The Stripper- A Camren Fanfiction

Chapter 7

"The rain is really heavy today. Almost too heavy. It doesn't rain that often so I guess it was nice. I really admire the thunder and lightning, though. The way it electrifies the sky and brings it to life, more than any lantern could ever dream of doing.

The weather left me to do a lot of pondering over the last couple of days. I keep replaying what happened with Lauren over and over again in my head, it was as if a record player was stuck on loop. I haven't spoken to her since we kissed a couple of nights ago. I keep waiting by my phone however, anticipating a text or call that won't come. I hope it does. I really need to hear Lauren's voice. After the kiss she unexpectedly hurried out of my apartment. I don't know how much longer I can take waiting around. What about if she never calls again? Have I really messed things up by kissing her?

That's it...if Lauren won't come to me, I'll go to her."

After writing in my notebook I slammed it shut and grabbed my keys. If I could I would have ran out of my apartment that instant but I had to wait for a cab since the rain was awfully heavy, plus I still haven't learnt the way to Lauren's.

The cab pulled up after a short wait and I gave the driver the address, but still kept alert in case I was leading him the wrong way.

I couldn't help but tap my foot because I was so impatient, the suspense was killing me. I had no plan but to just knock on her door...and then what? I was becoming more and more anxious with every sign we passed.

After a while of me impatiently tapping my foot or twiddling my thumbs, the cab driver pulled up in front of the huge mansion I admire so much. I gulped slowly but paid the man my fare.

"Keep the change, sir." I spoke sweetly whilst getting out of the vehicle.

"Thank you dear." He replied with a head bob and drove away cheerfully.

I was now stood in the pouring rain contemplating what may happen when I knock on the door. However I stopped contemplating when I realised I was growing increasingly more damp with each passing minute.

I started to approach the marble stairs which led to the front door. Fear ran throughout my body and I was extremely confused as to why. Lauren was my friend, why was I so terrified of the events which may occur? I mean it was my idea after all to come here.

Before I knew it I was raising my hand to beat the knocker against the hard wood. I swallowed my pride and fear and waiting for someone to open the door.

Some time past and nobody answered the door. I was starting to believe that no one was in which was a major disappointment since I had come all this way but at the same time a strange relief. I turned my back towards the door and made my way down the marble stairs.

Suddenly, a high-pitched creek echoed through my ears and I turned around to see what had happened. I noticed that the door which I had just knocked had become slightly ajar now.

I had so many doubts about my next move but I hid them deep down and approached the door once again. I pushed it open and heard another creek but slightly made me jump.

The place looked wrecked. It seriously looked like Lauren had been burgled or something similar except nothing was missing. Everything was frantically scattered across the floor.

"Lauren?" I called out but to add to my discomfort no one answered. "Lauren?" I called again louder but again no one answered.

I was becoming increasingly worried but I continued to make my way through the house since I was still inquisitive to what else had happened.

The kitchen looked just as bad as the hallways.

What had happened here? Did someone break into here? Maybe it was a crazy fan who thought LeBron still lived here. All these possible answers were driving me crazy and made my head spin.

I carefully ushered my way into the living room and the first thing I noticed was that the Litchenstein artwork that I was so fascinated with wasn't touched. Everything around it was completely trashed but not that painting. I don't know what stood out about this painting to me. It was simple and one of his most famous pieces. I remember studying this piece 'Drowning Girl' before, but I can't remember where. I edged myself closer to the painting to study it in better detail. Then I noticed it had Litchenstein's very own signature written on it. Was this his original piece? Not a copy like I had thought it to be. I traced my finger over the signature but the glass prevented me from touching the actual painting itself.

All of a sudden I felt an impeccably strong force knock me onto my back and overcome me with utter darkness.