It's A Long Trip Alone (A The Wanted/Jay McGuiness fanfiction)

Chapter 1 ~ Gone

Chapter 1

The colors take their cue and fade from the scene. The grays, the whites, and the blacks hang up their mantles at the door. Inside they discover one hung and one young. They weep in color and they too take their cues to fade.

“Morning my love,” the girl greeted her son with. “Mommy Aspyra here is gonna figure out a way to get you food right? Of course.” Reasserting her attention to necessity, her pupils pursued the bag that she sealed with the title "Use for Now". She unclasped her backpack that contained the few items that connected her to her prior life.

Aspyra had left hastily but kept her wits about her, projecting and preparing for any immediate needs that she would need for the long journey. Rewiring all her sizable funds to a few different accounts, any monetary expenses were covered. Her white iPhone was held in a separate pocket located at the front of the bag for easy access. She knew that the phone wouldn't ring anytime soon; erstwhile to the departure after much hassle and toil, she managed to get her phone number changed. Within the interior of her boot, she carried a pocketknife and a tiny dagger was situated in the exterior pocket of the knapsack. The remainders of the container’s contents were some nonperishable foods, a few changes of clothes, flashlights, batteries, a compass, a whistle, baby formula, diapers, trash bags, a can opener, matches, a lighter, scissors, duct tape, a first aid kit, a mini toolbox, toiletry items, blankets, a sleeping bag and a mini umbrella.

Sat at an uncomfortable angle in the garden shed, the young mother shifted positions and began her new daily routine with her baby. Confiding in him and trusting his youth with her secrets and sanity, she unloaded her burdens, "Noah Noah. Hush little baby don't you cry mamas not gonna let us die. She'll find us a place to stay; we won't have to live at bay. And when her plans will awake, her smile she won't fake. But for now were in a shed, and if Logan rats we are dead. But he won't tell cuz he's my friend, he'd sacrifice unto the end. You are turning one real soon, and maybe life will change its tune. Mamas gonna try to get a job, and you will not ever sob. For with that money we'll be rich, life will go on without a hitch. We’ll be safe from all evil, and happiness will find us still."

The tears were brimming in her heart as she emotionally cried from pain. "What am I going to do? I have no prospects and my only experience was one year at Stanford as a journalism major. I am not ready for the world and I've never had a job. Why did that S.O.B. ...? No I'm going to think of something different." Peeling off her leather jacket and removing her sweat jacket, she picked up her knife to look at her reflection. A stark contrast from her normal appearance greeted her: the once fine and smooth brown hair was tousled and uneven, her face seemed ruthlessly pale, instead of peaches and cream, and her skin was devastated with colors of red, blue, and black. Only the violet resounding from her irises stamped her identity upon this broken person. Painstakingly the knife was hovering, recounting movements and memories. A flash of sea green, however removed the concentration from her own predicament to one encompassing purity.

Returning the knife to its responsible locale, the parent scavenged through the messenger bag for the appropriate tools.  This bag had a cachet entitled "Use for the Future". Carefully excavating the items, job prospects were all that clouded the brain waves. She pulled out the yellow legal pad that lay atop her mini netbook as she scavenged through her papers to find a pen. It wasn’t the most effective to lug around a bag occupied by papers, portfolios, legal pads, a computer, chargers, and writing utensils, whereas it could have been employed for transporting clothes and food. However, in accordance with purchasing food, she would have to acquire a job; therefore, the items were less frivolous than they would first appear. Once the job seeker obtained her desired accoutrements, Aspyra devised a list of credentials, aptitudes, and ineptitudes:

Positives

1.       Adept writer

2.       Computer savvy

3.       Proficient

4.       Responsible

5.       Analytical

6.       Creative

7.       Stanford Chronicle newspaper

8.       High school newspaper editor

9.       Diligent

10.   Pop culture literate

11.   Work well individually

12.   Team work effort

13.   Leadership abilities

Deficits

1.       Can’t spell for my life

2.       Work better alone than on a team

3.       Can be personable at times

4.       Not good with kids

5.       Have tattoos

6.       No real job experience

7.       Stage fright

8.       Very very shy

9.       Shit at any physical exertion

10.   Stubborn

11.   Can’t sing

12.   Can’t dance

13.     Can’t even walk like Rihanna

“So, what opportunities does that leave me?” she bleakly tried to comprehend. “Can’t be anything in the performing arts, so actress, singer, and dancer are out. Comedian? Please as if, I could speak in front of a crowd. Or contrive anything humorous.  Always wanted to be a psychologist, but who the hell would hire an inexperienced teenager who didn’t even have psychology as their major? Work at the mall? No way, any one could find me there. Waitress? It’s a possibility. I wouldn’t have to have any particular form of experience.”

She opened her laptop up and stared at its black screen for a few seconds. Its unending echo of imagery mocked her, taunting her. Her façade of a face was hopelessness embodied.  Once the background screen came up after unlocking the keys, and she couldn’t prevent the smile that escaped and etched itself upon her lips. It was a photo of her heroes devoid of capes but complete with crazy, loveable, sweet personalities.

Navigating to Google chrome she sifted through thousands and thousands of search results for help wanted ads, narrowing it down from anywhere in the state of California to L.A. She had to get as far away as possible from San Francisco without exceeding her traveling budget. L.A. seemed the most plausible since there was a lot of activity and less of a chance that her wildly conservative parents would ever imagine her inhabiting it.

After a couple hours, her resume became somewhat attractive, and she tucked it away in her folder. Or at least she hoped it was. Waiting with a ubiquitous fear looming over her head, Aspyra began playing with Noah, while she counted down the minutes to 10 o’clock. Just like Logan had agreed to, she would occupy the ancient garden shed for one night, when she would steal away and find transportation to Los Angeles. As the minutes stole away from her at a staggering pace, all the bags were packed. Finally, as the clock struck its target dead, she texted Logan one singular word.

“Gone”.

A/N: Comment, vote, fan. :) Also Happy Birthday Tom Parker!!!