My Godfather is Who?

Chapter 2

I woke up early and began crying when I realized where I was and why I was there. I've been doing this every day for the past two days, but today is worse. Today is the funeral. I pulled out my I-pod and put Slipped Away by Avril Lavigne on an endless loop. I gazed at the black dress and converse that I was going to wear. I know my aunt will kill me if I leave the house with those shoes and with that dress, but I could care less. My parents never minded my darker fashion statement, as long as I kept up my grades I could have my own style. "Breakfast is ready." I heard as I noticed Aunt Marie standing in the door way. "Not hungry." I mumble turning up my music. "You've barely eaten a thing. You need to eat. I can't have that Godfather thinking I haven't been taking care of you." she said coldly. I rolled my eyes and got out of bed. I know she's only being bitchier because she's sad about her sister, but still.

I scarfed down the bacon and eggs, but I was too distracted to taste any of it. "So who is this Godfather of mine?" I ask my aunt. She takes a long swig of her coffee and answers, "Never met the man. Your mother went on and on about how he was so perfect to look after you someday." I looked at her. "He lives in California." she finished her coffee, "Now go get ready." I obeyed. I was going from Florida to California. Life will never be the same no matter how hard I pretend it is.

I get dressed and straighten my dirty blonde locks. After applying grey eye shadow and a light layer of blush and mascara all, waterproof, I go out to the living room and put on my converses. Aunt Marie came out in her own funeral attire and stared at me as I laced up my shoes. "I hope you're not wearing those." she said, turning her nose up at yet another thing about me. She didn't like my clothes, music, or the red streaks in my hair. I just went on tying my shoes though. She said no more.

We traveled to the funeral home. As much as I tried to hold in my tears I couldn't when I saw my parents laying up there. I was seated in the front row while my aunt went to go speak with various members of my family. My parents looked as though they were only sleeping, only they know had cuts and scars along their arms and faces. I couldn't stop crying and I could feel their eyes on me. I heard whispers too. "Stella?" a man's voice said. I nodded, but didn't look up. He had a familiar voice, but again I couldn't place it. "H-hi. I'm your Godfather. My name's John, John Reed, but I go by Alex, like my middle name. I know these words never help, but I'm sorry for your loss. I honestly can't believe they're gone either" the man said. Shakily, I look up. I'm starring into a pair of beautiful brown eyes, ones I've known since I was like thirteen. It was him. The lead singer of The Trapped. Saying that he IS my Godfather. If it weren't for the circumstance I'd be super happy and fangirling right now. Why didn't they tell me John Alexander Reed might someday be held responsible for me? I'm stunned and don't say anything. The service soon starts. Alex sits next to me and holds my hand as I try to quiet my sobbing.

It seemed to fly by. Pretty soon my parents are six feet under and I'm back at my aunt's house, loading things up for the airport. I bid Aunt Marie a farewell as she dropped us off at the airport.

On the drive to airport Alex tells me how he met my parents. It turns out his mom and my dad grew up in the same neighborhood in Sacramento, California and were best friends growing up. My parents and his even attended each other's weddings. Apparently we lived in California, until I was two years old. We moved to be closer to my mom's family and put my dad's mom in a retirement place after my Granddad passed. My parents never told me. "I remember when you were born. I was ten and my parents got all excited saying that their best friends were having their first kid." Alex reminisced. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. Seeing a punk about to cry is not something you see often. "They were great people. I just can't believe this is actually happening." he said. I swear I saw a tear run down the twenty-five year olds face.

After what felt like forever we finally reached the airport. The security checked our bags and us and let us pass. The plane ride was silent. I mostly starred out the window and listened to Mayday Parade. Alex occasionally asked me questions, trying to get to know me better. I've read and heard many interviews where he's talked himself, but it still isn't much. "Okay so...My favorite colors are blue and green. I'm fifteen. My favorite actress is Audrey Hepburn. My favorite musician would be you." I said. Alex chuckled and I blushed at my last answer. Alex thought for a minute. "My favorite color is blue, I'm twenty-five, my favorite actress is Helena Bonham Carter, and my favorite musician...ok I have a lot but I'm a huge fan blink-182, Green Day, Nirvana and a ton more." Alex replied. We laughed at his last answer. Well it wasn't a real laugh. It was a sad laugh. I've always wanted to meet Alex Reed, but not like this.

The plane finally landed. As we got off I heard the shrill sound of teenage girls screaming. "O.M.G. IT'S ALEX FROM THE TRAPPED!" A couple of girls, one looking about my age the other a little older ran over and smiled widely at Alex. They didn't look like the type to listen to his genre, they looked more One Direction or Justin Bieber. "Hi Alex c-can we get a picture with you?" the older one asked nervously. Alex tried to force a smile, but failed. The girls didn't notice though. "Sure." he said, smoothly. He put his arms around them and leaned down to their level as the older one snapped a picture. "O.M.G. Thank you so much!" the younger one said. Then she added, "Is that your girlfriend?" It took me a second to realize they meant me. Alex and I blush furiously. "N-no. She's my Goddaughter." Alex said. They started freaking out. The older one looked me in the eye and said, "You. Are. The. Luckiest. Girl. Alive." Saying each word like it was its own sentence. I just starred at her. "Is she emo?" the younger one asked the older one. The older one shushed her and hurried her off. I looked down and realized I was still in my funeral clothes, plus I have red streaks in my hair. "Sorry about that." Alex said, looking sincere. "It's okay." I mumble. We get our bags and catch a cab.

Alex on the side <3 ~~~>