Don't Stop Believin' (COMPLETED)

1. Hollywood Hills

HOLLYWOOD HILLS - SUNRISE AVENUE

Author's Note:

I haven't decided if this is going to be the prologue or the first chapter, but for now it's the first chapter... The "real" story doesn't start yet, this is just for you to get to know the background...

And please comment/fan/vote if you like this :D

Dedicated to EmmaMichelleGordon for being really nice and kind and answering my (probably) annoying questions... :P

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6 months earlier

The music was still pounding in my head, even though it was almost a quarter since I had left the cramped, sweat-smelling room my friends forced me to earlier the same evening. The headache was about to kill me and it didn’t matter how many times I rubbed my hands to my temples; It refused to go away. But it was totally my own fault because I took that last drink, although I knew it would be too much for me. The pointy heels I wore were killing my feet and they didn’t make the walk easier. Several times I was close to walk straight to the people I met, but they avoided me as much as possible.

The short light blue dress fluttered around my thighs when the cars swished past me as I walked along Hollywood Boulevard thinking evil thoughts about my so called friends. They’d left me alone in the squalid nightclub at one of the backstreets. "Why did I even came to this stupid trip!?” I thought irritably, trying to kick a stone that lay before me in the street, but missed it and was about to topple over. The blond hairstyle Lea helped me with earlier in the evening was completely destroyed and strands of hair were hanging down in my face. The makeup was probably a catastrophe too. Oh, how I hated Lea and Jen! My thoughts spun around in my drunken head and all I wanted was to get home to my own little room at the farm in Colorado. Instead I was stuck in Los Angeles, drunk and lost.

Suddenly, I realized that I had come into another narrow street a bit from the road. I could still hear the cars' engines and in front of me I saw a small cafe that seemed pretty empty. The thought of getting away from the car exhausts and the street lights that dazzled my burning eyes was so enticing that I didn’t discovered that my feet already had began to move in that direction, until I had walked across the tiny sidewalk and saw my pale hand on the handle. I stopped, hesitated for a second before I pressed the palm against the glass door and stepped into the coffee-scented room.

It was almost empty inside the white painted room with cheap plastic tables and sofas. The walls were covered with what looked like white tiles and reminded me very much of our bathroom at home. In the other end of the oblong room, to the left of where I stood in the doorway, there was a half wall that divided the cafe from the kitchen and on a countertop which was affixed to the wall there was an old cash register. Careful, because I could actually read the sign next to the doorway and I didn’t want to slip, I went over the freshly scrubbed floor and slowly sank down in the corner of a sofa by the window.

Through a small gap between two houses I could see how the people hurried out of the illuminated boulevard and the tourists who stopped and took pictures of the Walk of Fame across the road. I laughed to myself. That was how tourists should behave, not as me and my friends behaved.First when I sat down, I noticed that there was a man with tousled brown hair a little further down the hall and he his head was resting in his hands. It almost looked like he was sleeping... As quiet as possible, to not arouse the perhaps sleeping customer, I put down the bag on the table and for a moment I thought I saw a monster in the gleaming iron line that surrounded the gray table surface. I shook my head in confusion and leaned back against the seat but I soon had to lean forward again to pull the zipper on the bag, as the perfectionist I was.