"Uhg, turn that piece of rubbish off, Kat," Emma calls from the bed next to mine.
I laugh as I stretch out, groaning lightly while I turn the alarm clock on snooze. Today I have work, and then an interview. For the past year or so, I've been living here with Emma Harmon, my savior. A year ago, I escaped from my captors, the still-famous One Direction. If anything, the tour they tried to take me with them on has given them more publicity, and a good couple million more crazy fans.
Surprisingly, contrary to what most people would think, I don't fully hate them. I know I should, but I can't seem to be able to. Of course, I don't love them, I didn't even before they took me, so obviously I wouldn't like them more after they kidnapped me. But what I mean is basically, if a song of theirs comes on, I don't change the station. Usually...
I'll admit, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere if it wasn't for Emma. She really did save me. We've been living together at her flat for the past year. When we arrived, and finally got settled, she decided to mention she was a model, which I guess didn't really surprise me, because of how beautiful she is.
I've been working at the local Starbucks, one of the many in the busy city of London. I feel like staying here in England has really taken a toll on my articulation. I've started using the terms that I hear everyday, and surprisingly my accent itself is starting to sound more British than I thought it ever would in the first place.
Emma keeps trying to tell me that if she set up a meeting for me with her manager, I'd surely get the job, but I keep telling her I wouldn't. She decided to get me the interview anyways, so that's the interview I'll be attending today, after my normal work. She isn't just a model; she does a bit of singing, short acting, and dancing. Basically everything a beautiful girl like her could dream of. I won't lie; I've dreamt of it too, especially singing. Ellie always told me I had a beautiful voice. I was also always curious if modeling could be in my future because of my slim body and naturally blemish-less skin. But ever since David gave me my scars, I've always feared of putting that on camera.
Emma tries to reassure me that make-up can hide it, but it won't hide it from me. Not then, not ever. I'll always be scarred from what he did to me, but I'll admit that Ellie was right; once I let Emma in, I felt so much better. Sure, the boys of One Direction know too, but that's quite different than Emma knowing. Now, whenever I think of David, I just think of something in the past. He won't find me here, there's no way. And as for Ellie, I still think of her every day, but it's not painful anymore; I think of her now like the mother I never had, the one that looks out for me.
Daniel Boardman, Emma's boyfriend of a strong two and a half years, isn't around that often, as now that his mother is here in London, he can see Emma almost everyday, but not quite as often. Daniel has become like a brother to me; I really feel for him, as him and his mum are really close.
The alarm goes off again.
"Katie!" Emma whines, shoving her face into her pillow.
"Oh, it's time for you to get up too, you lazy bum!" I retort, feeling that new British side of me pulling up.
"Five more minutes..." she mumbles halfheartedly, trying to go back to sleep yet again.
If you couldn't tell, she's not a morning person. Luckily I'm here, otherwise I'm not sure she's her much done in her day.
"I'm going to go down and make breakfast, if you aren't showered and dressed by then, I'm eating yours," I tell her, tossing the duvet aside and getting out of bed, stretching and opening the curtains, in for nothing else than to annoy her.
"Oi, thanks mum," she mutters, and I can basically hear her roll her eyes.
I smile and laugh, exiting our room and walking out to the kitchen, pulling out a pan and setting it on the stove as I turn on the burner. I grab eggs, cheese, bacon, and milk from the fridge, setting them out on the counter. I've always been a good cook; it just comes naturally. Probably because I don't like eating food that tastes bad, and when I was younger I had to fend for myself for meals. I guess you can look at that as both a good and bad thing.
Grabbing a cheese grater from the cupboard, I begin to shred the cheese, and then the potato for hash browns. I click on the radio in the window just as I hear the shower down the hallway turn on. It's usually like this every morning. We; well, usually I; get up and make breakfast, while Emma showers and dresses. After we eat, I take my shower while she takes care of the dishes, and we finish getting ready together before heading out at the same time. She takes the car to her work, while I just walk two blocks to mine.
I start with the bacon in the pan, watching it cook as I hum along to random songs on the radio while I avoid the burning grease that likes to spatter as I turn the bacon over. Once it's done, I grab a plate and some napkins, soaking of the grease and putting the plate of bacon into the warming oven, just to keep it warm while I cook the rest of the meal. I make two piles in the pan with the hash brown ingredients, letting them slowly cook before flipping them to get each side a delicious golden-brown.
