PUNK'd

Chapter Six: Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)

          "THIS IS A WAKE UP CALL FOR HAILEY BLAIR!! GET YA ARSE UP, SWEETHEART!!"

          For the tenth day in a row at exactly 10 o'clock in the morning, Elliott's loud voice blared into my room over the sound system set up in the living room. Elliott was at his microphone stand, chanting good morning taunts at me while Duncan banged at his drums with nervous energy. They'd done this every morning since I moved in. Elliott was adamant about practice, and for some God awful reason, he preferred to hold this practice in the morning.

          I was not a morning person.

          "Ugh... Come on..." I mumbled, unable to believe that they could keep this routine EVERY MORNING. I rolled over in bed unto my stomach, and pulled a pillow down over my head in a vain attempt to block out the morning's annoyance. For the past ten days when this had happened, I had begrudgingly hopped out of bed and practiced with the boys. This time; however, I was sleeping in. 

          I blocked out the noise for what must have been about five minutes before it finally stopped. Ahh, sweet silence. It looks like on this morning, I had won my right to sleep. I rolled over onto my side with a smile on my face, and happily continued sleeping. 

          "I hope you don't sleep naked, love, cuz I'm coming in!!"

          I sat up quickly in bed, and found Elliott bursting into my room. Duncan peered in nervously, somewhat covering his eyes with his hands, before he let them fall back down to his sides and walked in as well. 

          "What are you doing?? You can't just burst in here!!" I yelled, throwing a pillow at Elliott. Elliott dodged the projectile, and it ended up hitting Duncan instead. 

          "Well, if you're just going to ignore my initial wake up call, then you leave me no choice but to come in here and drag you out." 

          Before I could even argue, Elliott reached under the covers, grabbed me by my left ankle, and started pulling me out of bed. 

          "What are you doing?? Stop!!" I yelled. I grabbed the other pillow on my bed, and whacked Elliott across the face as hard as I could with it. He let my ankle go. 

          "What is your problem?" He yelled, holding his head.

          "What's my problem?? I should be asking you that!!"

          "We have practice every morning at 10 o'clock. What about that don't you understand? Are you still on central time? You're about six hours behind, love." 

          "No, I just don't know why I've got to wake up and practice first thing in the morning. I thought rock stars slept all day. What kind of backwards punks did I move in with, huh?" I threw the covers off of me, and jumped out of bed. "Most importantly, HOW DO YOUR NEIGHBORS NOT HATE YOU??"

          "Oh, they hate us," Duncan said, trying unsuccessfully to conceal his amusement. 

          I turned away from Elliott to look at Duncan who stood behind him. 

          "Duncan," I began, "do you like waking up every morning to practice?"

          Elliott turned his head to the side, and flashed Duncan an angry look. Duncan backed away nervously. 

          "Not particularly," Duncan answered with a nervous smile directed towards Elliott.

           Elliott growled in annoyance, and walked out of my bedroom, throwing his hands up in aggravated defeat.

          "See? This is why I didn't want an American in our group."

          "Excuse me?" I snarled, walking past Duncan in the doorway and following Elliott into the living room. Elliott turned around and leaned in to look me dead in the eye.

          "Americans always come in, and try to change things. They are entitled little sods."

          My jaw dropped open in shock. Suddenly, the anger in me reached a boil. 

          "Oh yeah?? Well we kicked your ass in the Revolutionary War!!" I yelled, shaking my head in regret soon after at the lameness of my insult. 

          Not wanting to stick around any longer in case I started throwing hands with this aggravating, ginger dick head, I stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door behind me. I stomped down the dirty, crud covered carpeted hallway, trying hard to hold back angry tears. Had I really moved away from home for this? To be controlled and belittled by some dictator wannabe asshole? Was this all a mistake?

          "Hailey!! Hailey, wait!!" 

          I turned around, fists clenched and burning tears streaming down my face to find Duncan running after me. 

          "Are you crying?" Duncan asked as he caught up to me. 

          I sniffed, and wiped angrily at the tears. "No," I answered. "What do you want?"

          Duncan wrapped one arm around my shoulder, and started leading me down the hallway towards the stairs. I felt the urge to throw his arm off and cuss him out for not sticking up for me, but I resisted, and allowed him to keep it where it was.

          "Come on, mate," he said. "Let's go calm ya down."

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(A/N: Who do you think is to blame in this situation? Or do you think both Hailey and Elliott are being way too stubborn?

In the next chapter, Hailey learns about Elliott's past and what makes him the way that he is. Please continue reading to find out what happens next.

All votes are appreciated, but comments help make this story better! All criticisms, comments, questions, ideas, and advice are welcome in the comment section below! I will be replying to all comments made!

Thank you for reading!)