The Art Of Loving A Bad Boy

Chapter 1

        When we start off in this world we are brand spanking new, our parents, family, friends, lovers, and the good and the bad will shape us into the adults we become. Me, on the other hand, I was surrounded more by my mother, my best friend, and the piano nothing less and nothing more, just us.

But today, rather than standing in a room with people surrounding me with sympathy and consoling me on my lost wasn't what I wanted but my father wanted me here, and morbidly I didn't take interest in the funeral arrangement or entertaining guest. Instead, I have set myself in the only room that has found me solace which has been left in the dark since the hospitalization, collecting dust with music notes laying along the floor reminding me of the temper my father carried from hearing about my mother's passing.

I relieve myself by sitting at the bench, tracing my finger along the music rack removing the dust that has been collecting over the past four weeks. I was being careful not to touch the fall that covers the keys I haven't come close to touching the keys or the fall ever since Mother was hospitalized. Tears started to collect in my eyes, as I've been attempting to not shred anymore today so I begin to think about different colors in my head. I read up that thinking about colors a repeating them can stop the tears, but sadly they haven't helped.

Then slowly the door begins to open, letting in visible light, I was no longer placed in the shadows.

"Rayna, everyone is leaving now," Anna speaks softly, holding herself at the door not stepping another foot into the room.

Anna was my best friend and everything I wanted to be, her perspective in life was something my Mother would call reckless but she too I was so elegant and confident in herself something I could never retain. Her voice was rugged and soft and the way she killed the hippie vibe made me admire her but today she wasn't in her regular get up, she was in a lacy black dress hugging her in every which way.

"You okay?" She asks, before widening the door allowing the light to seep into the room more.

I shuffle my body removing myself from the bench, wiping the tears away with my finger then adjusting my dress, "Yeah, I'm good." I mumble, proceeding to close the door glaring back at the piano.

"Okay?" Anna utters before placing her hand on my back, her eyes brows knitted together. Her phone begins to ring as she apologizes for the interruption, removing herself from the hallway out the door to the fresh Florida air that was left open for the wake.

I felt a warm stern hand rest upon my shoulder, knowing the scent of rich oak cologne telling me it was my Father afraid to turn and look into his eyes I continue to stare at Anna talking on the phone. Distracting me from how small the doorway entrance was now, with my father six-foot structure.

"You missed the wake, people were wondering where you were Rayna." My father's stern voice hitting me like bricks, he wasn't mad he was disappointed. Disappointed that I didn't talk to a single family member and the fact that I locked myself in any room possible, to escape this distress of the wake.

I exhale slouching my shoulders forward; knowing what was going to come next. "I know, but Dad I just couldn't face seeing her. Seeing her just lay there, motionless Dad I just couldn't." I draw my arms around myself, knowing that he wouldn't push me any further into answering him.

He grips my shoulder tightly, attempting to console me but soon his presence is gone. That's how it was between my Father and I we didn't talk but we are just comfortable with being beside each other, and Mother was totally opposite she was comforting and could talk for ages on end. When I was little I always thought that we lived the life of Mama Mia, and Mother didn't know who my father was and Father was just one-third of the equation.