Hey yall!! I'm back with another little imagine. Or should i say big imagine cause this one is gonna be a series since originally i was gonna turn it into a book but decided against it.
So yea i'll be uploading this one by parts.
Anyways, on to it!
Layla POV
1: Victory '84
November, 1984.
I was awoken by the sound of my father shouting my name from my door frame. "What?" I groggily asked, pulling my covers from over my legs. "Happy birthday, Layla!" He says, trudging into my bedroom with a cake in his hands. An involuntary smile spreads itself across my face. "Happy 17th birthday, My beautiful daughter." He says, and I sit up in my bed. "Daddy, my birthday was 2 months ago.." I chuckle at my dads enthusiasm. It was November 18th, and My actual birthday is September 18th , hence my confusion as to why my dad was acting as if today was the special day.
"Yes, I'm aware but on your actual birthday I was in a completely different country, I wanted to do something special now." I smile sadly at the memory and the thought of me being alone in this mansion on my 17th birthday. I don't have friends, didn't have family, besides my father that is. He's an extremely famous producer who works with all the biggest names in music. He had to travel to Moscow and taking me wasn't much of an option, since he'd be busy and he couldn't look after me like a father could. Leaving me in Moscow, not looked after would be an awful decision on his part and I completely respect that. But it surely wasn't one for the books. It was one of the experiences that made me wish I had siblings or maybe even a mother. Spending a birthday with maids and yard-workers wasn't my definition of fun, especially when all the workers treat me like an untouchable. Or as if it's illegal to even speak to me.
One of the maids, Ms. Jane acts like she wants to speak to me, but every time I try to, she stares at me. She's stunning, she has beautiful green eyes, like my own and long shiny blonde hair. She should be a model, not a maid. I see her talk with my father, and he seems to despise her, and her the same. Which makes me sometimes wonder why she still works here.
"Then what did you have in mind?" I ask, reverting my attention back to my dad. A wide smile spreads across his face. "I know how much you love the Jackson's...so I got you tickets to one of their shows with the Victory Tour! How's that sound?" He excitedly says, pulling backstage passes and tickets out his pocket, and waving them around my face. I squeal and jump out of my bed. "What the hell, Dad you got tickets to a Jackson's concert?" I grab the tickets and passes from his grasp. "I sure did. Get dressed, you have a long day and night ahead of you." My dad says, grabbing the passes out my hand and strutting out my bedroom, closing the double doors behind him. I fall back on my bed, and glance over at the Michael Jackson picture I have on my dresser. I wasn't a HUGE fan, but I adored him. He was very attractive, but seemed like a very sweet, soft spoken person. But, I didn't see him in a romantic light. I just got out of a relationship. And things ended horribly, I don't believe that love is real anymore, and I can't even see anyone in a way other than platonic.
I glanced over at my alarm clock and the time read, 11:49am.
"Guess I should get out of bed now."
*****
I bounce down the grand staircase. Dad and Ms. Jane seem to be arguing...again.
I hide behind one of the pillars, and eavesdrop on their conversation. "Would you stop being selfish? I think it's time to tell her. She's 18 years old, Darryl." Ms. Jane says, annoyance thick in her tone. "She's 17, Janelle." My Dad says, and I instantly realize they're talking about me. Tell me what? "Oh I'm sorry, I'm not even allowed to talk to her!" Jane whisper-yells through clenched teeth. "Well, that's a you problem. You're the one who ruined every tie to this little family you had. You're lucky I even still allow your ass to live on my grounds, and have a decent paying job." Dad sneers. Jane scoffs, "Well, thank you. Daddy." Jane narrows her eyes.
