Bailamos? | Mark Owen [Take That]

Chapter 01

Chapter 01:

I was a graduate now and my summer holidays had already started leaving me not much time to make my father understand that they had accepted me in one of the best schools of art in the country.

"You will get used to seeing blood child" Papa said ignoring what I had told him.

"I will not study something I don't like!" I yelled and fiercely stood up from the table.

"You will do what I say as long as you live under my roof!" Papa told me seriously pointing at me with his fork "Once you’re a doctor you do what you want!"

"I’m gonna be a dancer!"

"You won’t, you hear me!?" Papa said angrily and stood up from the table.

"I will do as I please" I retorted without fearing Papa no more "I won't let you treat me as your father treated you, or do you want me to despise you for the rest of my life as much as you hate your old man?"

Those words were enough for my father to slap me vigorously on my face as I saw his eyes misting over with rage. I knew that what I had pronounced were the words that nobody had ever dared tell him. Those words had hurt Papa as much as his cold attitude towards the dreams for my future had hurt me.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that again or---" Papa trailed off.

"Or what!?"

"Or you leave this house" he calmly said as I saw Enrique crying in Momma's arms and she debated herself between interfering or not. She had always feared Papa and she well knew she shouldn't ever contradict him as the scene which had just taken place would be repeated unflaggingly.

"I would rather leave this dump than live with a man who does nothing else than making his family's lives miserable" I courageously said and walked over to my bedroom to pack my bags before Papa would angrily shout at me "Get out of my house!"

Being a teenager with no more money than the couple hundred bucks saved from my monthly allowances left me without much choice by the time of thinking where I would live from then on, or at least where I would spend the first night away from home: it had to be at Greta's or at Elizabeth's or in the street.

****

Liz, Gre and I were best friends since primary school and we went to the same high school too. We spent as much time together as we could, often driving down the streets with an uncertain destination or just at one of our homes, locked in our rooms reading a magazine, chatting about guys, listening to our favourite pop groups or even procrastinating instead of doing the homework.

Despite of what they said, their parents were really cool cuz they let us hang out in their houses and they patiently listened to our discussions about who were better: 'The New Kids on the Block' or their British rivals 'Take That'. Gre and I preferred 'The New Kids...' but Liz was always pointing out that 'the lads' were way better than 'the kids' because their accent was neater than ours. She said she was going to marry one of those five blokes - she liked one with black spiky hair and blue eyes if I'm not wrong.

Greta's mum was the coolest mum ever. One day she hurriedly came into Gre's bedroom without knocking and sat down on the bed next to me. When Gre asked her what she was doing there, she started laughing and saying she was hiding from Gre's dad and took a bottle of vodka out. She had it under her sweater and offered us some but we didn't know what to tell her cuz let's face it, it's not that your mum comes into your room every day offering you a drink!

"Here Angie..." she said and held the bottle out to me after she drank from it "You go first"

"Oh no... I---" I wasn't sure of what to do so I looked at Gre and she was not looking so happy: she was frowning and folding her arms.