Affair at Crackerbox Palace 🖤 A Dhani Harrison Fanfiction

chapter 2: guitars and grandeur

(Dahni's POV)

"Crackerbox palace... here it is," I murmured to myself as I drove up to a menacing iron-wrought gate guarding a Victorian-era mansion that loomed from atop a hill. It appeared to be nitpickingly landscaped. Jeez, this place is fucking huge!

Countless windows, turrets, and pillars stared me down from up above, but I wasn't quite as taken aback by the grandeur as others might've been. I'd seen mansions of this magnitude before because of my dad's rockstar status — I had lived in a sizeable estate and plenty of my dad's mates had huge plots as well. Perhaps I'll fit in with whoever owns this monster. I drove through the open gate up the long and winding driveway.

When I arrived at the top of the hill, I was greeted by a servant of sorts. He was an older man, but I knew he couldn't have been the owner of the house because he was in formal work attire. Like, a butler's work attire. I immediately became very conscious of my appearance, my messy hair and clothes perhaps inappropriate for the occasion. "What er you here for, lad?" He asked in a raspy, thickly-accented voice.

"Oh, em, I'm just here because I saw a flyer looking for a butler. Is this the right address?" I explained, scratching the back of my head nervously.

He laughed, and it sounded like he was struggling to get the air from his lungs. "'Course this is the right address."

"I should just leave the car here?" I didn't want to be rude.

"Yeah, yeah, just leave 'er there. C'mon lad, I'm in charge of the service here, so I'll be showin' you around, see if yer fit for the job or not."

The fellow probably smoked a pack a day. I cringed, as I avoided cigarettes like the plague. Growing up, Dad had a terrible ciggy addiction he wouldn't admit to. I refused to go down that route. "Great, thank you," I said.

With that, the gray-haired man started leading me into the house. "After you," he said as he opened the front door for me. "Now, the family's out right now, but I can tell you they're not too stuffy of a bunch. They'll be back in an hour or so."

I stepped inside. September's late summer sun shone in through the massive windows of the foyer, the white marble interior twinkling as the light bounced upon it. It was beautiful, I couldn't deny it. There were loads of tropical potted plants in a variety of lively green colors littered around the room for contrast. It was the kind of place I'd always hoped to live in as an adult someday. Extravagant, yet still in touch with nature.

"I welcome you to Crackerbox Palace." He winked, his crepe-paper skin crinkling. "We've been expecting you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned, intrigued by his quirkiness.

"Oh, you'll find out soon." Mysterious. "So as a butler 'ere in the Crackerbox, yer gonna have a lot to learn. For one, you gotta open car doors, house doors, and room doors for the family, as you've already seen me doin' fer you. Next, you gotta bow in the presence of the family. Just a subtle one, nothin' too dramatic. And er, keep yerself lookin' tidy. You got a lot of hair there, m'boy. Yer gonna be wearing a suit, not those baggy hipster clothes. Then, you..."

I was already bored. He took me into room, after room, after room. There must've been a hundred of them. No level of splendor was going to take away from how repetitive this tour was. Also, the guy still hadn't given me an explanation for why it was called "Crackerbox Palace." I daydreamed as the head of staff showed me around the mansion and gave me all sorts of mindless instructions. I remembered the cute girl I'd bought from at the corner shop just the past evening. Come to think of it, I didn't even catch her name... fuck!

"...And if they ask for anything, water, keys, info, whatever, you pass th' word on to Martha. You got all that?"

I returned to reality. "Yes sir!"