kitchen.

"Honey, it's yelling again," my father joked about my noise.

I laughed at him and slammed my Android phone face down on the countertop.

"It's only, like, the biggest game of the season," I ranted as I stood in the hallway mirror, "if we don't get there now, I'll just die!"

Dramatically, I put my hand to my forehead and dropped to the floor as if I fainted.

My brown hair fell across my face and even got in my brown, round-shaped eyes.

When I blinked one eye open to see if my suburban parents were paying any attention to me, I saw my mother's spoon-shaped body standing over me.

I smiled cheeky and raised my arms for her to hoist me up.

She finished putting in her right pearl earring and asked my father, Dean, if she looked alright.

Bored, I plopped down on the couch and watched them engage in a compliment battle.

"Nora, you take my breath away," Dad smiled at his wife.

I pretended to gag and they blew raspberries at me.

"Can we go now?!" I emphasized, seeing the time on the clock on the wall.

Dad, putting his black cap on, asked me, "Why can't you be more like your brother?"

"Maybe because I'm an only child, Dean-o?"

He laughed and threw his arm around my neck. "Come on, Janes gang, we have a ball game to get to!"

"Finally," I drawled, grabbing my phone before darting out the front door.

My mom's sister, Delaney, was dating the state university's head men's basketball coach so she got us floor seats! We had been a few times but not in a while, and I was more excited this time because the team -- the Seahawks-- had been on a 6-0 winning streak. That, and it was my birthday. I didn't make it a big deal or remind my parents because I believed they plan something special, but I didn't know what.

Mom locked the door and asked Dad if he wanted her to drive for a change. When he tossed her the keys, I caught them. They both looked at me in shock.

With my hand on the driver's side door of the Jeep Grand Cherokee, I looked back at them and began to whine.

"Oh come on," I blabbed, "I'm seventeen, I have my permit - let me drive. Pleaseeeee?"

It was Dad who gave Mom that "I'll allow it" look and she took her seat in the back of the truck. I shrieked with excited, glad it was my father who'd be up front as he was much more patient with my driving than Mom. The college wasn't too far, though, I figured what's the worst that could happen, hitting a mailbox or a couple recycling bins again? Pfft.