David Bowie: Kid Sister

David Bowie: Kid Sister

Imagine living with your older brother, David Bowie, but running away when he chooses drugs over you:

Being David Bowie's younger sister is hard enough, but having to watch him destroy his life is near impossible.

He and I have quite the age difference, he's currently 27, whilst I am only 15, but he has taken on the role of both father and big brother. When he first took me in I was 11 and he was only 23, he had wanted to stop by and surprise us with a visit after being so busy with his latest album.

It's a long story how he ended up my legal guardian, but let's just say he walked in on our mother berating me, and witnessed her slapping me across the cheek. Needless to say, he was not pleased in the slightest and demanded a reason be given as to why I was slapped. Our mother gave no answer, instead only glaring at me with an even darker hatred than before.

She took a step towards me and I don't know what came over me, but I sprinted around her and into David, crying my eyes out as I hid behind him. I remember my small hands grasping the material of his sleeves, just wanting some feeling of love and acceptance. He seemed stunned, taking a few seconds to react to this; leaning down, he handed me his keys, telling me in a soft voice to go wait in his car. I nodded and went to open the front door when our mother decided to intervene.

"Not another step young lady." I froze in place, this was the harsh tone she used when I knew I was going to be punished and tormented for the rest of the week. Usually she doesn't do more than slap me, but with tone she doesn't hesitate to bring out the belt. I was so close to the door, but the fear that burned in my chest made me want to throw up. I wanted to get away, but what would happen to me if I took another step?

No one made any move, but I knew that this might be my only chance. Taking another step I hesitantly looked over my shoulder towards my mother. She was furious, I could almost say for certain that there was a red gleam in her eyes. She starts walking towards me, but before she can reach me, David moves between us.

"Get out of the way, David." Her tone is sharp, I'm surprised when David makes no movement in response, simply settling a glare upon her.

"She's coming with me and that is final." His sentence is almost growled out, and I can tell mother is just as taken aback as I am, stepping back slightly as her facial expression morphs into one of shock. Not another word is spoken as David turns, grabbing my shoulder as he walks us out of the front door and to his car.

The ride is a blur, I can't find myself focusing on anything other than the bleary stereo and the gray skies. I only come back to reality when he pulls up in-front of a fancy hotel, handing his keys to the valet before helping me out of the car. I glanced around in surprise, he's taken us to the nice side of town, everyone is wearing their nice clothes that I would usually only wear on Sunday for church. David releases a quiet giggle at seeing my look of awe, patting my shoulder as he leads me into the hotel.

I stay silent through the process, making sure to stay directly on David's side as he gets the room key and walks us into the elevator. David leans back against the wall and watches the numbers, but I take this time to observe him; after all, I haven't seen him in quite a while. He's grown his hair out a bit, longer than the last time I saw him, and his face looked almost angry even though it was neutral. Walking to our room he sits me down on the bed, sitting himself next to me with his hands folded in his lap; he seems hesitant, but I know why.

"Just ask me already." My voice is quiet, I cast my gaze downwards as I hear David swallow heavily.

"How long has she been treating you like that?" His question is spoken carefully, almost as though worried that I might break if he didn't pick every word precisely. I feel a small smile trying to form, it's odd, having someone be so gentle with me, especially after the years I've spent with my mother.

"... Ever since dad died." I didn't want to tell him why, mainly because our father's death hurt him a lot as well, but he was already out of the house when that happened; not having to deal with our mother during the aftermath. I don't blame him, in fact, I never wanted him to know, I hate being such a burden.

"Well, no one will ever hurt you again. I promise." His tone is a stark contrast to earlier, being stern and certain; not harsh, but strong and confident. I look to the side, meeting his gaze before pushing forward and hugging him tightly. His body goes rigid, clearly being surprised, but slowly steadying as he envelopes my weak form with his arms.

_______

Ever since that day, I lived with my brother, traveled with him, helped him with his music, etc. We shared a life in a way, but he always made sure that my education came first, hiring me private tutors everywhere we went. I had so much fun, being raised by him was much different than being raised by our mother. David was kind and gentle, only really getting stern when I blatantly went against our agreed upon rules; such as that one time I snuck out of our hotel and went backstage to one of his concerts.

Oh, he was pissed, we got into a bit of a row before stomping off in opposite directions. We avoided each other for the rest of the night and the following day, only talking during a midnight snack run-in. I apologized, I knew it was dangerous to sneak out to a concert where I might be recognized and swarmed by fans. I also told him my reasoning, having not seen him for more than a couple of minutes over the last few months due to the concerts and rehearsals, exclaiming that I just wanted to see him.

