A Living Fantasy (BLG Fan Fiction)

Chapter Twenty-Six

The next day was like any other. My parents talked to me as I pretended to care, as if the whole tour/Martin thing didn't already occupy all my thoughts. And then I, as usual, tried to subtly convince my parents to let me go, and they (though quite obviously) pretended not to pick it up as they continued their morning routine.

I had hoped this morning would be different, now that Anthony was helping me. But it was the same story, just like it had been for the past couple weeks. I was beginning to grow tired of trying, but I sure as hell wasn't ready to give up yet.

It's a gift and a curse, my friend. I don't give up easily (if ever), but sometimes I don't know when to quit, when, perhaps I really should consider it.

The guys were leaving tomorrow, which means today was my last day to get on my folks good side. If I failed today, it would be over. As much as I began to feel it was all a hopeless, futile attempt, there was still that stubborn streak in me that wouldn't let this go. Besides, I still had the whole day to try and change my parents mind. It only took them all of 30 seconds to decide I was grounded, maybe it could flip back just as quickly.

But I was wrong.

As the day went on, no matter what I tried, no matter what Anthony said - it didn't work. By the end of the day, my parents remained as stubborn as an ox, and all our attempts were in vain. Maybe they had every reason to be this way, though. I mean if I thought my daughter secretly slept with their boyfriend, lied about it, and then continued to try and change my mind on letting her go away for two months on tour with the guy - I'd probably stick my ground, too. But then again, I also would've given her a chance to explain herself...

I thought about running away. Slipping out in the night, then escaping on the tour bus. It could work, and fairly easily I might add. But it was too risky. And I was already in enough trouble. I didn't need another reason for my parents to be mad at me; or for them to believe I was lying this whole time and that they were "right." It just wasn't worth the risk.

Eventually, I just grew tired of the whole charade. I was exhausted and just needed to sleep. I decided to finally throw away the towel, give up, and head upstairs. As I walked to the staircase Anthony gave me an apologetic smile. At this point I didn't even blame him anymore. I knew he never intended this. All I could do was return the smile (weakly, I might add) and continue up to my room, ready to have a good, long, and hard cry.

Warning: flash flooding may occur all throughout the night.

 ***

Red.

I saw red. Like a sudden shine of brightness blinded my already blinded eyes, still wet from all the silent tears I shed last night. Thrusting my eyes open I saw my mother shoving my pastel green curtains back, sending bright rays of the morning sun in my room. I swear, my room must've been five times brighter.

"Wake up, honey!" I heard her cheerful voice chirp through the morning air. I glanced over and squinted at my clock on the nightstand.

9:30. What is life. And why was my mother waking me up so early? I mean she usually let's me sleep in at least another hour. And why is she being so cheerful??

Eh, screw it. The morning makes me cranky.

Sitting up, I slowly unsquinted my eyes as I let them adjust to the bright sunshine. "What?" I said in confusion, my voice still in its morning croakiness.

"Come on, Rebecca!" she continued, urging me out of bed. "You don't have much time, you gotta pack!"

Oh great, I thought, mentally rolling my eyes. What now? Were they shipping me off to Timbuktu to keep me away from Martin? Yeah, as if three houses down the street with all their other restrictions wasn't bad enough. Why were they punishing me? I sighed. I didn't and never did anything.