Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"Think of the happiest things, it's the same as having wings..." ♫ You can Fly from Disney's Peter Pan.
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Harlow Silver "Mum, I've been to New York without you before, I'm not a baby anymore, I'm seventeen years old, I'm fine."
"Did you pack the pepper spray and safety alarm I got you for the subway and train?"
"Yeah, it's in this crap--bag you gave me," With the rickety, duck-taped Scooby-Doo suitcase clunking up the dusty, dirty apartment stairs with me, I rolled my eyes, "Did I really have to take little cousin rory's busted suitcase? I thought I was gonna get a new bag for Christmas, you know, for work and... school?"
School that I dropped out of. Way to lie, Harlow.
"Harlow, I don't have new bag money. Not for one that would last you longer than two months. You know that. I tried so hard for Christmas this year, the least you could do is be grateful for what you got."
"Yes, mum. Sorry..." I muttered.
The rickety, shaking, shaft elevator to my left dinged and Niko popped out from it, duffel bag in hand and cigarette between his teeth, "I'm alive! Ha-ha! Suck my dick! You owe me ten pound, I told your punk ass the elevator worked."
"Is that Nikolas? You brought him with you?"
I widened my eyes at him, "Gotta go, mum."
"Oh, but Harlow--"
"We're at Cosette's apartment now, she's waiting, I-I have to go."
I heard her sigh, "Well, alright. But... give Bella kisses for me and please, for the love of God, stay out of trouble."
"I will. Call you tomorrow?"
"Okay. I love you."
"Love you too. Bye," I pulled the phone back and hung up, glaring up at Niko, "Nice one, jerkface. You know, if it's your goal to make mum hate you, you're doing a great job."
"She already hates me, might as well milk it!" Niko used his duffel bag as a mechanical bull and danced like a rodeo cowboy all the way down the flickering hallway, "Yee haw! 'Merica, baby! We're comin' Bells!"
"Put out that cigarette. I don't want smoke inside the house, I can't believe you like those disgusting things," I scolded him, reaching into my pocket to pull out two adderall tabs, "You know the rules. No--"
He stood up straight and rolled his eyes at me, "No smokin' except for on the terrace. No cursing, unless Bella's out the room. No stealin' her snacks. And no pickin' fights with Cosette, believe me, I can feel how far your foot is up my ass, dad!"
He glanced down at the pill bottle, "What are you taking?"
"Now, who's foot is up my butt?" I shoved the pills into the broken crack in my suitcase and took several steps forward, knocking on the green apartment door.
