Paparazzi//Grayson Hawthorne

Chapter Eight

I wake up early; I'm used to waking up early on Thursdays. I usually have soccer and then cheerleading practice before school, so it's routine.

I guess I won't be having those anymore.

It's okay, I loved them, sure, but sometimes you fall out of love with things you do. I started the majority of things I did when I was young.

Whether it was the guitar or piano or any of the many sports I did, I was always doing something, anything, to try to get people to notice me.

Not give me attention. That is different. But to notice me. Whether it was my mom, my dickhead of a dad, or my sisters, I was always trying to be noticed by them.

I'm not saying that my mom was a bad mom or anything. But she noticed Avery a lot more growing up. She always seemed to prefer Avery over me.

But I was okay with it. She and Avery had this special connection, one I don't think I would've ever been able to have with either of them.

She never really showed up to my games, whether they were just after-school games or tournaments or even just practices.

She showed up to my dance recitals a couple of times, though my dad was the one that paid for my dance lessons while he paid  for something for Avery as well. I have been doing dance since I was walking. It was just something I had always done.

But it never worked. I never got noticed by them. There were a couple of times when Avery would show up to my games. However, she wasn't really interested in sports, so always wanted to leave.

Libby showed up a couple of times as well, the same as whenever I was in a concert for school; she would try to show up once she moved out of her mom's house at 18.

I quickly get out of bed, getting ready for what I can already tell is going to be a shitty day.I see Libby talking to Alisa about going home to grab our things, and my attention snaps to the conversation.

"I want to come with you," I quickly say, interrupting what was going to be said. Both of them gave me a look as though to say I was being ridiculous.

"You can't go back," Alisa spoke first, "Why not? No one knows about Avery and me, so there are no threats," I speak quickly.

I may not be actively paying attention or emotionally present when they talk about that stuff, but I'm still there and taking in the information.

"You can't go. You'd need security," Alisa speaks again, giving me another look.

"Then get me security. I want to go back and get my things." I fire back at her. I want to go home. I want to get my things.

It takes about half an hour of convincing for Alisa to agree for me to go with Libby back to New Castle; she gets John to assign someone to watch over me.

We're on a private jet *mine, and Avery's private jet*. I cannot believe this, yesterday I had never flown before, and yet here I am now, flying in a private jet that I *own*.

We arrive at the apartment. Drake is there. I've never liked Drake before. When Avery and I first moved in with Libby after our mom died, he was incredibly rude.

One time, when Avery was at school and Libby was at work, I had gone home, I couldn't be at school, so I left and went back to the apartment.

But when I got there, Drake was watching tv, driving our electricity bill up the wall.

He yelled at me, he threatened me, he hit me, all because I had come home from school. I never told Libby or Avery what had happened. I wore long-sleeves and hoodies. I didn't fly in cheer for about a week and a half, just until the bruises had worn away a bit then I just acted confused.

He's a horrible man, but I couldn't tell anyone what had happened because it was my fault. I had not been at school. Luckily he never hurt my sisters. I was okay with him taking his anger out on me as long as he didn't hurt my sisters.

He was mad. He yelled and screamed. He asked where Libby had been. He blamed me. He yelled at her that she should have never taken Avery or me in. That she should have left us for the streets.Libby managed to calm him down a bit, she told him the gist of what had happened before she started packing suitcases to bring with her.

She packed her and Avery's rooms while I packed mine.

I grabbed my guitar, both my electric and my acoustic. I grabbed my shoes, my normal ones along with my shoes for each sport. I grab my notebooks, my polaroids, my pompoms, and my figurines. I grab everything as quickly as I can, making sure to be gentle with them, especially my awards.

I quickly made it back into the living area to see Libby grabbing the last of her things, Drake still on her trail, talking about the plans he had for when we inherited all of the money.

"Drake. It's not your money. It's not my money. It is Avery and Ashlyn's money. You don't get any of it" Libby sighed, she never talked back to him, she never stood up for herself. She always let him walk all over her.

Drake was mad. He was beyond mad because he wasn't getting something he wanted. I knew what was coming, but I wasn't fast enough.

I wasn't fast enough. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't protect Libby. He hit her.

I managed to get between them after the first punch. She got hit once, but that was one too many times. I let her get hit.

He hit me in the nose before he pushed me into the wall, smacking my head as I fell backward.My security, whose name I had learned was Josh, heard the commotion; he quickly entered the apartment, grabbing hold of Drake before he could do any more damage.