Misery

Chapter 1

The rain thrashed on my window, throwing blows at the delicate glass like a boxer with his opponent who couldn't stand a chance. Sighing and pulling myself up onto my elbows balancing on my mattress with my weak upper body, I threw a glare at the obnoxious droplets and throwing my head back in anger. 

I really need to get that fixed. 

I rolled over, scooping myself out of bed to get ready for work. Grabbing fresh jeans from my wardrobe and a jumper, seeing as though it's probably bloody freezing outside and with the rain not helping at all- it's probably best. 

I quickly get ready, pulling my hair up out of my face, applying my full face of makeup which only took thirty minutes- impressive. And tugging on my clothes, having to squat a few times in my jeans in order for them to loosen a little bit. 

In England, the weather is almost always awful, but that's the price we pay for living here. Although I never chose to live here, my parents did when they came from Italy like 30 years ago. I'd love to be in Italy, why the fuck would they ever want to make a life out here in this depressing country.

The only good thing that ever came out of them moving was their restaurant, it's actually amazing and everything tastes absolutely delicious. I work as a waitress, like two other people, George and Ella. They're both a similar age to me, and they are so lovely. The Bella Rosa is such a beautiful restaurant, it's only small but it's in the center of the city, and it can sometimes get a waiting list of up to 3 weeks in the holidays. It's doing really well for the family. My mother is on front of house and my father is head chef, and nothing could be better for them. 

However after being unable to afford University after my second year, I had to give up my History degree which meant everything to me, I wanted to continue with my studies and become a well known historian. Really make it for myself, but now, at 23 years old, I have to rely on working at my parents restaurant to make ends meet. 

Of course it isn't ideal, it's something I never wanted to do. To depend on my parents but it's what I can only do now. Maybe one day I will get a chance to take the last year of my History course, but it definitely won't be for a long time unless a miracle happens and I win the lottery or something. I highly doubt that. 

As I leave my little flat, above a clothing boutique I see my neighbor leave his apartment looking incredibly glum and angry. He slams his door shut and locks it with the key, rattling the other keys ferociously as he jams it into the door. 

I lock mine fast and leave the hall in peace, making sure to keep from looking at him, he's quite scary to be honest. His blonde hair and his pale complexion with a huge build makes him very intimidating. 

Once I reach my car which I've owned for seven years, I hop inside and drive down to my parents restaurant which is twenty minutes away. I've always hated how I've looked compared to my parents, my mother is absolutely gorgeous and has beautiful auburn curly hair with golden skin, it always looks sun kissed and she always looks like a model, regardless of how old she is. My father is typically Italian, with a belly that sticks out, a little bit more tanned than my mother but he's handsome too. Whereas for me,  I have really dark hair and pale skin, I look nothing like them whatsoever, I sometimes wonder if I am their child. After all, there are no similarities between us except my father always says that I have my mothers strange green eyes. That's it. I don't look like them other than my eyes. I look.... incredibly pale and incredibly British if I do say so myself. 

The drive was slow, red lights constantly stopping me from getting to work on time but once I reached the restaurant I quickly parked and headed inside to grab my apron and putting it over my head, tying it at the back and taking out my notebook and pen from the pouch. This 12 hour shift is going to kill me, but at least I'll get paid for it. 

"Ah Isabella, there you are!" Mother says as she rushes out from the kitchen, tucking a strand behind her ear and huffing. "You're ten minutes late!" Her accent is rich however she chooses not to speak Italian unlike my father. 

"I'm sorry Mum, I kept getting caught at red lights." I sigh, looking at her with guilty eyes. 

"It is okay, just please don't be this late again. You know how your father is." She rolls her eyes at the end and moves on to grill another worker presumably. 

As I move to look over bookings for tonight, I spot a huge one for 20 people. A celebration I suppose, but my name has been put on as the head waitress for it. We have a thing where we have the head waiter or waitress being responsible for large bookings but we have an assistant that helps with food and drinks. 

For fucks sake, my parents know how clumsy I am.

The day goes by faster than usual, and it's around ten minutes before our big party of people arrive, but the restaurant is already bustling with a wide range of people, such as couples celebrating anniversary's, friends on a night out, businessmen and women and families. All sorts of people that contribute to the restaurant. 

There are many regulars here tonight, but also a lot of newcomers, which is a really good thing. 

The front bell rings and the door swings open, revealing a lot of people wearing black and leather, a few ordinary people merged with them but mainly all people with tattoos looking like gothy punks I suppose. 

I go to greet them and ask for their reservation. 

A man with long black hair, who looks a few years older than me steps forward and smiles at me, "Will, Will Gawler." 

"Right this way." I smile back and walk to their long table previously put together by myself and George. The people take their seats and I hand out our wine red menus before leaving to let them decide on drinks and what not. 

"Bella, oh my fucking god!" Ella whispers at me, her purple hair still perfectly curled after an already long shift. 

"What? What's wrong?" I ask, turning to her and seeing her look at the group of people in shock. 

"That. That is my favourite band. They're called Novena, the guy you spoke to then is the lead singer." She hyperventilates, her eyes widening and closing and her hands shaking so badly she has to clench them into fists but they still shake. 

"Go say hi then! What are you waiting for." I laugh, but her head snaps at me and she glares. 

"I can't do that! I'm still on my bloody shift!"

"Right.. well hopefully at the end of the night you can." Enthusiastically I pat her back and grab my pen and pad. "I'll be back soon, don't die on me." 

Walking over to the table and standing at one end I greet the group, "Hi, I'm Isabella. I'll be your waitress this evening. Would you like anything to drink?"

As I get halfway down the table, I get to the 'lead singer' and he orders a water... odd for a band member but hey. We all have our reasons. Every time I look up I see him smiling faintly at me which is odd. No one really smiles at me for a long time. 

Once I finish getting their orders from their drinks I go over to the bar where Ella is anxiously waiting. "Will was really looking at you then... he fucking likes you oh my god!"

I laugh at her and simply roll my eyes, no one ever likes me. So why would he?