David also apologized for yelling at me, he hates yelling and felt really bad, to which I made sure he knew it was alright. He promised to try and spend more time with me, taking time out of the next day for us to go get lunch and ice cream.

We had a lot of fun, but we ended the night running away from a crowd of fans. One of them had managed to grab his sleeves, resulting in him losing his coat. I laughed at first until we finally got away. I observed his hunched over body as we heaved for breath, he was much skinnier than I thought. I hadn't really been paying attention, but I can tell when someone is underweight, and he kind of reminded me of a skeleton.

That was when I started to pay more attention to him, noticing how he'd been more withdrawn recently, spending most of his time reading or in his room. I noticed that he often sniffled, I thought he had a cold, but something about it struck me as odd. I continued watching over him for the next year or so, noticing that he never lost the sniffles for long, they would usually return after a prolonged trip to the bathroom. He also stopped eating a lot, he used to love my occasional cooking and our random jaunts to restaurants, but that all suddenly stopped.

I finally said 'fuck his privacy', searching through his bags after he'd gone to sleep. I found a bag full of white powder, and I'm no idiot, this isn't fucking flour, it's cocaine. All the signs I've noticed now make sense, but that really does fuck all for me. What can I do now? I can't tell him I know, cause then he'll ask how I know. I just need to make sure he doesn't kill himself by accident.

_______

I softly knocked on David's door. He has an interview soon, yet he hasn't left his room all day. I'm really worried about him.

"What do you want!" His voice is rough and sharp, I jump slightly. He's recently taken to shouting at me whenever I do anything, and it scares the living daylights out of me; I know I shouldn't be scared of him, but it reminds me of mom. Anytime she yelled, I knew the day had gone from bad to worse.

"David... You have an interview soon, your people said it was in 15 minutes and that you should be heading out soon." My voice is higher in pitch, that only happens when I'm dreadfully aware of my surroundings. The places we stay in are nice still, but that homey vibe that used to accompany David has long gone.

The door creaks open, the room is dark, like the curtains have been pulled and all the lights smothered. His face is pale, sickly shining in the sterile lighting of the hall. The most haunting look is his eyes, they are so empty, he just stares at me with this dull look as though not even seeing me. David has been like this for a few weeks now, gradually refusing to acknowledge my presence to the point of convincing me I might not actually exist.

It hurts a lot, knowing the person you love and look up to sees you as nothing, but I still push forward.

He pushes the door open wider and walks past me, already dressed up in his suit and dragging along a cane.

"David... David!" He walked into the living room before turning to me, his eyes seemingly set ablaze.

"What." His tone is sharp with agitation, the short response making me feel uncomfortable.

"I... I was wondering...if-" My hesitant words get cut off as David glares at me.

"Hurry up and say it already!" He raises his voice, I can tell he's holding back from shouting at me.

"I just... David, I know." I don't know how else to word it, I just know that I need to confront him on his drug abuse.

"You know? Know what?" He actually seems generally confused, oh how his senses have been dulled.

"I know... I know about the drugs." The last half of my sentence is whispered, but his immediate rigidity alerts me that he heard me loud and clear. I finally look up to his face, and somehow he's become even paler; so gaunt I fear he may faint.

"H-How do you know about that?" For the first time in a while he sounds vulnerable, maybe even a little scared. There's no going back now, I have to tell him the truth and hope he sees reason.

"I looked through your bag a while ago and found it, please don't be mad!" There was a lilt in my voice, but it wasn't pleasant to hear, it more emphasized my worry at how this situation could unfold, and the next movements would only solidify that worry.

"How dare you." It had been silent for about a minute, so his stern toned sentence caught me slightly off guard.

"What?"

"Don't bring up matters that are none of your business!" Talking to him is like riding a roller coaster, one second he responds calmly, the next he's shouting your ear off. I actually stumble backwards, somewhat in shock due to the pure aggression and loathing he conveyed through his tone. The shout resonated in my head for a few moments before I forced myself to talk, my courage beginning to run thin.

"But David! Surely you can see that you're addicted-" My voice is soaked with concern, I love him so much, and this self-destructive behavior of his is hurting me as well. I'm about to continue but he steps forward and roughly shoves me back against the hotel wall.

