A/N: Hello Wattpad, tis I, the author of this train wreck. This is a story I wrote in around fifth grade, except I've edited it, and I also never finished the story therefore I get to have so much fun with scraping together a finish for it.
Anyway, this is gonna be the first real story I publish on Wattpad, so feel free to leave constructive criticism or correct me on any mistakes I make!
Thoughts are going to be in ✨italics✨
Trigger/Content Warnings:
-swearing
-blood
-abduction
-mentions of gangs and criminal activity
-mentions of alcohol and drinking problems
⚠️beware that these encompass for the entirety of the story, there won't be individual trigger warnings on each chapter, so if anything on this list triggers you please don't read the story!⚠️
"ELANA! ELANA! Wake up, sis, it's almost time for you to leave! You were sleeping all day, mommy's gonna yell at you..." I hear my little brother sniffle a little at the end, clearly worried about me as our mothers wrath is something you never want to reckon with.
"UGH. Ethan, five more minutes. I'll be fine, she can't hurt me since I'm always in the public eye and I make her a fuck ton of money."
"No, not five more minutes, NOW! I don't care if she won't hurt you, she'll still be all mean and rude and-" I begrudgingly get up, knowing that my five-year-old brother, Ethan, doesn't like to prank me, and doesn't have any reason to.
"Ethan. Calm down. I'm getting up," I say, rolling out of my bed and onto the floor. A quick glance at the alarm clock in my room shows me the number 20:00.
"Mom wants you to leave in ten minutes, Ela, huuuuuuurry!" I chuckle at Ethans antics before shooing him out of the room. Before I close the door, I say, "Okay, I need you to lie to mom, say that I was already awake," he opens his mouth to protest, "AND- and- if you were up here for a while trying to wake me then just say that we were talking. I'll get you that cotton candy ice cream you like." He considers the deal before running off, closing the door behind him.
I sigh, shaking my head half-heartedly. Where does he get his energy from? The thought leaves my head when I see the unpacked bag laying on the floor of my room.
"Stop taunting me," I say, scowling at the bag, "Oh really? I'll throw you out the window," I pretend to respond. Grabbing my backpack, I shove in a hoodie, some pants, a few shirts, a hairbrush, my ADHD meds, my computer, and my phone. I then slam the door open, spiteful that I have to keep up with school and knowing that I'll be pulling multiple all-nighters between assignments and acting and whatever other bullshit my mom has planned.
Gods, why can't she just let me go out of stardom and do what I want for a change? I get that I'm only fifteen, but that's also kind of the point.
I'm a mere teenager, maybe I don't know what's best. I'm jobless right now, maybe I should focus on being perfect and getting more roles, I'm only in commercials for film this next week, if I slack off it could be the end of my career, fifty million dollars isn't enough to keep up the lifestyle mom started, and since she has all the money control I should listen to her so that she doesn't cut everything off from me and make me a poor nobody.
On the other hand, I'm a fucking TEENAGER. I shouldn't have to worry about going homeless if I don't do a job that I'm forced to, or something bad happening to my little brother if that happens. Whether I like it or not, if I get cut off, he'll be in the limelight. It's not like he isn't already, but my presence helps mask him a decent amount. I hate to have to make some stupid decision like this, but if my brother can have a normal life then I'll take anything our pathetic excuse of a mom throws at me.
No, she doesn't even deserve to be called a mom. More like egg donor.
I snort out loud at the thought before rushing out of my room, sliding down the ramp located next to the stairs with a small smile on my face. As soon as I reach the bottom, my smile disappears, replaced with the thin straight line of my lips that I possess around my mother- Or- excuse me, my egg donor.
"It was about time you got down here, you lazy bitch. You always keep the pilot waiting when we need to board our plane, it's very unprofessional," she says, slapping me across the face.
"All he ever does is wait around for us. It's a private jet. Why do we have to act like we're on a time crunch? We can always delay the takeoff time, it's not the end of the world if I'm a minute late." I hoist my backpack over my shoulders and walk out the door, not looking at her because if I do after I was so defiant I don't wanna know what would happen. Right before the worker person can take my hand to lead me to the limo, I hear the door open and close from behind me and see my mother step out, a sickly sweet and blatantly fake smile on her face.
"Bye honey, see you in a week!" she says a little too happily.
"You're not coming?" I ask, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. My mother only cares about money, but me going alone definitely won't save her any money whatsoever.
"No, of course not, it's much too costly for me to fly with you."
"Mhm."
"I won't have any of your attitude, young lady. We are civil to each other here."
"Goodbye," I say, gesturing to the servant to take me to the car. She nods and begins to lead me and we walk away from my mother.
"Thanks for getting me out of there," I whisper, sliding her a clip with a thousand dollars. Her eyes widen, but before she can refuse it I hop into the car and order the driver to drive off.
I open the curtain to the built-in bed we have and sit down on it. The mattress creaks from the stress. I tap my fingernails against the bed. Tap-smack. Tap-smack.
~time skip~
I feel the car pull to a stop and I look out the window, disappointed but unsurprised to see the airport in my view. I see my bodyguard, Zeke, outside the car, talking to someone. When he notices the car, he opens the door of the car in a mock bow.
"Milady Elana, your esteemed plane is waiting for you yonder. Please proceed accordingly and don't faceplant into the pavement," Zeke says while smiling.
"That was ONE time, Zeke. One. Single. Time," I say, stepping out of the limo and walking down through the rows of private hangers while Zeke walks beside me. I would say he's escorting me, but fOrTuNaTeLy, I've been here enough times that I don't need an escort.
"Right this way, miss," says a person dressed in the burgundy uniform of our flight crew. Why burgundy, I always wondered. Was it because a classic bright red was too light to cover wine stains, and blood-red would be too suspicious? Or was it just because my mother has a trashy taste in colors?
By the time I'm out of my thoughts, I've boarded the private jet and we're about to take off. I relax, the feeling of my body being forcefully pressed into the seat as we zoom off bringing me a sense of overwhelming comfort.
YOU ARE READING
20:38
Short StoryElana Foster is a child superstar. When her mother, a money-obsessed sack of greed, forces her to go to Los Angeles for a job opportunity, and go alone at that, what happens is beyond the imagination of either of them. And when Elana's brother goes...