I add those atop the plate of bacon in the warm oven, starting on the last part of the meal; the eggs. Eggs should always be done last with a meal like this, because no one likes cold eggs, and oven warmth just doesn't cut it.
I scramble the eggs, adding in the grated cheese once they're done cooking, while they're still warm enough to melt it. I lightly salt and pepper them, then take out the other plate with the other items for breakfast and set them on the table, adding half the pan's eggs to each of out plates before setting the pan in the sink.
"It's ready," I call, sitting down at the table just as Emma appears with a damp towel wrapped around her newly-showered hair.
"It smells lovely, as always," she smiles, taking the seat across from me, grabbing her share of bacon and shredded potatoes.
"Of course," I say, rolling my eyes playfully.
"So you're just going to pick me up right after work?" I ask, taking a bite of the warm, delicious food.
"Yeah, my manager said he wants to have the interview as soon as possible once I told him how talented you are," she says with a smirk.
"You don't need to edit the truth to my favor, y'know, because I don't want him to set his expectations too high," I mutter, glaring at her playfully.
"I didn't. I told him the truth; though you may not really think it, you are absolutely talented. I don't care what anyone else told you; if they said you couldn't sing, they're rubbish. You're amazing, probably better than One Direction," she says matter-o-factly, with a superior tone, and I know she's trying to boost my confidence.
It's not that I don't have confidence, I just don't have much of it. Not to mention, with One Direction's tour ending, I feel like they'll be able to find me. I highly doubt they'd be able to kidnap me again though unless they basically snuck up on me and drugged me before I could stop it, because I took another self defense class after I got back to London, and every weekend I do a martial arts class from three to six in the evening on Sunday's. In other words, I'm better prepared to fight back, and possibly have the while thing go in my favor. If it were to happen at all, that is. Which I hope it doesn't. I really don't need a repeat of that, especially because of how far I've come out of the shell I created for myself with Emma.
"Well, I guess you'd be mad at me if I didn't thank you, so thanks," I banter playfully, tossing her a smile.
She returns with a grin, flashing her pearly whites in my direction. We finish eating quickly, and I leave my dishes for her to take care of while I head off to shower and get ready for the day. Since I won't be returning to our flat to get a different outfit on for the interview, I'll just have to wear something casually formal.
We're out the door at nine twenty-five sharp, waving goodbye to each other as she peels away in the car as I begin my almost daily trudge to work. The walking does me good though, just like anyone. I get there quickly, before nine thirty, and just get started with my shift.
It's not difficult, it's just like it was at my job in New York. The only difference is that after I take the order I actually prepare it. It's really not that difficult; I went through a bit of training at the beginning, and working here for a year really has me knowing the ropes. I got this job two days after Emma and I first got back.
It may not be much, but it's easy work for easy pay, so I can save up to pay Emma back for all the things she's done for me. I know she doesn't want it, but I new to do it anyway, because I don't want to have to rely solely on her. At least this way I'll get some sort of closure, and she'll reap the benefits, wether she really wants them or not. From her job though, she doesn't really have trouble with money, which is why she has such a large flat. Either way, I'm doing this for both of us, in the long run.
Work goes by so slowly, though it just seems longer because of the anticipation of my interview that will be held in about half and how, as my shift ends in about five minutes, and the drive to Emma's work takes a good twenty minutes.
Thankfully, no last-minute customers bust through the door before my shift ends, so I tell Cassie and Blake, my co-workers, goodbye, before gathering up me stuff and heading outside right as Emma pulls up to a park spot, rolling the window down with a sly grin.
"Get in," she orders with a smile, her sapphire eyes hidden by her Aviators, making her look like a movie star.
My lips turn up in a smile as I open the door and enter the car. She smiles reassuringly at me as she pulls away from the Starbucks, and just like that we're on our way for something that could either make or break my dreams. As we hum along to the random songs on the radio, I roll my window down slightly, even though we're in London. Surprisingly, it's been quite warm through the past week, but that usually means heavy rain in the following weeks. The calm before the storm, right?
Still, we take advantage of the warm weather. Yesterday, we went swimming late at night after work, and the water looked lovely in the darkening night, if you understand what I mean. The lighting made it seem mysteriously beautiful. But anyway, the point is that we love this weather when it comes around.
Our large destination approaches quickly as Emma pulls the car to a stop in it's main parking lot. The place is huge, honestly. I'm glad I have her with me, or I'm sure I'd get lost very quickly. She shows me another reassuring smile, her eyes warm and excited.
