Drive » Haylor AU

1 - Sit Still, Look Pretty

"I don't wanna sit still, look pretty" » Daya

~Taylor~

People scurried in the hot California sun outside the air conditioned limo. The stores were packed with people trying to get the best summer sales. There was a little boy throwing a tantrum after his mother didn't want to get him chocolate ice cream, and a woman arguing with her boyfriend on the phone after he had cancelled the date when she had already bought the dress. There were happy teenagers celebrating summer after a long year of school, and then there were the elderly, the only thing changing for them being the heat. There were a lot of couples strolling around under the palm trees window shopping or only sightseeing.

I wondered what that would feel like. Would it be like in all the sappy movies? Or the books? I guessed I would find out if I ever got the chance.

I sat behind a darkened window seeing everybody, but nobody seeing me. Normally I felt like it was the other way around. The sight out the window was very different from what I knew back home, the only thing remaining being my hopeless romantic fantasies and the yearning for the love that I saw being exchanged. I hadn't been here often, spending most of my time in New York City but my parents had brought me to LA, saying that I needed some change. I sighed. I would much rather be at home right now watching Netflix and cuddling with Meredith and Olivia, only getting up to go to the bathroom or grab more Pringles.

My mother would disapprove of course, telling me that I should stop slouching around eating calories and actually go out to parties, or maybe even just a walk in the park. I prefer walks over parties. You see, I come from a very elite family where living the high-profile life is not only expected, but necessary. I was supposed to go to brunches and fairs, meeting cute guys and maybe finding one my parents approved of.

At first, I liked that idea - maybe I could find the love I was looking for. But after going to numerous events and having dates with boys my mother had set me up with, I realized that these were not the guys in my dreams. They were so proper and gentlemanly, boring almost . I mean, yes, I wanted a gentleman, but I also wanted someone carefree and relaxed. I wanted someone that would light a spark, that would make me feel different: happy, loved, pretty, strong, carefree, fearless. Not that that stopped my mother.

"... hot and sunny, but don't forget there is a hurricane warning for tomorrow afterno-"

"Oh turn that noisy radio off, will you?" My mother snapped at the driver, who quickly obeyed, setting the cabin in an awkward silence.

I got out my iPhone to avoid talking to my mother, texting Selena that I had arrived in LA. She responded instantly asking me all sorts of unimportant questions, like if the plane had had beige or black seats. She was my only real friend actually, her outlook on our life being similar to mine. Our fathers were business partners, so we were put together at an early age and clicked instantly. She was in Miami right now visiting her aunt and cousin, but would be coming to LA in three days. She had sent me pictures of her sunbathing and sightseeing. I smiled. It looked like she was enjoying herself.

I looked up as the limo stopped in front of the Beverley Hills Hotel and our doors were opened by footmen that reminded me of the conductor in Polar Express.

We walked along the soft red carpet to the entrance, a couple flashes blinding my eyes.

"Oh, Mr. Swift!" A rather high pitched voice squeaked. I looked up to see a short, plump man with a waxed black mustache come up to us and firmly shake my fathers hand, clearly quite flattered.

"And Mrs. Swift too, what a pleasure he rambled on, hastily scurrying on to my mother to bow and kiss her hand. 'Suck up' I thought.

"And the juniors! How delightful!" I cringed. This guy was too excited. He swiftly wobbled over to me and my younger brother Austin, ferociously shaking Aust's hand and then coming to me. I internally cringed when he engulfed my hand with his sweaty little pudgy one and then placed a loud smooch on the back of my hand. I gave him a fake smile, that he seemed to buy as he beamed up at me.