heads or tails // m.t + c.p [ discont. ]

Ch 0.1 • Charles

I was moving somewhere new; Los Angeles. I had my brothers on either side of me and my bags in my hand, my new house was rented and ready, I had management on speed dial should I need anything... I was all set. We wandered through the airport, having just landed from our hometown: Nantucket Island, Massachusetts. As I walked about the airport, I noticed all of the people waiting for other people. I don't think we have anyone waiting for us, just a taxi cab'll do. But as I was walking around, trying to find the exit to the airport I saw a man with a placard reading: "Meghan Trainor". That's me. Hmm. The guy was very good looking, from the looks of it he had decent muscles, he wore a very formal drivers outfit, meaning he was a professional, but despite his very formal attire he was slouched over slightly, sighing as he waited for his client which was apparently me.

"Uh, hi," I smiled lightly as I walked over to him.

"Are you Meghan Trainor?" he asked me, looking bored with little expression on his face. Under his hat his hair was disheveled and messy, he had little facial hair- a wannabe stubble -and emotionless deep hazel eyes that matched his hair color. Also, a scar in his eyebrow.

"Yeah," I nodded, "I think."

"You think? You either know your name or you don't," he huffed. I rolled my eyes. This is one arrogant boy.

"Yes. My name is Meghan Trainor. Are you the driver?" I questioned.

"No, I'm the postman," he quipped.

"Well in that case I should probably go and find my driver," I mocked his dry sarcasm.

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Whatever," I mumbled, "May we go?" He nodded his head and took the bags from my hands, walking away without another word. Ryan sent a questioning glance in my direction and I shrugged my shoulders, not having any idea. We all sighed in unison following the strange, dryly sarcastic hazel-eyed boy to the exit and to a black SUV, where our bags just fit into the trunk. Wordlessly, he held open the door for Ryan, Justin and I, before climbing into the drivers compartment, once again, wordlessly.

"He's so weird," Justin whispered to me and I nodded in agreement.

"Honestly, talk about rude! How has he not been sacked yet?" Ryan chuckled quietly. I shrugged.

"Oh well, it's one car ride; what harm will it do to just put up with him?" I sighed. My brothers nodded, agreeing.

"I guess," they muttered. We then sat in the back, looking out of the tinted windows at LA. Los Angeles. I was in Los Angeles, with my brothers, in the backseat of an SUV, with a driver, to drive me to my house. Crazy. The city whizzed by in a blur of excitement and color. This building and that, all new and unknown to us. We pulled up at a sandy colored house, the outside had neat, pristine shrubs and plants, the windows were all blocked by curtains so we couldn't see the furnishings. We filed out of the car and our driver pulled out our bags.

"Right. This is your house, if you need to be driven anywhere else. Don't hesitate to call," he said that last part but glared at me as if to say, "Don't."

"Wait," I knitted my eyebrows together, "You're my actual driver?"

"Yep," he huffed, "Unless you request a transfer; which is usually only carried out in extreme circumstances. So yes, we're stuck together." He explains, with a mocking fake smile on his lips.

"Well then, what's your name?"

"What?" he questioned, looking shocked.

"You know my name, why can't I know yours?" He kept up his defensive stance. "Besides, if we're going to be spending so much more time together it's only fair."

"Who said we were going to be spending so much time with each other?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Me. I am the client remember, must do as told," I reminded, "So, name."

"Charles Otto Puth Junior," he mumbled, "But my friends call me Charlie."

"Okay Charlie-"

"I said my friends. You're not a friend Ms Trainor. You're a client, that's all." He tells me, sighing at the end and I huffed. This guy was impossible. That transfer doesn't sound so bad right about now...

"Whatever, Charles, thanks. I'm going inside my house now, so you can leave." In the time me and him had been talking, Ryan and Justin and carried all but two bags inside the house. I reached down to pick them up, as did he. Our hands touched at the handle and we snapped them back quickly. "What the hell!" I cursed.

"Hey! It's my job! You can't go 'what the hell' -ing me!"

"I can do what I like, Charles-"

"Would you two stop arguing like kindergartners?!" Ryan sighed, emerging from the doorway frowning.

"Puth, you work for us- her -so quit it with the fucking attitude. Meghan, you're acting childishly, you can't do that anymore, because like management said, you gotta suck it up and get on with it!" We both huffed, knowing he was right. "Say sorry and shake hands," he ordered. We glared at him.

"Sorry," we grumble in unison, shaking lightly before pulling our hands back defensively.

"Right, now I'll take the bags in," he shook his head. Ryan picked up the bags, one in either hand, and left. Me and Charlie narrowed our eyes at each other and had a staring contest, both of us incredibly angry with each other.

"That was your fault," I commented, placing the blame on him before spinning on my heel and storming inside.

A/N: Heads or Tails. Lovin' it! What do you guys think? If you haven't already, read the description for this. Comment what you thought?

Stay strong lovelies,

-Faye xx

(P.S: You may not get another chapter for a little while because I published this earlier than I was supposed to... oops.)