Meet Allura the UNLUCKY. Meet Brendon the HOTTIE. Now go meet my STORY.
“Please do not call me that.”
“But why not?”
“It’s a play on words that I cannot stand,” my foot tapped against the leg of the Mahogany table quickly.
A roll of the eyes, and I knew Craig was not a keeper. Now I just needed a way to get rid of him. I mean, he wasn’t anything special looks wise, either. Five foot four, blonde hair, blue eyes, pale. That about summed him up. He was at least three inches shorter than me, so his height might not be exactly accurate, but it was close enough.
“So Allura…” I could tell he just so wanted to say it again. “Tell me about yourself.”
Ugh. The hated family discussion that hopeless guys were hopelessly known for.
“I’m eighteen. My parents were both serial killers convicted of murder when I was six. My brother’s on Heroine and is currently in a half way house in New York. Oh, and did I mention I had to clear this date with my Parole officer?” I fixed an expression on my face that would have made Ashley Simpson’s face look smart. Well, okay so that would have required a miracle and lots more Plastic surgery, but she was well on her way.
Craig I-can’t-remember-his-last-name looked shocked. He just sat there for a moment, staring at me like I was about to laugh and say it was a joke. Well, I’d just have to push him a little farther, wouldn’t I?
“And I can’t stay much longer, my son Brandon’s waiting for me at home,” I added, making my face have a motherly cast to it. Brandon was actually my older brother, currently not in a half way house in New York, but right here in New Albany working his ass off as a law student at U of L.
“Err. Well I wouldn’t want to keep you from-Brandon,” he seemed to choke on that last word. He got up, nearly tripping, and then seemed to bound to the front door of his apartment. I knew what he’d wanted when he invited me over here, but I also knew he wasn’t getting it.
Standing up, I positively beamed at the man. Then I walked over to the door and stopped. “Thanks for a wonderful night,” I giggled, leaning over and giving him a kiss. I could totally feel him stiffen as I leaned away and walked out the door. I heard a mumbled bye from behind me, right as the door slammed as soon as my butt cleared the doorway.
My name is Allura Donovan. No, my Parents were not serial killers. The only thing they may have done was gotten a parking ticket or something. They actually live in Ohio. My Dad was a Lawyer, and my Mom was an Actress. Needless to say they were not short on money. I got my mom’s looks, but not her slim and graceful beauty. I’m built more like my Dad, solid like I do Karate or something to give my muscles just a slight amount of toning. From my mom I got my dark brown hair, which was currently streaked through with red. My eyes are like my mom’s, too. I have silvery eyes that almost seem to sparkle when the light hits them right. Oh, and I really am eighteen.
Currently I work for Derby Dinner Playhouse, an amateur actor who gets the crappy roles. And no, I don’t have a Parole officer. In fact the only Enforcer of the Law I know is Darren Brown, my brother’s best friend.
I walked down from Craig’s house and got in my car, a black Mustang GT. It was a birthday present from the ‘rents when I turned seventeen. I love it, and I know it probably would it thank me for the milage I put on it, had it a voice. I go down about twelve times a year to see Mom and Dad, sometimes taking twenty-three year old Brandon with me.
Tonight I hooked my IPod into the system and put on Panic! At the Disco. They were my all time favorite band. And man was Brendon Urie ever so hot. Singing along to I Write Sins Not Tragedies, I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. It was nine o clock and I so needed Arby’s right about now. Craig had ordered some weirdo food that I couldn’t even pronounce. I think it was Fillet of Frog or something.
Pulling into line, I patiently waited until I was up to the menu. “I’ll have two Arby Melts and a Curly fry. Oh and a Coke,” I called to the inanimate object. The staticy voice gave me a total and with my right hand I fished it out of the console. When I came around the side of the building I slapped the bill into the lady’s hand, realizing too late it was a hundred. “Whoops,” I laughed, as she looked at the bill in dismay. I bet she thought it was a counterfeit. Quickly I switched it with a twenty, and the hundred I stuffed into the pocket of my dark jeans. Of course, at Nine pm in October, everything looks dark.
The woman handed me my food and my change, so off I went. It wasn’t very hard for me to eat and drive, as long as I didn’t try to do anything else. The food was gone in a matter of three or four minutes. It was a twenty minute drive home across the bridge and into a rich part of Louisville where I lived in a big apartment. When I got there I threw my keys onto the table by the door and took off my jacket. Another date that was pointless.
I’m Alluring Allura, the girl who can’t seem to find a decent guy. Let’s see…I’ve had three boyfriends. The first was just after me for some money. The second was a Lunatic. Seriously. The third was a man who saw the dead. No, his name was not Shaun. So obviously I might as well go join a Buddhist Temple on the side of Mount Everest and train little rats to go find Avalanche victims as I sit in my room and write calligraphy.
There was a message on my phone. Gag me. It was probably my brother, calling to see if I’d found a boyfriend yet. Unlike me, he has wonderful luck with girls. Lucky jerk.
