Stardom *DISCONTINUED*

Chapter Two

-Bex's P.O.V.-

The flight landed what felt like an eternity later. As soon as we had a chance to exit the plane, Thorne, Thistle and I snatched our carryons from the compartments above our heads. Then, we rushed off the plane to the baggage claim. We picked up our bags before leaving the airport and hailing a taxi. Thistle rode shotgun this time and she told the young female driver that we were going to the bus station. Upon arrival at the bus station, we clambered out of the cab. I paid the brunette girl upon my exit. Thistle, Thorne and I grabbed our bags from the trunk of the taxi cab and meandered into the station.

Thistle left her bright pink suitcases with Thorne and I. The red haired girl walked over to the line and bought our bus tickets to Orillia. We sat down on a bench outside. It was cooler in Ontario than it was in Naniamo and it made me wish I'd brought a sweater. Without intending to, I let out a small complaint about the chill. Thorne, unfortunately, overheard this and took off her jacket, handing it to me. My eyes widened as my friend was unfased by her lack of coat. She only had her favourite brown corset on and didn't bristle in the slightest at the new chill. I shook my head and told her to put it back on and she would get a cold if she didn't. Surprisingly, Thorne didn't fight me and instead opened my carry-on that she'd packed the week before. She pulled out Daniel's dark denim jacket. I looked confused for a moment. Then I remembered, Daniel outgrew it in June and gave it to me. Thistle just put up with it.

Our Greyhound bus arrived 30 minutes later. Our cases were loaded into the bus, and we went and sat. It was an hour drive to Orillia. The bus ride was kind of a blur; I slept the whole way. Thorne stayed awake and informed me it was an hour later when we arrived. Thorne had Thistle and I collect te cases while she phoned a taxi. Ten minutes later, we were on our way home.

We trudged into the older looking home when we arrived, after paying the man driving the cab. Thistle unlocked the door, and entered; Thorne and I followed her. I was so glad that this house came with furniture. I hauled my bag up to one of the rooms, staking my claim, and started unpacking the suitcases.

The boxes of things we sent over earlier are in the P.O. box at the post office that is only a 15 minute walk from here. Thistle wasn't even paying attention, having crashed on the couch. Thorne, on the other hand, gave me a thumbs up and continued dancing around as she put away her things.

I traveled to the post office and slowly emptied out the P.O. box over three trips to-and from the house to the office. The woman at the desk loaned me a cart to take the packages home and bring them back. I thanked her for the kindness. She was middle aged, with black hair, brown eyes and olive skin. The woman smiled warmly at me, introducing herself as Erin Armstrong. She mentioned having kids my age that attened the local university, Lakehead. Her 24 year-old daughter was named Zaria and majoring in engineering. Her son, Xander, was majoring in women's studies and he was 20. She also had a non-bianary child named Alex, aged 22, who was a major in psychology. As I filled the cart each time, we talked. Erin asked about what I was planning to major in at the university, and my friends. I didn't really have an answer for her. She also talked about her family. Turned out she was a single mom of three. From the way she spoke, they were her world. After returning the cart, I thanked Erin again for her kindness and company. She smiled at me and invited Thistle, Thorne and I to have dinner with her family on a bi-weekly basis, starting the next day. I accepted and told her we would be there, after which she gave me the address as well as telling me that dinner was at 6:45.

I entered the house, and started to pick up my boxes to take them to my room. Methodically, I opened my boxes. I set out some of my pictures on the dresser and hung others up on the walls. I put up my posters of Blake Shelton, Luke Bryan, Florida Georgia Line, Little Big Town, The Band Perry, Lady Antebellum, Taylor Swift, Hunter Hayes, Miranda Lambert, Shania Twain, Carrie Underwood and Keith Urban. Also I tucked away all my clothing then nestled my empty suitcases under my bed. I was done unpacking. It only took two hours. Oh crap, where the hell was my guitar? I ran down stairs and checked the pile of boxes, only to come up empty handed.

"Bex, what are you looking for?" Thorne questioned, her voice carrying from the stairwell.

"My guitar. Have you seen it?" I responded.

"I think it's still at the post office," Thistle snickered, smiling. She was up to something.

"Thistle give me my guitar," I demanded, clenching my fists and jaw in frustration.

She didn't reply, just smiled evilly. I turned around and ran back up the stairs into Thistle's room. I stalked to the bed and reached my hand under the covers. My hand came into contact with something furry. It was her teddy bear, Fuzzy-Wuzzy. Determined not to let Thistle get her way, I went back down stairs into the sitting room with the bear and a pair of scissors. Entering the sitting room, I opened the scissors and held them up to the toy. I whistled to get Thistle's attention and Thistle's head snapped around.

"PUT FUZZY-WUZZY DOWN!" Thistle yelled, horrified at the thought of what I would do to her beloved stuffed toy should she prove difficult.

"I will if give me my guitar. If you don't, than Fuzzy-Wuzzy won't be so fuzzy anymore."

Thistle reluctantly complied. I got my guitar and she got her teddy bear. Once again, I went back up the stairs. I put my blue acoustic guitar into my closet and descended the stairs.

"Why don't we all go to that little diner we passed on the way here? What was it called again, "Mama Rosa's"?" I asked my friends.

We all agreed that nobody wanted to cook and the diner was close enough to walk. Quickly grabbed our wallets and walked out the door. Thorne locked the door before we headed on our to find the diner. "I just hope we don't get lost." I thought to myself.

One half-hour later, we finally found the diner and I found out that I was right about the name. There were little wooden tables with red, orange and white candles on them in candelabras. Comfortable looking chairs were placed around each table in the dimly lit room. A few minutes later we chose a table and seated ourselves. A charming Italian boy took our orders; Thistle ordered pasta with garlic in it, I had pizza and shared it withThorne but all of us ended up having their Italian soda.

"So what song are you guys going to sing?" I asked, munching on my food.

"I'm thinking 'This Little Girl' by Cady Groves." Thistle cheered.

" Simple Plan featuring Marie-Mai, 'Jet Lag'. What are you singing?" Thorne replied

"'Bless the Broken Road' by Rascall Flatts, 'It's Time' by Imagine Dragons or 'Blown Away' by Carrie Underwood."

"I thought you were over your country-loving faze?" Thistle said.

"HEY! 'It's Time' is not country." I attempted to defend myself.

"Whatever, bumpkin." Thistle waved my protests off.

"Thistle! Bex! Shut up! You two sound like an old married couple." Thorne said, cringing.

"Well maybe I did marry the hipster. What're ya going to do about it?" I retorted.

Thorne muttered something along the lines of "I'm going to pray that you're joking; I don't want to hear you two doing thefrickle-frackle when I'm trying to sleep."

Thistle lost her shit and shouted "We are not married! And, nothing against them, but I am not a lesbian"

I plastered a false look of horror on my face and asked "Does this mean we're getting a divorce? I thought you loved me!"

Thistle just said a firm "no" and Thorne mumbled an "I will never understand you two."