Not From Around Here- A Hunter Hayes fanfic

Chapter 2- Tires and Fast Food

****Hey guys! I don't really have much to say here so.....here is chapter 2! Enjoy!***

Melody's POV

      "But, Daddy! I don't want to move to Nashville, that's where all the hillbilly cowboys live! They probably don't even have Prada or Gucci stores there!" I exclaim angrily at my father. He sighs, getting frustrated. "Melody, your mother and I have told you. Your attitude has got to change, you are acting like a spoiled brat and that needs to change. You can't get everything you want, and you need to understand that the world does not revolve around you. We're sending you to Nashville for the summer so you can get away from Beverly Hills for a while, see new places. And hopefully you'll come back with a better attitude." he explains again, probably for the 100th time.

       I cross my arms over my chest, pouting. "I do not act like a spoiled brat! I spend my money wisely, I'm not a child!" I say, throwing my arms down. "Honey, last week you spent $600 on a pair of shoes. That's not a very wise decision. And we know you're not a child, but it would be nice if you would act like an adult sometimes. You're 21, Mel. You're attitude needs to change. You're going to Nashville, and that's final." my Mother says, giving me a stern look.

      "Fine. You want me to go live with the cowboys? And not shop at designer stores? That is cruel. Absolutely cruel. I can't believe you have the nerve to send me down to...the place that shall not be named. I hope you're happy with your only daughter being stuck in 'Cowboy Land' all summer. I'll be thinking of you while I'm stuck mucking stalls of some gross barn, or whatever it is those people do down there." I say, defeated. "It's not as bad as you think, Melody." my Dad says, his tone softening.

       "Are you kidding? All they wear is torn up blue jeans and ugly plaid shirts, and don't even get me started on those stupid cowboy hats. I would rather die than be caught in a plaid shirt and cowboy boots. Oh, and one more thing- I'm having my Mercedes Benz taken down there. I will not be caught dead in some ratty, old pick up truck." I state, crossing my arms again.

      "Oh yes you will. We're keeping your car here, your father already made arrangements for you to have a car to drive around in while in Nashville." my mom says, looking at me. I cringe at the word 'Nashville'. "What is it?" I snap, unhappy that I can't take my precious Mercedes with me. "You will be driving around in a white Ford pick up truck. That will be your only car, so you better get used to it." my father says. My eyes go wide. "You..you mean I have to drive a truck? But-"

       "No 'buts'. We are not having this conversation anymore. End of conversation. Your flight leaves in two days, so I suggest you start packing." my mom says, pointing to the staircase that leads to my room. I huff, and stomp upstairs. My attitude is perfectly fine, I don't see why they feel the need to punish me by sending me to...well..you know.

I have a feeling this summer is going to be awful.

      Yanking my pink, Prada suitcases from out of my closet, I sigh at the thought of being stuck in ratty, gross Nashville for three months. Ugh.  Putting them on my bed, I begin going through my closet to find clothes to wear while on my little trip. "Hm, this could work for the airport, I guess." I say, eyeing my blue dress that I bought from Gucci a few weeks ago. It wasn't much, it only cost around $300, but it's good enough to wear on the plane. Tossing the dress into my suitcase, I rack my double door, walk in closet for enough clothes to last me over the summer.

        Two hours, five Prada suitcases, and thirty pairs of shoes later, I'm finally done packing. "That was easy." I say, looking over my work. As I go back through my room to make sure I have everything, my phone buzzes from my bedside table. Walking over to it, I pick up the phone. Skylar was texting me. Unlocking my precious iPhone, I read the message.