The Underground {Palaye Royale} [Mystery/ Thriller] [ON HOLD]

// 2 //

You had your chance. Not going back now.

...

But wait, let's go back a little, so you can understand what really goes on between us all, besides all the creepy stuff.

// Madison //

I was the quiet kid. I didn't have many friends and even after I started becoming closer to Remington and Emerson, I was still quite distant, and nobody knew much about me. The thing is, there wasn't much to know. I wasn't an interesting person. I had nothing to offer. 

I had plain black short hair, grey eyes, average height for a 22 year old. Born and raised in Los Angeles (unlike my brother who is Canadian, the weirdo), I am coursing university, the photography course because I'm quite obsessed with it. My parents and brother never payed much attention to me; as I said, I was quiet, I didn't get in trouble, and was never the rebellious type; I accepted the rules, followed them, and was respectful. 

But as everyone, I did have some obsessions. Music being the first of them (followed closely by photography, fashion, antique stuff and books). I absolutely loved it, and if I wasn't listening to it, I was playing or composing. And when I knew my brother was in a fashion-art band, I freaked out. I wanted, for everything, to be in a band too; that somehow brought us (and his bandmates) closer.

So we started hanging out together more and more, and then, after one of their gigs, Remington decides that it's a good move to declare some love for me. Well, not exactly.

He was drunk - we all were - and we were at a bar, chatting. My brother had gone out to smoke a cigarette and Emerson was back at the bar, getting himself another drink, and I was left alone with Remington. He started this long rant about how feelings are always superficial and all you could expect from someone like him, and I listened intently, because I always listened to what they had to say, and then he kissed me. Out of the blue, he just decided to kiss me. 

Good going, moron. 

Made things awkward for three months, when he finally came to talk to me and apologize.

I was still uneasy about hanging out with them, mainly because of my brother, but he didn't seem to give a fuck about that, so it was okay.

But then, it was my turn to fuck things up.

I started developing feelings for Emerson.

Great, Madison. Great.

// When it started //

Madison's P.O.V.

They had just played another one of those gigs in a café, and decided to go out and celebrate. For some unknown reason, I was there too. I think, just think, I was going out for a coffee myself, and happened to bump into Emerson on my way inside, and so he told me about the gig, and I decided to stay. Yeah, that was it.

Anyway; them being the crazy idiots they were (and by this I mean complete freaked out, with no common sense whatsoever), they decided, not before a few drinks, that we should go to the Hollywood sign. Yeah, why not. 

And there we went; drining and driving, making our way to the borders of town. Sebastian, the less drunk of us all, was driving, and Remington was by side. Emerson and I were both on the backseats, singing along to basically anything that came up on the radio, and I just couldn't seem to stop laughing at the faces he was pulling. 

I looked closely; I had never realized how good looking he actually was. He was funny (though that's the last thing you expect him to be when you first meet him), really caring and sweet as well. He'd be a great boyf- But, I mean, it's never gonna happen anyway so I'd better snap out of it.

Did I just think that? That Emerson would be a great boyfriend? But what the hell is going on with me? This is like Remington kissing me, it makes absolutely no sense and would fuck our friendship up.

***

Three hours, an escalade, tripping, falling, sliding down on the grass, getting bruised and hurt, laughing our heads off and two tequila bottles later, we were finally settled somewhere, not laughing, talking nor getting hurt, just drinking... and admiring the view we had from the huge D we were on top of. [don't be dirty you idiots it's D for Hollywood] Classic. The rebel kids living the life... classic. 

Except that I wasn't a rebel kid.

But I didn't care!

- This is, - Remington started, waving his hands around. - Beautiful. 

- This? - I chuckled, mimicking his hands.

- Yes, my dear Madison, this. - He did it again, and I laughed.

- Well, what's this? - I asked, looking at him intently.

The answer may seem obvious - he was talking about the view. But I was drunk, and the hand movements were weird, so you can't blame me for asking.

- This, you know, this. This view. This moment. This drink, - He smirked, lifting the tequila bottle in his hand and I chuckled, nodding. - This life we're living. It's, - He narrowed his eyes and placed his index and middle fingers on his bottom lip, as if he was thinking. - What did I say earlier?

- Beautiful. - Sebastian butted in.

- Oh, yeah. That. It's beautiful. 

I laughed, and they laughed too.

He was right. It was beautiful. All of it.

I found myself staring at Emerson when he looked back at me and smiled shyly. I blushed and smiled back, before looking back to my shoes, my legs dangling freely. In normal circumstances I'd be horrified of this height, but in that moment I wasn't.

I felt strong, soft of powerful, strangely... invincible.

And I wanted to kiss Emerson so badly. 

I looked at my brother, who was too concentrated on his cigarette to pay any attention to me, and then at Remington, who was really entertained with the nearly empty bottle of tequila that was on his hands.

I shifted closer to Emerson and he smiled again, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, getting us even closer. I rested my head on his shoulder and admired the view.

I was going to kiss him, but let me admire the view first.

It really was beautiful.

But it didn't last long, as soon we head helicopter noises, wind was blowing furiously from above us, a bright light was shining down on us, and a voice was blaring from a speaker, telling us we couldn't be up there.

Cutting the long story short, three hours later we were on a cell, in the delegacy, to spend the night, until Sophie, from their management, could come and pay the bail to free us.

Good going in being a rebel.