Hollywood's Golden Runaway

(0 6)

A vicious knocking wakes me up the next morning, and with a groan I sit myself up, my hangover making my head feel heavy and like my brain is being pushed against the sides of my skull. Once my vision has focused I see the form of Houston leaning against my door frame, looking a little less worse for wear than I feel but he still holds his head in his hands with a pained expression on his face.

"Please, make it stop!" He whines. Just as he complains, sounding uncharacteristically childlike, a harsh buzz echoes throughout the empty house. He groans again, clutching his skull tighter. Suppressing my own pains I take my time in answering the bell, and the greeting I receive makes me long for the shrill sound of the buzzer.

"Finally she answered!" Brenna yells to who I assume is T and Sydney, "Come on, let us in! We need to pack for tomorrow. Plus, T says she left her underwear!" She sings the final part of her sentence inciting Sydney's familiar laughter while T jumps in to defend herself,

"No I did not! I left that pool house squeaky clean!" She refutes, pushing Brenna out of the way in a flurry of brown and blonde hair to get her word in. Despite the humour of the situation, I am desperate to silence them to cure my hangover. With a small yet pained laughter I allow them through the gate, but after unlocking the front door, I sprint up the stairs to find my older brother slumped against the door frame, happily sound asleep in his little corner of shade. It hurts to wake him up but the door opening downstairs pushes me to pull him into my ensuite until I can find a way to get him out.

"Hugh, please stay in here, be quiet." I tuck him into the walk-in shower, behind the frosted glass so that should any of the girls walk in, they will not spot him. He grunts in response but seems to be content in his new bedroom, curling into a foetus position to sleep off the liquor in his system. I splash my face with the running cold water, invigorating me enough to face the three vibrant personalities of my best friends. As I emerge from the bathroom, closing the door behind me, the girls burst through my bedroom door, catching me by surprise.

They nearly tumble onto one another while I stand by and watch, trying to control my laughter. Sydney picks herself up first and her eyes meet my messy appearance with surprise, trying to calculate in her mind the reason for such a vision of disgrace. T and Brenna come to flank her, both eyeing me suspiciously.

"So either a certain someone, whose name begins with 'L' was here last night and you didn't have time to change." Sniggers from the others. "Or, you're still hungover from the party." A second option inducing a similar level of embarrassment.

"Shut up, Sydney," I bite a little too harshly at my best friend, "I'm just stressed out, ok? I have like a hundred lines still to learn, and it's given me no sleep." I worry myself with how easy the previous challenge of lying has become for me. Five years ago I couldn't lie believably if my life depended on it. Now I am standing before three of my best friends spreading lies like a gospel truth.

Though taken aback by my harsh response to a light-hearted comment, making guilt churn in my stomach, they seem to be understanding of my supposed reason for my homeless-person chic. However, Sydney keeps her eyes on me, with a knowing glint to her slanted eyes, as though I was making excuses for her idea of mine and Liam's 'relationship'.

"So what's going on with you and Alex, T?" I quickly turn the conversation back round to Tatiana, intrigued as to where the two stand with the formidable presence of her father in her life. She lands with a humph on my mattress. While Brenna and Sydney share a smirk between them, having obviously been informed already of the drama between the young couple.

"Dad's pissed that I was involved in such a 'scandal'," she adds the air quotations and a roll of her eyes, "but I don't know. He seems cool with it, the only issue is that Alex has an issue with Dad not having an issue." She grumbles and I suddenly understand her issue, concurring with a small gasp.