𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒. ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ¹

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 01.

━ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁.

𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 to the beach.
Like one does, I'd had dreams about it before, of course— seen multiples upon videos and pictures of other people. Imagined what the sand would feel like between my toes, how the wind would breeze through my hair, the sound of rushing waves. It was a whole world away, as to be from someone who'd been cooped up in the same penthouse apartment for sixteen years. Contemporaries of "The beach" was something I had simply never experienced, and it seemed too much of me to wish for it.

My parents, Daniel and Cecelia Collins were what millennials were accustomed to call "famous". Personally, I'd never gotten it. Maybe I'd never understood because they had never let me understand. They'd done a few movies, whatnot, but they have never let me in on any of it. Emphasize— any of it. I couldn't even tell how "famous" they really were.

    I had never, not once, gotten the chance to see my parents' films. Not even a glimpse. Not even a peek around the corner of the hallway if the tv was on. They kept me from it all, even just watching them on television. I was strictly not "allowed" to watch their interviews, nor see their Red Carpet outfits, or even simply cheer them on from home if they'd win anything valuable at award shows. I'd never sat on the couch and shouted to the screen a filled, "Go mom!" or "He should've won."

I had lived the most private life a sixteen year old girl could ever live.

But, it had been like that since the beginning. I'd like to say that I had gotten used to it all, but not really knowing who your parents are, can take quite the toll on the conscience. They'd leave early and come home late, stay out on weekends, take vacations monthly, all of it. But I had never gone with them.

It was selfish of me to wish my parents payed more attention to their daughter, but I couldn't help but feel so. Ever since I'd been told that my parents were, quote-unquote, famous, or whatever, they've been playing a game of hide and seek— I didn't see them unless they wanted to be seen. They kept me from everything, and everyone. Not once, had I gone shopping with my mom on a Saturday for new sales, and not once, had I played a sport with my dad for fun.

But in honesty, there was very little room for playing sports in the penthouse at the top of the tallest and most expensive building on 5th street. I'd seen everyone else from the window in my room, but no one seen me. Of course I've gone outside, but never with my parents, though never alone. That's as far as I get, into the city and back into my home. I'd never stepped foot outside of New York, and I didn't think I ever would.

    But, despite all of those things, no normal person could guess that I was Danny and Cecile Collins' daughter. If they saw where I lived, maybe. If they saw me on the street by myself, of course not. You'd think that my closet would be ginormous, high-class brands of shoes and purses from left to right, a whole room on it's own, but not at all. Just like my parents had kept me from their life, they had also kept me from the life I could've had.

    Even though I'd never been told for sure, I was utterly sold on the fact that no one in the world even knew my parents had a daughter. Or a kid, in general. I would've seen my face in a magazine by the age of twelve if the world knew. I didn't have a best friend to tell, or simply had friends to introduce to my parents, ever. Homeschooling had refrained me from making connections.

    Ever since I'd been a little girl I'd dreamed of travelling the world, and I thought that's what I'd be doing, vacations, dinners, ceremonies— with famous parents and all.

But I felt like a modern-day Rapunzel.

   
    "𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬," a thin hand landed on my shoulder. "You're blocking the aisle."