Ambitious Lies (Teacher/Student)

Ambitious Lies

Lights

Cameras

Action.

To say my life is a circus would be an understatement, an absolute nightmare would be a more accurate description. My name is-

“Charity Tayor!”

“This way love, give us a smile!!”

The paparazzi swarmed at the entrance as I tried to push my way through. I’m not a criminal or a politician, I am a modal, my face is on everything from Make Up to computer software. Currently residing in London with my all too attentive family and many a burly bodyguard, I have no real friends, no privacy and NO love life. To top that all off I am eighteen years old!!

“Ms Taylor, This way please” Stanley, my lovely and always prompt driver.

“Thank you Stan, Your timing is impeccable as per usual” I smiles appreciatively as he held the door to my shiny new BMW. As I sat down and buckled my seat belt the swarm of paparazzi advanced toward the blacked out window trying to capture any kind of picture they could.

“Good day Ms Taylor?” Stanley asked politely, a relaxed expression on his face.

I slid my sunglasses over my eyes as the sun hung low over the built up London skyline. “The usual really Stan, Jasper shouting, Mum complaining” I replied, annoyance tingeing my reply.

“All will be different tomorrow Ms Taylor” He replied, smiling warmly.

All will be different tomorrow, tomorrow I say goodbye to modelling and hello to being a student! A law student to be exact. This news did not go down well with my agent Jasper, nor my mother Andrea. Their general opinion was that I was wasting my talent and Law was for boring, ugly people. No one can accuse them of being superficial! Yeah right.

“Stan, can we make a quick stop off? I feel the need for some real parental support” I declared abruptly.

“Of course Ms Taylor” Stan replied shortly.

My dad was the late, great Jimmi Taylor, lead singer and hell raiser with the rock band ‘At her Maj’s Pleasure’. He was crazy, spontaneous, a massive party animal but most of all he was the most amazing dad in the world. He worked hard to give me everything I could ever ask for. That was until he died in a car accident when I was fourteen, He left my mum and I heartbroken along with a nation of fans. I only chose to step into the spotlight in order to carry on the Taylor name and of course to keep my mum in the lifestyle she had become accustomed to.

“We’re here Ms Taylor” Stanley mentioned quietly, pulling me out of my thoughts. I stepped out of the car, nodding thanks to him as I gently closed the car door. I am not the type of celebrity that expects my doors to be opened, my staff to stand on ceremony, I wish to be viewed as down to earth and approachable by the staff that are in my company, not an easy task when you have a mother like mine, she believes we are upper class and should be respected by those ‘below’ us as she would say. She’s not a very likable woman as you will soon come to realise. Pushing my shoulders back as I quickly glance around, making sure no one is around. As much as I do appreciate the opportunities fame has brought me, when I am visiting my father, my only wish is privacy.

I walk slowly to his headstone, gently brushing off fallen leaves and dirt from the recent winds of the past winter. “Hey dad” I whisper, glancing at the many tributes left by his fans that decorate the headstone and surrounding area. A small teddy bear with a guitar strung from its neck is perched by his headstone and itis accompanying letter reads:

‘Rest in peace, your music inspired me and my generation. Rock on in heaven!!’

A tear slipped past my chin as I quickly brushed it away, the love the fans felt for my dad was and still is a massive comfort to me, it serves to remind me that he was not only my hero but many others as well. My thoughts drift as I read the other messages, careful not to move anything disturb the rows and rows or notes and pictures. Mum and I chose to have him buried here because of the sheer beauty of the park, the rows upon rows of neat trees line a private but spacious cemetery, a small church sit on top of a hill, the pathway leading up to that bordered with many flowers. Even at the end of winter, the setting sun reflects off the shiny marble surface of my fathers headstone casting light upon the many tributes.