I pressed the play button and sat down on the couch to listen as my big Australian shepherd dog Malikai tumbled into the room. He jumped onto the couch and started panting in my ear, obviously showing his happiness that I was home.
“Hey, Allura?” the voice wasn’t my brother, it was my boss. “We have a band here filming a music video tomorrow. I don’t have my chart in front of me, so I don’t know what it was. Anyway, they want some of our actors to fill in for some of the people in the video. I’d much appreciate it if you came out tomorrow. Nine o clock sharp.”
Appreciate it if I came out? Why didn’t she just say get your ass out there or I was as good as fired? It took me awhile to be able to translate Gwen talk into real speech. Rolling my eyes I looked at the clock. It was now nine forty five. Might as well go to bed so I would be alive in the morning.
“Come on Malikai,” I huffed to the dog. I would go on and take him outside, and then go to bed. The apartment building was one of the few that let you have pets, and you had to pay an extra two hundred dollars a month, so not many of the tenants had animals. I was the only one with four pets: a dog, a cat, and two rats. Amazingly they all got along pretty well. Speaking of which, my feline friend Tippy was probably graciously keeping my bed warm. I think he’s more cow than cat.
After Malikai had down his business, I took him back upstairs and unclipped his leash. Predictably he followed me into the bedroom and hogged the best pillows. Sure enough, Tippy was lying on a pillow he had dubbed his over a year ago.
I laid there, listening to Malikai snore and Tippy purr. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Oh My GOD! WHAT TIME WAS IT?!
Launching pillows everywhere, I turned to look at the clock. EIGHT IN THE MORNING?! It took me forty minutes just to get to work! AHHH!
Screeching, I jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom, throwing off my t shirt in the process. My jeans from the day before were lost somewhere in the bathroom as I nearly fell into the shower and turned it on. The cold water jolted me awake and I cursed myself so many times for not letting it warm up first. As it turned out, I couldn’t wait, so I just scrubbed my hair with the cold water pouring on me. If there’s one thing I hate about this apartment, it’s the water. It takes at least five minutes for the water to get above forty degrees. Shivering, I jumped out of the shower and grabbed the cream colored towel that was hanging from the rack. Then I started drying my hair as I walked to my room and to the rats’ cage, dripping water everywhere. My little rodent buddies were happily spinning away in their wheel. The brown and white one, Alice, turned and watched as I poured their food into their purple dish. The other one, Mercy, just kept spinning, managing to slap Alice with her tail. I snorted and put their food dish on the second floor of their four story cage. After closing it quickly, I went back to the bathroom with Malikai in tow.
In front of the mirror I ran a brush through my soaking hair and then just pulled it all back into a wet ponytail at the base of my neck. I’d fix it later. Maybe. Or maybe I could weasel out of being in whatever they were doing. It was probably some rich chick (not as rich as me) wanting to make it somewhere in life. Ha. Right.
I brushed my teeth and then walked to my room. There I found some clothes, even though I didn’t look to see beyond that they were a t shirt and jeans. After pulling them on I went back to the bathroom to decide between Gel and Solid deodorant.
“Will not be late….please don’t let Gwen fire me….” My foot itched to floor the gas pedal, but I steadily kept the Mustang at fifty five. It was eight fifty-six. I was just getting the same stupid RV store I passed every time I went to work. I was hungry. I so wished I had some time to stop somewhere. Hell, I’d settle for McDonalds.
I pulled my car into a parking place beside Melissa’s green Taurus. It was five past nine. Shit! Getting out, I managed not to hit her car with my door and rushed inside.
Wow. The place they were doing it in looked completely different. I let myself in and was amazed. They weren’t doing it on the stage, but in another room that was empty. It looked like a church. I saw people rushing around, and then I saw a couple of the other actors. They were all sitting on some bleachers behind most of the equipment, watching the proceedings dully. Melissa saw me and waved me over, and a few of the others smiled as well.
“Hey Rory,” called Henry, making room for me beside him and Jack. Both of them were gay, and were really the best friends a girl could have. A lot of my friends called me by my middle name, Rory. My parents had too much imagination.
“So what’s going on?” I asked, gesturing at the crew doing their thing.
“Music Video. They didn’t want the stage, so we had to clear this storage room out so they could use it,” replied Jack in his quiet voice. His brown hair flopped over his eyes, making him look like a puppy.
“I’m surprised you weren’t here earlier,” remarked Melissa, “Since you love this band so much.”
Narrowing my eyes, I asked her, “Who is it?”
“Panic at the Disco,” chorused Jack and Henry together.
“No shit?” I asked, smiling. “What song?”
“I Write Sins not Tragedies. They’re doing a remake,” said Henry.
“Sweet!” I exclaimed. It was then that I noticed the shirt I was wearing. It was Fall Out Boy. Well, that would make a good impression.