"I'm not addicted! It is just a hobby!" The unbridled rage flows through his eyes, I see him raising his hand, but the rest is unknown because I shut my eyes tightly and turned away. I held my breath for a few seconds, awaiting the onslaught of abuse, but after being met with none I decided to maybe open my eyes.

The view I'm met with is pitiful almost, David is simply staring at me in shock, my arms still up to block any hits. I begin to breathe again, slowly lowering my arms as I watch his eyes well with tears.

"Y/.. Y/N, why did you do that?" I stare at him wearily, I thought he was going to hit me, I don't trust him anymore.

"You know why." I state solemnly, my voice but a whisper in the quiet hall.

"I would never!" He shouts back defensively, causing me to flinch away again.

He backs up frantically, he's about to say something before someone starts slamming on the door, hurriedly stating a message.

"Mr. Jones, your interview is in 5 minutes! We need to leave sir!" David stills for a moment before turning away. He straightens his suit and smooths his hair before grabbing his cane and walking to the door. As he's reaching for the handle he turns back to me, that same empty look having embodied him again.

"We'll talk about this when I get back." He's so cold, that's the coldest he's ever spoken to me, and I don't think I can take it anymore. Nodding my head, David leaves without another glance, a heavy feeling settling in my chest as I can feel the tears streaming down my face. I wipe them away quickly, the torn sleeve of my shirt dragging across my skin.

I can't stay here anymore, the way he spoke, what he did, how he left... He's chosen, and he didn't pick me. I should leave now, while he's gone. I stumble to my room, my legs apparently being a little wobbly after that interaction.

I pull out my backpack, shoving in clothes as well as my pen and notebook, packing my tooth brush/paste, combs, and moisturizer. I have to pack light, if the crew sees me heading out with a suitcase they will surely stop me from leaving, and I don't need David knowing that I was trying to run away... I worry to think what he would do to me.

I tear off my shirt and jeans and shove on a clean pair, wrapping my large jacket around my shivering frame, slipping on some insulated sweatpants as well. What can I say, it's December in New York City, I'm going to be cold as it is, no need to be freezing. I let my hair down to block my face, shoving on my boots before taking one last glance around.

Taking in my surroundings, I close my eyes and say a silent goodbye to David before grabbing my belongings and leaving.

Johnny Depp: Bodyguard Bestfriend

Imagine being a long time bodyguard for the Depp family, and having to be a witness during the trial:

*Includes blood, violence and domestic violence, based off of real events but not completely accurate*

Well, this is not where I expected to be. The year is 2022, and I'm currently sitting in court, waiting to be called to the stand.

_______

I can still remember the day I got fresh out of the army, I had a music major under my belt as well as 5 years active duty as a Calvary Scout.

I was so lost, I had no idea what I was doing, so I just started applying for security jobs - figuring my military time would come in handy, it did.

I got hired by a company that ran a security-for-hire gig, renting us out to anyone that needed us. I got a lot of shit at first due to my height, being only 5'6 isn't exactly scary, not to mention that women also aren't very intimidating usually. I did prove my worth in the end, I had a lot of training when it came to hand-to-hand combat, and I was also very adept at creating plans and schedules.

That's actually how I met Mr.Depp, or Johnny as he prefers... He had hired us for a gig out in LA; he had his family with him at one of the red carpet events, and wanted complete security for his wife and children. We hadn't talked at all, I was the head of my crew, making sure everyone was in position and ready in case some fan - or fanatic as I prefer - came jumping at them.

There were two people that had me on edge though, Johnny has two young children, and children tend to be unpredictable. This only became apparent after the night had already begun, Jack stayed close to his parents, but Lily seemed intrigued by me. Maybe it was because I was the only female security guard there, I really don't know.

It wasn't really annoying or anything, all that happened was she walked with me, wanting to hold my hand as we walked past the screaming fans. She got kind of scared of them, clinging onto my hand and sleeve, I knelt down and offered her my sunglasses, which she skeptically put on.

"Now those flashes won't hurt your eyes." I state with a smile that she immediately returns, flinging her arms around me in a hug. The screaming increases in intensity at this, making her friendly hug turn into a slightly scared embrace. I sigh quietly as I look to see the family quite a ways away, 'no way she'll do that alone' I think to myself.

I release another exasperated sigh before wrapping my arms around her delicately, picking her up.

"Don't drop my glasses kid." I say sarcastically, hearing her lightly giggle as I start walking back to Mr.Depp and his family.