"Don't worry, you'll do fine. They can't say no to you, it'd be too big of a loss," she informs me with a confident smirk, pulling her shades off and tucking them into her purse as we exit the car.
She locks it as we approach the massive workplace, my nerves getting to me. It's not that I don't think I'm good enough, it's just that if I were to become famous from this, wouldn't David and the members of One Direction hear about me and be able to find me? Publicity can be a bad thing when there are people you're trying to hide from. I will admit though, doing this would be following my dream, which is definitely something Ellie would've wanted me to do; plus, wouldn't I get security?
A bell chimes happily as we enter, and the second we are in we're immersed in people scurrying about, no doubt late for something, seeing how they hustle around in different directions. As I'm gawking at the mere beauty of some of the people flaunting around, I feel a tug on my arm.
"This way," Emma instructs, pulling me after her.
She leads me down a hallway, at the end of which we enter an elevator. The high number of buttons for levels doesn't surprise me, as the building is huge, on the inside and out, so I knew there'd be quite a few floors. Surely I would've gotten lost on my own, but with Emma as my guide, I can just memorize how we get to the interview room to get out on my own, because I know she has a few errands to attend to while I'm at the interview. We planned it out, and I'll just be taking a bus home because its simple and there should be one by the time my meeting is over.
She leads me out of the half-crowded elevator on level six, guiding me past room after room until we reach one that is on the very side of the building, with a mahogany colored door instead of the simple golden-brown wood used for the rest. Obviously, this is the room for someone official, because it's specially marked. Most of the other doors had small plaques on them labeled with feminine names that for the most part that I didn't recognize, as well as the fact that they were labeled as dressing rooms.
Emma smiles kindly at me.
"Okay, this is the room. Go get 'em," she encourages, before hugging me and turning to leave back the way we came.
I take a deep breath, clearing my throat cautiously so I hopefully don't sound quite so nervous in there. Hesitantly, I lift and hand and knock tentatively on the dark door, holding my breath as I do so, realizing this could be my one shot at making my dreams of being a singer come true.
"Come in," a deep voice answers, though I'm not all that surprised.
Emma did tell me her boss was male, but even with my past not going so well with men, I'm know more than capable of taking care of myself. Opening the door, I step into the room flooded with sunlight from the far wall which is made entirely of glass. I let out the breath I'd been holding, putting on a smile for the man in front of me. He returns it with what I hope is a genuine smile, and gestures for me to take a seat in one of the two seats before him.
I can tell he is older than he appears by the wrinkles that form around his eyes when he smiles, but for the most part, he looks like he could be in his late twenties. I'm always so observant, and sometimes it annoys me. I guess maybe it comes with having a photographic memory. It's kind of like it forces me to judge people by the things I notice, but for the most part I try not to judge people without getting to know them. If you couldn't tell, I'm a fan of the saying 'don't judge a book by its cover', but that doesn't mean I don't have trust issues. I'm just not quick to make an assumption about someone purely based on the sight-based observations I've gathered.
"So Katie, which I'm assuming is your name as that's what Emma always called you when she spoke of you, what brings you to my office?" the man asks, and I realize Emma never actually told me his name.
"Well, as I'm sure Emma already told you, I'm kind of interested in becoming a vocalist," I say, my voice surprisingly strong, thankfully.
"Yes, yes, she did mention something about that. Normally, I go for formality in interviews, but with what I've heard from Emma, I'm solely interested in hearing you sing. I think that would be enough for me to decide to hire you or not. So, would you sing for me?" he asks, a small smile playing on his lips.
I nod slowly, and I'm suddenly interested in what Emma's told him, but I merely pray she only spoke of singing, as I don't really want to model. There are plenty of other girls that are much prettier that could do a better job of it than myself, so I instead to let them do so. Besides, I think my singing talents are much more worth people's time than my modeling ones.
~So here it is! The first chapter! So, as I said before, I'm setting some requirements now, I don't want my readers lazy! :P Okay, so here it is: can I get at least three likes for the next chapter? The update will be almost immediate, because Chapter 2 is already done! :3 Chapter 3 isn't though, so the the update after that one will take a bit. Also, I'd like some feedback! :) Can I get at least two comments (my replies don't count!)? One last thing, could you guys come up with shipping names for Katie and the boys? And any other female character you'd like to see? And finally... next chapter will have a bit of each of the boys' points of view! :D Get excited! I worked hard on it, so I really hope no one thinks it's rubbish! :3 Anyway, I love you as always, and I hope you like Second Chances! <3