Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Everything Is Changing
Fiona's POV
“Dad, I told you before, I’m not a baby! I could have just got a taxi or something here; I really didn’t see the need for you to pick me up.” I whined as he put the key in the keyhole and let ourselves in, my mother rushing from the living room enclosing me into a hug. I hated this part, the whole loved up thing, the flow of unpredictable questions starting immediately.
“Oh Fiona, I’m so glad your home. How long do you plan on staying?” She asked as he pulled away. My father had retreated into his study, taking my bag and placing it in my old room in the process.
“Only a day, then I’ve got to be off. I have a flight back to America tomorrow night at 3am.” I said as my mother and I went into the living room, I was fearful for what she might ask next.
I was nothing like my mother, she was slightly wild and certainly very loud, I was more like my father, quiet and contemplating. I much rather be left alone to read a book than watch the newest episode of a show that may as well be called “Nothing ever goes right in this town, you may as well kill yourself before you live here.”
“So darling, you’ve got to tell me all about America. What happened while you were there? Make any new friends? Where did you stay? Plus whereabouts in America did you even stay in, what state?” My mother babbled. If you were a random person listening in on the conversation we were having with no prior knowledge you could almost say it was as if I had just had my first day of school.
“Nothing really happened.” Lie. “No new friends either, I kind of just stayed to myself.” Lie. “I stayed in an apartment; it kind of reminded me of Monica’s in ‘Friends.’ Lie again. “I was in Chicago.” ‘Oh look, you actually told the truth for once!’ My mind hissed at me. I gave my mother a shy smile, hoping she wouldn’t think to make me elaborate.
“Oh well, never mind.” She stated simply.
“Mum, I hope you understand why I went to America?” I asked, carefully.
“Well of course I do, sweetie. Heavens knows that the acting business isn’t booming here, I mean the best you could ever get is probably Doctor Who. I understand that you had to go for your career. How did that go then? Any offers.” She explained to me.
“Not really, it’s still pretty hard going in America as well. I need to go to L.A. If ever I were to get a job in acting it’d be there. You know?” I told her.
“Oh I see, yes of course. So you’re going there now?”
“I’m going to Chicago first, then L.A.” I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should tell her about Mikey, she would probably find out sooner or later. Then again my mother was never the one for celebrity gossip magazines and newspapers were highly unlikely to write about some fluffy news about us either. I suppose I should tell her though, I thought as I took a deep breath and prepared myself. “Mum, there’s something I need to tell you.” I started but before I could continue she shouted for my father. Once he was here I proceeded. “There’s this guy that I’m seeing.”
“So I was dragged all the way from my study, to hear about my daughter waddling off with some pimp from America?” My father asked, annoyed that we had interrupted his ‘Countdown’ session.
“I do not waddle! And Mikey isn’t a pimp!” I hissed furiously at him. “He’s my boyfriend and a bloody good one at that! He’s just special…” I found that my British roots would show when I got angry.
“Oh God, don’t tell me he’s retarded or something?” He sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Why would it matter if he was?! He isn’t, but it surely it shouldn’t matter! Anyway when I said he’s special I meant that he’s…famous. He’s in a band…” I challenged him, standing up to make my point clear.
“So you’ve got yourself a hippie then? Great.” My father said his tone obviously sarcastic.
“Dad! He’s not a hippie, he’s a normal guy and I’m in love with him. You’ve got to understand that I am not asking for your permission or acceptance to be with him, I’m just informing you. It doesn’t matter if you hate him because you can’t do anything to stop it.” I announced, standing my ground. I knew if I backed down now they would have a hold on me forever.
“You really love him?” My mother piped up from the sofa.
“Yes, mum, I do. Mikey’s amazing and just basically perfect.” I smiled, calming down at the thought of him.
“So when do we get to meet the boy then?” She asked, a smile spreading across her face, her eyes twinkling. I could see she was defiantly excited about meeting him.
“Not for a while, he’s gone back to America. We could probably make some time when they have their next tour over here. I’m not too sure really, I mean he might fly over here but I just can’t be certain without asking him.” I clarified.
“Well call him up and ask him then!” My father declared, obviously determined with his decision.
“What?” I said, my eyes widened, like I was a deer in a cars headlights.
“Oooh yes! Call him up; I want to hear his voice. I have a knack for knowing what a person is like just by hearing their voice, you know?” My mother cried, excitedly, thinking up excuses just to try to begin to understand who he was.
“He might be busy though…” I trailed off, trying to find a way of getting out of this.
“Too busy for my daughter? Who does this guy think he is?!” He father replied sternly, crossing his arms in disapproval. “Call him up.” He instructed.
I groaned and took my phone out of my pocket. “Okay, just let me tell him what’s going on first.” I said putting my hand over the phone as it rang. After a couple of rings, I was kind of getting worried, Mikey would usually pick up after the third or fourth ring, and it was now way passed that. I was greeted with voicemail, sighing I tried to call him again, hoping he would pick up this time.
This was so unusually of him; he’d always answer his phone no matter what, even if he was in a meeting. I checked my watch; it was 6pm here meaning it was only 1pm in America. The phone rang and rang again, always giving me the pleasant sound of that stupid voicemail woman, by the seventh ring it started to sound as if she were smug. I tired one last time when finally someone answered, but it wasn’t Mikey.
So aren't you guys lucky eh? Or unlucky on how you perceive this story. Right now last time I said the chapter was boring and now it's listed as exciting...well isn't that just false advertising? Got to admit, this one is boring as well and short but in my opinion it's less boring than the last one, right? right?
