Rosalind was popular, perfect. The girl every parent wanted their little daughter to be, to become. Then she went rogue, she left her perfection and chased her dream.
In her new flat in London she receives a letter telling her to photograph South Bank at a specific time and date. When she takes a photo of a scene on Southbank there is a boy in the photo, he is smiling right at her it seems and she can't help but want to find out who he is. Are they going round in circles trying to find each other?


3. Chapter Two

C h a p t e r  T w o

The Tale Begins


Earlier that morning the room had been filled with an amber glow and the smell of burning wax and cream cake. Packages wrapped in paper for unholy prices and cards made of antiques dating to every era. Not to mention the price of every present that lay on the duvet of my bed. I leant back on the mahogany header of my four poster bed, grabbing a thick burgundy curtain and playing with the strategically placed frills of gold thread.

"Happy eighteenth birthday, my dear." My father's voice had whispered after the enchanting song of 'Happy Birthday' by a paid choir had been sung. The choir quickly vacated the premises, which gladdened me and also did not. I wished to thank them for taking up their time singing such a beautiful version of Happy Birthday to me.

It was Victoria's turn to congratulate me, "Oh, my little Rosalind," tears had begun forming in her eyes and running down her cheeks. "You were so young and small and look at you know. All grown up!"

My father sighed and rolled his eyes, to him, Victoria was payed help and all of this sentimental business that was currently occurring was ungodly. Tears, however, had started forming in my eyes as well.

I hugged my father first, "Thank you father. The gifts were beautiful and I am so glad you could be here to celebrate."

​He smiled somewhat smugly but there was a glimmer of pride in their that he hadn't forgotten or rescheduled my birthday or made any of the mistakes he had done previously. "Eighteenth time lucky, I guess, my darling Rosalind."

I nodded, squeezing the duvet, "And Victoria. Thank you."

They left me alone after that, to watch the twilight sky brighten, but more importantly to dress myself for school. I had received a stunning dress for an extravagant party later that night. I had also received a pristine and new school uniform, the collar still stiff and the small silver button's on my shirt now were silver with a wring of ivory in the middle that all lead up to a beautiful green emerald that lay encased in the levels of beautiful materials.

A brand new wrist clock fixed to my left hand and a simple yet stylish necklace wrapped around my neck. As I walked down stairs, I drew my hair to one side, letting the golden ribbon's of my hair fall to one side. I knew my father thought my hair looked better like this.

"What's for breakfast?" I asked my father who sat with a newspaper and read it intently.  He folded it and placed it on the table next to him. 

He opened his mouth to answer as I looked to my watch, quarter to eight. "Never mind, we'll have a sit down meal for dinner, tonight. I will be late if I don't go now."

​My father nodded as I grabbed a piece of buttered toast and headed out of the door as diligently as I saw possible.


Every student at Andrew's School for the Elite greeted me and congratulated me as I walked down the corridor's of the school. I had to arrive at locker 100 in Block A. My friends, Mariana and Violet-Ivy greeted me with a laugh and I continued my trip to locker 100 with them.

"Last of us to turn eighteen; how does it feel, sunshine?" Ivy giggled raising an eyebrow while attempting to crush my cheek between  her finger's and ruby red nails.

I freed myself and opened my locker, checking my make up and hair momentarily before assessing that I looked fine. The red mark from where Ivy had pinched me had already faded. I placed the bag I had received earlier that morning in my locker and removed an expensive camera.

Ivy closed locker 99 and Mariana closed locker 101.

"The camera's is beautiful." Mariana remarked.

I nodded and smiled, "Birthday selfie?" I asked as both of my friends starting pouting between giggles.


I followed my normal routine, arriving home I greeted Victoria went up to my room and gazed at the papers on my desk. The extravagant menu had been beautifully decorated and every piece of food sounded positively mouth watering. Then their were three more sheet's, one explaining my father would not return home tonight.

I'm awfully sorry my dear.

His words stung my eyes, his excuses were demon's ripping at my soul.

I would have called, but I didn't want to disturb you at school.

Now, what about now? I am not in school!

​Also, my phone is currently being used my myself for a very important business conference...

There was always something that meant be couldn't apologise more directly.

About your career, your future. I didn't want to tell you this morning, I was going to tell you tonight...

My career? It's funny you mention that father, as was I. Rage had begun wheeling up inside me.

I found an agent, she thinks your positively splendid.

An agent? Confusion and revelation poured over me like a bucket of water and ice. Fame, modelling, acting, singing, dancing. My father's dream for me. Gasoline had been added to my internal inferno of fire.

I love you, Rosalind. Happy Birthday.

Not single mention of the word 'sorry' not a single syllable.


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