[3] British Invasion ► Marvel Social Media

three. carla

three. carla

Carla Vaughan was always more of an agent than a mother when it came to her daughter. She pushed her to her limits, trained her and taught her, booked her lead roles and fought with any critic that dared proclaimed her daughter the weakest link of the show. Charlotte liked to think about the last as her mother instinct kicking in to protect her from insults, though the truth laid in Carla not believing her prodigy was able to perform in any way other than extraordinarily. She was her tutor, after all.

The woman was very strict, adamant on her daughter staying on stage and not stepping a toe in the shark waters that was Hollywood - which was something Charlotte could convince herself came from her maternal instinct to protect her from sexism and objectifying - so Charlotte secretly auditioned for the role she landed, under the guise of going on a trip to California with Tom and their father because they haven't seen the man in a long time due to his filming schedule.

So it was safe to say Charlotte wasn't very sure how to give her mother the news.

She hoped she would be happy for her, as she did get a job in one of the most expected movies of the decade, and in a franchise where she could have a stable re-ocurring role, and it signed quite the check, and it was something she was happy and excited about, something she wanted to do. But it was her mother, and despite all the things she might have had to say against Charlotte accepting the role, the girl knew she had no other choice but to take it.

So Charlotte paced around the living room, wringing her wrists, sure that their expensive carpet was already worn down in the line she had walked across it in. She was waiting for her mother to come back, or up the stairs, as she was checking out the progress of the set design for their latest show. The last rehearsal for the show was tomorrow, and the show would be preformed once every evening for the following week.

It wasn't a critically acclaimed theatre nor did it get any attention from the media, aside from when some tabloid journalists would come see the play to be able to write condescending reviews of her mother's hard work.

"Once promising young star on the rise to the throne of the theatre world Carla Vaughan's talent withered away during her three pregnancies, despite being active on stage even during those dark periods of career, so nowadays, since there is no role of an extra for her to fill, she has confined herself to the theatre in which she preformed her first play with her ex-husband, Charles Vaughan, Hollywood star famous for roles such as dr. John Watson, which he will have reprised three times alongside Robert Downey Jr. come 2020, and the young Albus Dumbledore in the 2018 sequel to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, whose last name she kept in the hopes of raking in more attention to herself and said theatre, which she had refurnished into a drama school and amateur theatre for her to pass on her knowledge with, as well as a way to boost the confidence of the two out of three of her children with being applauded for their lack of talent, though the youngest Vaughan must be excluded from such a praise, as he is apparently too busy being the weak lead vocals in another typical, One Direction-esque boy band to follow the non-existent theatrical legacy of his mother."

Carla burst into the room, reading from the newspaper she held in front of her eyes. She kicked the door shut with her heel and walked into the living room to dramatically fall into the sofa, all the while still reading out loud. Charlotte was surprised by her entrance but quickly reconciled and tried to collect the words her mother was spewing with enough hate to match the writer's apparent distaste for her recent work.

As the words flowed, the girl frowned deeper and deeper; her mother's career was never affected by her kids, and she was far from lacking talent, and she kept Charlotte's father's last name because her maiden name was so ill-suited not even her own kids were familiar with it. And when the article jumped to her kids as well, Charlotte found the report rather cynical. Sure, they weren't the best, but they were trying; it's called amateur theatre for a reason.

Besides, Hamlet used to be the critics' favourite, and now she was going to do a movie, and no one in their right mind could say Tom's voice wasn't impressive, so she concluded the author's mean words about her brother's musical ability must stem from his general prejudice about teenage boys singing. With all those boy bands and men bands, as well as solo performers, it seemed like some backwards-minded people still couldn't wrap their heads around male singers.

It was the twentieth century, for the love of God, and there were male musicians even in the Renaissance. Charlotte scoffed, falling backwards onto the couch from her position on one of its armrests, the one closer to her mother.

When the woman was finally done reading, she let her arm drop dramatically - because that's the only way Carla Vaughan did things - before raising it and using the newspaper as a fan.

"Not a single period until the end, and he sounds as pissed as a woman who's on it. If he likes commas so much, I can always put him into one." she retorted, and Charlotte laughed, for a moment forgetting the news she had for her mother.

For a moment, she had been worried she'd have to lie a day longer, hide the news from her mother, as the report seemed to have angered her, but what she still hadn't learned from her mother was how to brush it all off. She was in the acting business for twenty-five years, of course she knew when to push aside the mean comments and when to accept constructive criticism. But this was a wanna-be critic hoping to gain attention by insulting one of the most famous names of theatre acting; she wouldn't pay him any more attention than reading his article on her work, though his opinion was dismissed instantly.

Charlotte, however, took every word to heart, and wore it on her sleeve. That was one of the reasons her mother thought she wouldn't survive in Hollywood, and thus kept her as far away from it as possible, given that her father was someone who built his career in it. The girl bit her lip, turning her head to look at her mother, who had stood up and headed for her room, dropping the newspaper in the bin on her way.

"I need to tell you something. But you have to promise not to be mad." Charlotte finally spoke, firmly shutting her eyes.

"What is it, darling?" Carla answered and asked from her room, changing into something more comfortable yet still as stunning; she wasn't the person to wear hoodies and tracksuits, rather preferring something that made her figure obvious.

"You won't be mad?" the girl on the couch picked on her cuticles.

"I can't tell you what my reaction will be when you won't tell me what I will be reacting to." she walked out of her room, wearing black thighs and a purple cotton shirt, tying her dark hair into a pony tail.

Charlotte took a deep breath, deciding to apply the band-aid rule. So she simply spat out:

"I got a role in a movie."

Before covering her mouth with her hand.

[A/N]

This is my going away present for y'all cause I'm going on a trip and there won't be any internet but I will try to write as much as I can, and when I get back there should be updates because I've had a lot of inspiration for this story recently.

Also, a reminder that chapter two was rewritten so if you read it before the rewrite I suggest you read it again cause I've added some things.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!