“Dad, I told you before, I’m not a baby! I could have just got a taxi or something here; I really didn’t see the need for you to pick me up.” I whined as he put the key in the keyhole and let ourselves in, my mother rushing from the living room enclosing me into a hug. I hated this part, the whole loved up thing, the flow of unpredictable questions starting immediately.
“Oh Fiona, I’m so glad your home. How long do you plan on staying?” She asked as he pulled away. My father had retreated into his study, taking my bag and placing it in my old room in the process.
“Only a day, then I’ve got to be off. I have a flight back to America tomorrow night at 3am.” I said as my mother and I went into the living room, I was fearful for what she might ask next.
I was nothing like my mother, she was slightly wild and certainly very loud, I was more like my father, quiet and contemplating. I much rather be left alone to read a book than watch the newest episode of a show that may as well be called “Nothing ever goes right in this town, you may as well kill yourself before you live here.”
“So darling, you’ve got to tell me all about America. What happened while you were there? Make any new friends? Where did you stay? Plus whereabouts in America did you even stay in, what state?” My mother babbled. If you were a random person listening in on the conversation we were having with no prior knowledge you could almost say it was as if I had just had my first day of school.
“Nothing really happened.” Lie. “No new friends either, I kind of just stayed to myself.” Lie. “I stayed in an apartment; it kind of reminded me of Monica’s in ‘Friends.’ Lie again. “I was in Chicago.” ‘Oh look, you actually told the truth for once!’ My mind hissed at me. I gave my mother a shy smile, hoping she wouldn’t think to make me elaborate.
“Oh well, never mind.” She stated simply.
“Mum, I hope you understand why I went to America?” I asked, carefully.
“Well of course I do, sweetie. Heavens knows that the acting business isn’t booming here, I mean the best you could ever get is probably Doctor Who. I understand that you had to go for your career. How did that go then? Any offers.” She explained to me.
“Not really, it’s still pretty hard going in America as well. I need to go to L.A. If ever I were to get a job in acting it’d be there. You know?” I told her.
“Oh I see, yes of course. So you’re going there now?”
“I’m going to Chicago first, then L.A.” I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should tell her about Mikey, she would probably find out sooner or later. Then again my mother was never the one for celebrity gossip magazines and newspapers were highly unlikely to write about some fluffy news about us either. I suppose I should tell her though, I thought as I took a deep breath and prepared myself. “Mum, there’s something I need to tell you.” I started but before I could continue she shouted for my father. Once he was here I proceeded. “There’s this guy that I’m seeing.”
“So I was dragged all the way from my study, to hear about my daughter waddling off with some pimp from America?” My father asked, annoyed that we had interrupted his ‘Countdown’ session.
“I do not waddle! And Mikey isn’t a pimp!” I hissed furiously at him. “He’s my boyfriend and a bloody good one at that! He’s just special…” I found that my British roots would show when I got angry.
“Oh God, don’t tell me he’s retarded or something?” He sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Why would it matter if he was?! He isn’t, but it surely it shouldn’t matter! Anyway when I said he’s special I meant that he’s…famous. He’s in a band…” I challenged him, standing up to make my point clear.
“So you’ve got yourself a hippie then? Great.” My father said his tone obviously sarcastic.
“Dad! He’s not a hippie, he’s a normal guy and I’m in love with him. You’ve got to understand that I am not asking for your permission or acceptance to be with him, I’m just informing you. It doesn’t matter if you hate him because you can’t do anything to stop it.” I announced, standing my ground. I knew if I backed down now they would have a hold on me forever.
“You really love him?” My mother piped up from the sofa.
“Yes, mum, I do. Mikey’s amazing and just basically perfect.” I smiled, calming down at the thought of him.
“So when do we get to meet the boy then?” She asked, a smile spreading across her face, her eyes twinkling. I could see she was defiantly excited about meeting him.
“Not for a while, he’s gone back to America. We could probably make some time when they have their next tour over here. I’m not too sure really, I mean he might fly over here but I just can’t be certain without asking him.” I clarified.
“Well call him up and ask him then!” My father declared, obviously determined with his decision.
“What?” I said, my eyes widened, like I was a deer in a cars headlights.
“Oooh yes! Call him up; I want to hear his voice. I have a knack for knowing what a person is like just by hearing their voice, you know?” My mother cried, excitedly, thinking up excuses just to try to begin to understand who he was.
“He might be busy though…” I trailed off, trying to find a way of getting out of this.
“Too busy for my daughter? Who does this guy think he is?!” He father replied sternly, crossing his arms in disapproval. “Call him up.” He instructed.
I groaned and took my phone out of my pocket. “Okay, just let me tell him what’s going on first.” I said putting my hand over the phone as it rang. After a couple of rings, I was kind of getting worried, Mikey would usually pick up after the third or fourth ring, and it was now way passed that. I was greeted with voicemail, sighing I tried to call him again, hoping he would pick up this time.
This was so unusually of him; he’d always answer his phone no matter what, even if he was in a meeting. I checked my watch; it was 6pm here meaning it was only 1pm in America. The phone rang and rang again, always giving me the pleasant sound of that stupid voicemail woman, by the seventh ring it started to sound as if she were smug. I tired one last time when finally someone answered, but it wasn’t Mikey.
So aren't you guys lucky eh? Or unlucky on how you perceive this story. Right now last time I said the chapter was boring and now it's listed as exciting...well isn't that just false advertising? Got to admit, this one is boring as well and short but in my opinion it's less boring than the last one, right? right?
Sign up to rate and review this story