Entering the awards was a breeze, there were fences, security guards were everywhere, everyone stuck together; it's the leaving that causes issues. Mr.Depp has a habit of wanting to leave early, meaning that it's just us against an ocean of people.

I already assumed he would want to leave early, so I had my crew create a tunnel through the crowd for the family that led them straight to the car. Everything had gone just as planned, although one issue did arise, Lily-Rose had disappeared. They were in the limo and Johnny was thunderous, exclaiming that they couldn't find Lily as he hurriedly attempted to exit the car.

My men looked to me, I took over, ordering some to stay with the car and for the rest to get searching. I looked over at Mr.Depp, who had one foot out of the car, with a sigh I walked over and gently shoved him back inside the car. He was obviously unhappy, even more so since I stopped him from exiting the vehicle.

"What are you doing! I have to find my daughter!" He yelled as he tried again, but I blocked his attempt.

"Mr.Depp, I have my men out looking for her, we won't leave without her." I reply calmly.

"That's not good enough!" He huffed angrily, glaring at me.

I was getting nowhere with him being polite, time to switch tactics.

"Take a look around sir! If you get out now, not only will your daughter be missing, but you will be too!" I exclaimed, glaring back at him as I waved my hand towards the frenzied crowd. He took a few seconds just looking around, I noticed his anger slowly slip off of his face, instead replaced by worry and fear.

"Sir please, if I know you'll stay in the car with your family, I can send more people to search for her." I explain, resting a reassuring hand on his stiff shoulder. He looks down to me, his face holding a calmer tone as he nods in understanding, sitting back in the car with a defeated sigh.

"Just find my daughter please." I nod my head, stationing 4 men on the car before sending the rest to search for Lily. I start searching as well, although I walk along the outskirts of the crowd to observe them.

The place is full of hustle and bustle, some of the fans seem to be looking for her as well, my crew are sweating bullets in fear of the repercussions for losing one of their clients. I simply shake my head, now is not the time to think of the repercussions, I need to keep my head in the game.

Turning around to glance back at the car, I notice something in the distance and take off running, two large figures are dragging away what looks to be a resistant juvenile. I call over my shoulder for some help, continuing my sprint when I hear some of my guys following me. When we get closer we can hear muffled cries and screams, it triggers an aggressiveness in myself that I'm surprised by.

We tackle the guys, quickly subduing them. I hand mine off to the other guy, worried I might do something rash. I quickly pull Lily away, not wanting her anywhere near those guys.

"Lily, what happened?" Her voice is uneven as she stutters out an answer. Explaining how she went looking for me before she was grabbed by them. I have to hold in my tears, she was looking for me? This is my fault, I should've kept a closer eye on her, especially after what happened earlier today!

I hug her tightly, making sure that knows she is safe now, that her daddy and mommy are waiting in the car. I kiss the top of her head, feeling her curl up against me in a comforting embrace. I heave a sigh before calling over two other guards, asking them to escort Lily back to the car.

She is reluctant, refusing to let go of me at first, but I made a promise to check in with her when I reach their hotel. That did the trick because she slowly released her hold.

I sternly instruct the guards to keep a firm hold of both her hands as they walk her to the car, not wanting her to slip away to look for me again.

I tiredly turn around to the two men on the ground, rolling my eyes as I call the police to have them taken in. This was an attempted kidnapping after all, can't let them roam the streets.

The cops arrive a few minutes after the limos leave, the situation takes about an hour overall, meaning the time is now around 11pm. I send the two remaining guards home before I begin driving over to the hotel. My stomach feels sick, I'm unsure of what will happen when I arrive.

Walking into the lobby, I'm immediately met by some of my men. They explain that Mr.Depp has demanded to see me as soon as I arrived, now I feel sick as a dog. The elevator ride was eerie, I've never felt so nervous, but then again, my client's daughter has never been kidnapped before either.

I still try to hurry, not allowing my worry to slow my actions. Although, my timid knocks may have given away your uneasiness.

A few seconds pass as the door unlocks and swings open, being met with the neutral look of Mr.Depp

"Mr. Depp I—" I got interrupted by a light tackle to your legs. Looking down, I notice it's Lily latched onto me, a contagious smile spreading across my face. My nervousness completely disappears as I kneel down to her level

"Shouldn't you be asleep right now?" I ask lightly as she pulls back from the hug. As she's about to respond, Johnny interrupts, saying it's past her bedtime, and that he had some business to discuss.

