chapter one | moving day

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~FLEUR~

The morning sun burnt through the crack between Fleur's curtains, rudely waking her half an hour before her alarm was due to go off. It's not like I slept well anyway, she thought to herself. Tossing and turning all night, worrying about moving to the big city. CENTRAL LONDON! AND ALONE?! Sometimes she wondered what she was even thinking when she made these decisions.

No. She sat bolt upright and pushed her unruly bed hair back from her face. No talking myself out of this. This is what I want, what I need, she thought.

It had been exactly three weeks and four days since Fleur received her offer letter from LIVEwire Magazine, to be a columnist. She could barely believe it. I mean, it wasn't her dream job, that was writing novels, but it was definitely a step in the right direction. A step away from here. She'd applied on a total whim, not expecting to hear anything, but within four days she'd had a Skype interview and the offer letter soon after.

At her family's farm, Fleur had nothing and no-one. She had no friends anymore. As soon as she'd finished her A-Levels and left school to work on the farm, they'd all cut contact with her. She wasn't allowed to go to University - though she probably could have if she'd put up a fight with her dad - so she had nothing in common with any of them; and so they weren't interested in her. Her dad barely did anything but grunt, huff and drink his way to eternal misery and her brother, Luke, locked himself away in his room, only coming out for food. Talking about her mother was completely taboo, so she avoided it at all costs. It wasn't much of a farm they owned; they had too many chickens and two horses. They all pitched in, but Fleur took care of the horses herself, Whisper and Shadow. They were all she'd miss from this place, that's for sure. Whisper and Shadow were two Irish Sport Horses. Whisper was stark white and Shadow dapple grey. She taught the local children in the neighbouring villages to horse-ride, only the very basics, which is how the farm made most of it's money - that, and eggs. Masses of eggs. As expected, her dad was furious when Fleur explained she was moving to London for good (she'd hoped), so there would be nobody on the farm to teach the lessons. Unless Luke stepped up, she had suggested before realising he wouldn't in a million years. For the last three weeks her dad pretended she didn't even exist, and if he saw her entering a room, he'd grab his nearest bottle of cheap whisky and leave. It was better this way and much easier to say goodbye. She kept telling herself all these things repeatedly, but still the thought of moving made her stomach churn.

Dragging herself out of bed, she looked around the empty room. It felt cold and bare, like it could never have been hers at all. All her drawings of the farm gone from the wall, every book she'd read multiple times, all of her clothes, makeup and the like in just one, big suitcase. After brushing her hair into it's normal state, she brushed her teeth before pulling on a black hoodie, some leggings and her converse she'd saved up for months to buy - they were the only shoes she owned that weren't wellies or trainers. She figured she wouldn't have much use for wellies in the middle of London.

As she wheeled her suitcase into the corridor, she thought about saying goodbye. She walked slowly up to her brother's bedroom door, knocked once, but before she could talk herself out of it the door was swung open.

"What?" A scruffy teenager with wild hair and bloodshot eyes stood in the doorway.

"Good morning to you too.." Fleur replied sarcastically, a little taken aback by the fact that he'd even opened the door to her. 

He just stood, staring at her with a blank face. "So.. I'm leaving now. I mean, really leaving.."

Luke shuffled his position a little and pulled his messy, brown fringe from his eyes. "Oh.. Today?"

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