Rebel Waltz / Paul Simonon.

Three.

Lauren held back her tears as she quickly walked through the streets of the bustling London City. That was it. She had no job, no income, and eventually she would have no home. Her rash decision suddenly made her feel like a blithering fool, how could she have been so stupid? She knew fine rightly her boss would not have one ounce of approval within him for her new found style.

She found herself in a nearby rundown play park. She smiled softly knowing her teen self would've loved it here. Her eyes danced through the tree branches which flowed about softly in the wind. There were a few teenagers, no older than 15 sitting on an old, splintered bench; enjoying the afternoon and hanging out.  Lauren shivered, thinking about how uncomfortable it would be to put her hands on it, nevermind sitting on it.

The time seemed to pass quickly, as she had not realised the hours that had flown by whilst she was observing her surroundings. Her hands fumbled at her side, trying to find the small handbag that her mother had gifted her the Christmas before. After she had a grasp on it she stood quickly to her feet, and dandered on over by the black fence with blistering paint.

Once again she stood observing everything around her. It had gone 7pm now, everyone had finished work by now and it was a Friday evening so people had began to enter the pubs in the area. Lauren found it interesting to watch the people. It was a time where girls and guys alike were no longer afraid to be different. .

She saw your average middle age woman, your mid 20s girl who enjoyed extravagant makeup and fun colours, and she saw the  punk scene she had grown to appreciate.

No matter what they looked like, she knew they were all the same. They all had jobs, a family, and someone to care about. It was fascinating.

                           ~~~~~~~

By the time she had entered her apartment it was dark and late. Her day had been exhausting. All she wanted to do was pick up the phone and cry to her mother, but that was not the way to go.

Ms Rachelle was a judging woman who stood ground to her roots. There was no sympathy in her heart, and she firmly believed that women should be seen and not heard. It was within Lauren's best interest that she would not tell her mother about the days events.

Sauntering into her tiny living space, Lauren slumped onto the sofa and turned on the TV. There wasn't much to watch, as there never was. In fact, it would be more interesting to sit and look at the cream walls she was surrounded by.

Boring, boring, boring. That was all Lauren's life ever seemed to be. There was not much to it at all.

Her hands fumbled with her impulse haircut. It made her feel different, it made her feel confident. She had yet attempted to 'put it up'.

Contemplating wether or not to turn her hair into concrete with egg whites and beer at that very moment, Lauren decided that it would be an adventure for the next day. Y'know, to begin her new life.

Because starting that next day, it would be the end to Lauren Rachelle's boring lifestyle.