The Checkered Writer

Chapter 1

Ashley peered over the rim of her coffee mug and watched the stranger enter the café. She did this a lot. Her awkwardness around people prevented her from speaking to many, so she made up all their personal details. Tall. Male. Mid 20's. Long light brown hair tied back into a ponytail, falling to his waist. Shorts and a button down, even though the winter night in London was a chilly 2˚. Once she had taken in all his physical features, she went to work on his story. The man before her was an unsuccessful surfboarder. He hadn't cut his hair since he was 12 and proud of it. Like Ashley, he wasn't from London. He was originally living in Miami. Where the sky was a vast blue dotted with puffs of white and sand was a four-letter word. His ex-girlfriend of a year and a half was still unemployed and had a habit of sleeping with his friends. He moved to the UK to start fresh. He had a job at the local grocer and has no qualifications whatsoever. His name was–

"Can I get you another cup of coffee?" The bubbly waitress standing before her interrupted her thoughts. 

She answered a simple, "Um. Yes please."

"OMG. I love your accent! Is it American?"

"No. It's uh... Australian."

"Adorable." As the waitress left, Ashley looked around for surfer-guy, wanting to finish his story. Her father always told her that she would never get anywhere in life if she didn't talk to people. That her preconceived stories would stop her from talking to anyone. "Just talk to someone new today Ash." He would say as she left every morning. It's not like she was a loner with no friends. She just had trouble communicating with people. She was jerked back to the present when the late news program started on one of the chunky, old TVs nearby. The newsreader droned on and on about the main headlines. Stating names, places and events that Ashley had no interest in.

Her mind started to wander past the news, and drifted to the world around her. Her grandparents were waiting eagerly for her return at their home in downtown London. She thought of the friends she had left behind. Bella, Maddy and Thomas. Those 3 had gotten her through high school. When Ashley first arrived at the school, halfway through grade 8, all friend groups were well established. Whispers and rumors were spread. Ashley was alone for the first week. This was until during a sport lesson, Ashley was parried up with Bella and Maddy for the first time.

Bella was the kind of person that had a knack for music. She could sing, and if you took the time, you would find that even the birds stop to listen. When she played piano, tears were shed. The violin and flute came as naturally to her as breathing did. As did any other instrument.

Maddy on the other hand, was a star athlete. She could sprint, jump, throw and swim. Breaking state and national records as she went. At the age of fourteen, Maddy was training six times a week and had a personal best of in the 100m sprint that would make Bolt smile.

Ashley, being below average at both music and sport was obviously feeling out of place. She fumbled to catch the ball when thrown at her. She threw the ball to Bella, only to be aiming for Maddy. To her surprise neither Bella nor Maddy laughed or made fun of her. Instead they watched her with matching looks of curiosity. Maddy asked her name and she mumbled a quick, "Ashley", and fell silent. They both smiled, and from then on, the three of them became friends.

Soon after she became friends with Thomas. He was her next-door neighbour and occasionally drove to school with Ashley and her father. Where Bella was music and Maddy was sport, Thomas was the brain. Physics, Math, Chemistry, Biology and Geography were his strong points. He would sit at the back of Ashley's grade 8 science class doing year 11 work. He, like Ashley, preferred the company of a good paperback rather than the likes of stressful social situations. Ashley was closer to Thomas than anyone. She and him were just so similar.

Ashley was good at one subject in particular during high school. That subject was English. Reading and writing were her escape. She did extra work in class and read extra books. She had managed to get a piece of her writing published by the time she was seventeen. By the end of high school, the four had become close friends. Leaving them was almost as hard as leaving her father.

Like Ashley, Peter Wilson had blonde hair and dark blue eyes. But his were small; Ashley's eyes were big. He was a lawyer and spent many late nights stuck in his office. Not that it had bothered Ashley much. She grew up independent, free of the chains of a normal childhood. 

Her mother, a writer, had left them was Ashley was thirteen. Peter got full custody, while her mother got the typewriter. Ashley remembered what Peter had said to her when she had left for London, "I have faith that you will own that country, one word at a time." Ashley's talent in writing had come from her mother. She had moved to London to clear her mind and take care of her grandparents. Her attention was drawn back to the newsreader as she announced sudden breaking news.

"Singer/songwriter in the 'homegrown' British boy band 'The Checkered Shirts', Mitchell Chase, stormed out of the group's rehearsal today. He claims that the rest of the band is plotting against him and trying to throw him out. Chase was spotted a mere 3 hours later getting thrown out of,  Blue Lights, a club located in London's north.  Is this the last straw of the role model so many teenagers looked up to? Betty Jacobs has more." The broadcast then flashed to a still of Mitchell Chase, as a reporter explained the situation with more detail. 

Ashley had heard of the Checkered Shirts before. Everyone had. They were a band of four boys, who had all grown up in England, singing their hearts out since the age of 15. Heroically thrown together in the 2011 BritsStar competition, to then go on and become the biggest band of the century. Ashley guessed that their music would be on every teenage girl's iPod. Countless posters of them had been printed in countless countries and were displayed countless times. Now, five years later, the band were celebrating the end of their third world tour, a twenty million dollar paycheck and had begun slowly working on a new album. 

Ashley used to like their music well enough. But she was becoming disappointed as the fame had finally made its way to their heads. Brad James, Mackenzie Turner, Justin Dorsey and Mitchell Chase were all now covered in tattoos, money and an attitude. The band's youngest member, Mitchell Chase, had just turned 20. The kid was a multimillionaire while he was still a teen. Peering closer at Mitchell's photo, Ashley studied his features. Curly brown hair, which still had an untidy look to it. Striking green eyes and slim face. Tattoos dotted his arms and what was visible of his chest. Even a photo of him radiated pride and arrogance. Ashley hated him for it.

The program then showed a statement from Justin Dorsey. He seemed the most down to earth of them all. He was blonde, light blue eyed and he was working the audience like a pro. He spoke about reassuring their 'adoring fans' that Mitch was fine and that they were still on track for releasing their new album in May. Ashley wasn't falling for it. He had an uneasy look in his eye as he spoke. The program returned to the main anchor saying, "If Chase doesn't get his act together soon, the whole band will suffer the consequences. Now onto Briana for the weather..." 

Before she knew it, the program had ended and the cafe was empting. She knew it was time to return home. Yawning, she started to pack up her half finished story. Her story was about a fantasy world. A world where Angels, Demons, Fairies, Vampires and Witches roamed the earth. Battles between the fallen angels and demons were common. But in midst of it all was a pair of lovers. The fairy princess and the heir to hell himself, the prince of demons. The young princess is kidnaped in by the angels, in spite of the prince. The story follows the prince as he fights, deals and tricks his way the princess' heart. Only to find her in the hands of another at the end of the first book. Ashley was becoming more and more frustrated with the story. It just didn't mean much to her anymore. She was in desperate need for a change.

Pulling on her jacket and closing her books, Ashley packed her bags and disappeared into the night.