Trapped [H.S. MATURE AU]

Prologue.

hello guysss,
im so excited about this new adventure and i just hope you'll like this new story as much as i do.
what i wanted to say is that for every chapter there's gonna be a picture which is gonna be taken from harry during the course of the chapter

other than that, i hope you'll enjoy the reading! please, vote and comment x

Charlene Whelan

Breathe. Bukowski. Ginsberg. Salinger. Kerouac. Breathe.

I had no intention to work today. I had asked Clarissa to change our shift a week before, and she had told me: "yeah, don't worry... you can count on me!" in her thick Alabama accent, she had patted my back and she had smiled in a too reassuring way, which should've made me understand not to trust her too much, after all. She had called me yesterday again, telling me that the producer she had been begging to sing for had finally called her back and she just couldn't tell him no. It's her big shot, after all. I can't blame her. I hadn't found anyone else to change my shift with, with such a little notice.

My intention was to spend the day completely alone. I wanted to shut off from everyone, like every year this exact day of this exact month. I didn't want to be surrounded by people. There's not much I can do about it, I can't lose this job. Not another one. I had forced myself to leave the bed and I had wrapped my body into a pair of black jeans and a burgundy sweater. I hadn't done anything to my hair, or worn any makeup, not that I normally do, but today it is particularly evident my lack of commitment in getting ready. Before leaving my apartment I had put on my beige trusty jacket. I had found it at a thrift shop during my first week in Los Angeles, it was an incredibly big, old men jacket which had ended up by mistake into the women section, and there had been something about that ugly jacket who had pushed me to buy it. I haven't worn anything else ever since.

As soon as I close the door of my apartment behind me, Los Angeles' pungent early morning air hits me in the face. We're in the first days of November and it's not as warm as it used to be and the fact that last night has been raining the whole night doesn't help it. I can still see around the reminiscences of last night's downpour. I've always been extremely sensitive to the cold, my mother used to tell me all the time.

Breathe. Bukowski. Ginsberg. Salinger. Kerouac. Breathe. Go.

The ride with the bus had been extremely long, as usual. I don't live too far from the battered cafe I work at, sometimes I even take a walk until there, when I'm in a rush, usually. With the bus, in the Los Angeles traffic, it takes double of the time.

Before walking in I take a deep breath, I go straight to the changing room, hang on my coat and get my apron. I just want to get it over with as quick as possible, now that I'm here.

"Good morning, Charlene!" Robbie, my boss, yells from his office when he sees me. He's a good man on the fifties, slightly overweight, without so many hairs on his head and a thick pair of glasses that frame his face. I nod at his direction and walk to my first table of the day to get their orders.

"Thought you weren't coming today..." Isadora tells me when I walk back to the counter. She works here as a waitress too.

"Yeah, but then Clarissa called me last night saying she had a very important audition, or whatever..." I shrug my shoulders, letting out a soft chuckle while I try to imitate her tone of voice. Isadora chuckles too, shakes her head to herself and right after a feeble sigh comes out of her lips.

"That's what she says every week..." She adds right after, tearing a weak smile out of me. She's not wrong. She says she's about to get a big deal at least once a week and yet every single week she ends up sleeping with some asshole that is never going to keep the promise he'd made her. She never learns but I can't blame her. She's a dreamer, she wants to see the good in men like them and she's a lot of hope. You have to, if you want to do a job like that. I guess every girl has been like that at some point, past their childhood. Except for me, I couldn't allow myself to dream so big. At any point. Isadora wants to be an actress too and in the meanwhile she works here. Every girl I've met here has had some kind of dream to follow, while I just want to pay college and find a decent job to live a decent life.