Book 1: Lost In Translation (Another Reason To Cry) (Izzy Stradlin FanFic)

Ch. 9: Lost In Disapproval

I know that I'd told Melody that I'd be waiting right there for her when her mom was done speaking with her, but I couldn't help myself; I wanted to explore.

Her house was similar to my own now that Guns had hit it big with Appetite for Destruction. It was large and fancy-only hers seemed way more dormant than my own. It was tidy and seemed to be empty, save for some well-placed furniture and the four people currently in the house. My house was usually alive with a late night party or some band rehearsal. This was just depressing. But I guess Melody wouldn't notice if it was dead silent or not. Still, the loneliness itself was palpable, and that was enough to make me feel sorry for the girl.

I put my shades on and began walking the same steps that Melody had taken to follow her mother. I took the staircase on the left, disappearing down the same dark hallway that Melody's mom had trudged through.

I noticed all of the pictures on the walls were of famous paintings and sketches. There were no family portraits to be found. I was slightly disappointed. I'd been hoping to see a picture of baby Melody somewhere on the wall.

I continued on down the hall until I heard a hushed voice coming from behind a large, oak door. I instantly recognized it as Melody's mom. The acid in her tone made me shiver.

"First the cats and dogs and now...that?" I heard her snarl. "Melody, I will never understand why you feel the incessant need to drag home every stray you find."

Stray? That's a bit harsh. I looked down at my less-than appealing clothes and frowned. Okay. Maybe 'stray' is right. But still....

"But he's different, mom," Sandra's voice sounded unimpressed as she translated for Melody. "He's an artist. A musician."

I restrained myself as the sudden need to dance a jig right then and there jolted throughout my body. Melody said I'm different! She's defending me!

"A musician?" Her mom let out what can only be described as a demonic chuckle. "A 'different' musician? What? Does he write music that only deaf people can hear?"

There was nothing but silence. I could practically feel my heart breaking at her mother's cold words. What a cooze.

"That's what I thought," she muttered. "You honestly thought a man like that is out for love? He's like every other suitor. All he wants to do is to leech off of our money. Honestly, Melody, you silly girl...have I taught you nothing? Does he even know sign language?"

There was a long pause and I cringed.

"No," came Sandra's voice, loud and proud.

"Just as I suspected. Think about it, darling: what could one want from an innocent rich girl who they can't even communicate with? Sex and money."

Her voice was now winding down and becoming much sweeter, but to me, it still sounded rotten.

"That will be all. Go play with your new toy."

"Yes, mother," Sandra said.

I heard footsteps beginning to pound their way towards me.

"Shit, fuck!" I growled as I tripped over myself, trying to hurry and run back down the hallway. I sprinted towards the stairs and practically flew over each step. I landed with a loud thud just as Sandra and Melody came into view above me.

Sandra was giving me an annoyed and suspicious look while Melody, bless her little heart, just beamed down at me. She was probably just happy that I had stayed precisely where I said I would stay.

She started signing at Sandra. Sandra rolled her eyes and signed back, making Melody lightly slap her arm and motion towards me. Sandra grumbled a bit before turning to me.

"Come see my room," she said blandly.

I looked at Melody in disbelief. Right now? Right after that argument with her mom? I didn't want to get her in trouble.

"Are you...are you sure?"

Melody nodded excitedly. She motioned for me to follow her before turning back around and heading back down the hallway. I scrambled back up the stairs, dashing after her.

I thought I heard Sandra mutter "tramp" as I hurried passed, but I was too busy following the flowing red mane in front of me to care.