The Unexpected

I'm Talia Brookes. I'm 18 and I live a harsh life. My dad left me and my mom when I was young, then I watched my mom die right beside me, when I was 11. I live alone, in an apartment in New York City. I work at WEEKENDS, a restaurant on the other side of the city. I also work with Charlie, he's kind of like my dad. One day Charlie and I get two new employees, Aimee and Andrea. They're rich, so they must be snotty and stuck-up. The worst part is they always talk about some stupid boy band, One Direction. I hate One Direction, even though I haven't heard a single lyric from any of their songs. One day while the three of us are working, 8 guys walk in. 2 of them come in our direction and the other 6 head for a booth near the window. That's the moment when everything was unexpected and our lives changed forever.


1. Chapter 1

~Taila's POV~


I came back to the counter with the smell of wine in my hair. The cook looked at me with a disappointed face. "What did they do to you now?" He asked. His name was Charlie, he helped me get through things. "Someone broke a wine bottle on my head." I told him. I started crying and digging through my hair to pull out a few small pieces of broken glass. They were all bloody, I should have never gotten in the middle of two crazy wasted people.


 He came over and hugged me tightly. He took the pieces of glass and threw them in the trash. "We need help. This place is too crazy at night" Charlie said. "Nonsense, the boss wouldn't help us to save the world." I looked over at the rest of the restaurant, this place did need help. Everyone looked like they would strangle anyone any minute. I wiped the tears from my face. I needed this job, I can't afford my crappy apartment without it.


"Now go get that awful smell out of that beautiful blonde hair of yours, and wipe those pretty green eyes I know." Charlie said. I smiled and then walked over to the kitchen. Charlie was always there for me, when my dad left, my mom died, none of my family members wanted me in their life, so Charlie was pretty much like my father. Only he DOESN'T leave. I grabbed my bag off the floor and walked out of the crazy place. I looked at the front of the restaurant, it was a wreck. The sign spelt out, 'WEENS' instead of 'WEEKENDS' like it was suppose to. The lights buzzed, a guy was passed out on the front step, cracks where street kids threw rocks, everything was just ugh. I know what your thinking, WEEKENDS, odd name right? Well it's called WEEKENDS because our idiot boss just wanted a catchy title. Our boss was the idiot Frank Howard, I didn't like him but he at least got me a job.


I turned left and started walking to my apartment. I only lived 4 or 5 minutes away. I hated walking to my apartment by myself, I lived in New York and it wasn't the best place. I moved here from Florida so I didn't have a New Yorker accent. I remember Florida, always sunny and bright. It didn't snow so we never had the roads closed. I miss Florida, my home, but I came to New York for a fresh start. That and I believe my dad is still here so I can at least have a little chance of finding him. He left when I was 6, I never saw him again. I'm already 18, and I still can't get him out of my mind. The thing that bothered me the most was that he just left, without saying goodbye, and I want to know the reason why. I'm going to find out someday maybe, but for right now I'm just a girl struggling to have a life. I unlocked the door to my apartment and came in. It was small, clean, but small. I only had a bathroom, a room, the living room, and a kitchen. It was two stories, but still.


I went up to my room to pick out some new clothes. I put a tank-top and some soccer shorts on my bed and grabbed a towel. I got into the shower and put shampoo in my hair to get the awful smell out of it. The whole shower all I smelt was wine. The wine bottle was full when the people smashed it on my head. Blood was also all over the shower, I had to pick the rest of the glass out of my head. I washed all the blood out by kicking water at it with my foot. Lazy, but easy. I got out of the shower and grabbed my towel. I then put on my clothes to go to sleep. The smell was out of my hair, so it didn't smell like wine everywhere I went in my apartment now. I checked my IPhone to see a text from Charlie. Hey, I know what your thinking, Charlie may be 45 but he's helped me through everything!


The text read Hey! Hope you made it to the house, I'm closing the place now, hope your not bleeding anymore need anything?. I felt the top of my head to make sure there was no more blood. I looked at my hand, it was perfectly none red. So I replied with Nope, not bleeding, I don't need anything probably just rest and ect thx. I put down my phone and went downstairs for something to eat. I opened my mini fridge that was on top of the counter. I had frozen pizza, soda, leftover sandwich, water, juice, grapes, blekkk. I really need to go shopping.


I took out a small piece of pizza and plopped it into the microwave. I sat at my small kitchen island waiting for the microwave to go DING and give me a heart attack before I could even touch the pizza. I wish we could have some more help, I was getting sick and tired of people treating me like crap and could really use some back-up. Mom wouldn't have wanted it to be like this, she was the only one who ever loved me, until she got breast cancer and died. I missed her just as much as dad, only, deep down I missed dad even more. I don't know why, he never did anything for us, but I just did. It's confusing. I ran my fingers threw my hair, trying to dig and find the answer. It never came up. Just then the microwave went DING!


I jumped and snapped back into reality. I sighed when I found out it was just the microwave. I didn't even want it anymore thinking about my parents. I sighed, then just went upstairs to my room. I laid down on my bed, thinking about both of them. Mom had brown hair, and blue eyes, with a little freckle here and there. The gleam in her eye could make anyone smile. Dad had blonde hair, green eyes, no freckles, just tan and a little buff from what I remember in the pictures.Pictures! I jumped off the bed and shoved my hands under it.


I found what I wanted and set it on the bed. I jumped up on the bed and sat Indian style right in front of it. It was a white and pink box, with a paisley design. I unhooked the clip and opened it up. There were pictures inside, of me, mom, dad, and some other members of my family. I took out one picture, it was a photo of me, mom, and dad at the beach. I looked to be 2 years old. Dad was holding me in his buff arms, and mom had her arms around dad smiling. I had little shades on, with a flower swimsuit, and a hat made out of straw. I looked at my mom, she had the gleam in her eye. I felt tears rolling down my face.


Then my eyes moved to my dad, he looked a lot like Tom Cruise, only blonde and with a different style of hair. I even smiled at him. I cried more. I looked like my dad a lot, if there was a competition of being the girl version of him I would win. I had nothing of my mothers, except my woman form of course, I was curvy like her, and the rest of my body was all her. I picked up another photo, this one was me, dad, and another family member at the airport. I think it was my aunt. I was on my dad's shoulders, and my aunt had her hand around dad smiling. It looked like I was 5.


At the bottom of the photo there was handwriting in red pen. It said On our way to California to see grandma with Aunt Kim! So that is who the woman was, I knew she was my aunt! I traced the handwriting. It was my mothers, I could recognize it from 678 miles away. I felt more tears staining my cheeks, which were now probably red. I pulled out another photo, it was one of me, and mom. It was at the doctors office, my mom was in a wheelchair and a I was in her arms. I was a newborn, I could tell. I was wrapped in a pink blanket and I was in my mom's arms. I smiled. I remember the good times. I remember playing soccer with her, I sucked at it, but she was a pro. I would cry at sucking, but she always said, "a winner wins something, a loser forgets it and moves on to win something else." Those words helped me to get into volleyball when I was 10. Mom died when I was 11. She even died on a day of my volleyball game, and I got kicked off the team for missing the big game. I looked at my mom, all around her were water splats from my tears. I wiped them away to see her face more clearly. She was smiling with the same gleam in her eyes. I smiled too, she made me want to smile. Even if I was crying. There was more handwriting at the bottom, it said Beautiful baby Talia. It was in that same red ink written by my mother. I traced them, still having tears splat onto the photo. The whole night I was looking at photo's and tracing my moms handwriting. I missed her more than anything. But I still had this feeling in my gut, telling me that I actually missed dad more.


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