He had the whole penthouse floor to himself, so he simply walked to the outside patio on the opposite side for us to talk. I started getting nervous, he probably brought me over here so his family won't hear him yelling at me. He takes a breath, and I brace myself

"Thank you... for today." His voice is quiet but firm as he speaks.

To say I'm shocked is an understatement, his daughter nearly gets kidnapped, and he's thanking me? He turns around, being met with my astonished expression

"But sir, your daughter was kidnapped because I-" I attempt to say, but he halts my sentence.

"STOP... Stop it, I know you're blaming yourself." His tone is stern, almost fatherly, he is old enough to be my father.

"But sir, it was my negligence that led to thi-" I attempted to continue, but was cut off once again as he grabbed both my shoulders, forcing me to face him. His face is calm and serious as he speaks to me.

"No, no it wasn't, Lily told me what happened." He explained.

I stayed silent, wondering what she said, we looked at each other for a few solemn seconds before he let out a silent huff. His hand slips from my shoulders as he turns around and rests them on the railing, gazing at the city lights.

"She told me how she purposely went off looking for you even though she knew she wasn't allowed to do that." He continued.

"I'm also sorry... about yelling at you earlier, I was scared for my daughter, but that's not an excuse for my actions." He apologized, shoulders slumping as he spoke.

"It's alright-" I try to reply, I'm starting to understand where Lily gets her interrupting habit from.

"No it's not, stop trying to let me off the hook just like that, let me finish my piece." He stated in that stern fatherly tone again as he turned to face me. I sheepishly avoid eye contact, nodding my head for him to continue. A few seconds pass before he speaks again.

"Come to breakfast with my family tomorrow, we all would like to thank you, not to mention, I may have some business to discuss with you." With that he turns and walks off, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.

__

The next day we had a friendly breakfast, it made me think of when I was still close with my family.

Lily clung to my side the whole time, asking about my job, if it was fun, what I used to do, where I'm from. So many questions were asked within the span of 1 hour. Johnny had me stay behind, walking us over to a nearby cafe to discuss "business," whatever that means

"I want to hire you." He abruptly stated, stopping me from sipping my drink.

"You already hired me?" I reply with a confused tone, scrunching my eyebrows slightly.

"No, I mean, I want you to be part of the permanent security team. That means you'll travel with me and will always be near." It took me a few moments to realize the sincerity in his tone, he was being serious. He wanted to hire me after what happened yesterday?!

"What? why?" I exclaimed in confusion and shock, stuttering when I realized how rude that must've sounded.

My stuttering is cut off by his laughter, obviously finding my reaction amusing. He calms down quickly, but an endearing smile remains on his face

"I like you, you're surprisingly easy to talk to even though you are so quiet. My family seems to enjoy your company even though we've only known you for a day, my daughter has also taken to you surprisingly well."

"Okay, but don't you want my CV and everything?" I respond, still a little confused. He rubs the back of his neck, his grin turning into a sheepish smile

"I may have called your boss last night and requested your folder..." he trails off, looking at his drink.

"What... Are they even allowed to give you that?" I responded.

"Sorry about that, and no, I don't think they were allowed to do that." He replies, glancing back at me. I'm still shocked, my mouth hanging open slightly

"I know that's a bit intruding and inappropriate of me, but we're leaving soon and I-" He rambles, but now it's my turn to interrupt him.

"I accept." He's about to continue his explanation before an astonished look washed over him

"You do?" He asks, tone showing how surprised he is, perhaps he thought I would turn his offer down.

"Yes, now if you don't mind, I'd like to drink my coffee now."

For the rest of the day he had a big as smile on his face, which only grew as he told his family the news.

_______

From that day on, I lived and traveled with them, scheduling the details and shifts, making sure everything was ready for his arrival, I even sometimes functioned as a tutor.

At first he had me as just a guard for the entire family, but as the kids got older he assigned me specifically as Lily's bodyguard. I didn't mind this, it just meant that we could go out shopping together more often. As she grew, we developed a very close bond. When she was younger she acted like I was a second mother, but when she became a teen I became her big sister.

Over the years, Mr. Depp became Johnny whenever it was just us or the family. He always scolded me for calling him Mr.Depp, saying it made him sound old. He really became a father figure for me, especially after he finally learned why I never mention or talk to my family. Mrs.Paradis, or Vanessa as she preferred, became friends with me, though we weren't as close as Lily and I. Jack also became closer with me, though I could tell he felt a little awkward around me, I think he has a slight crush, though I can't be certain.

They became my family, I loved them so much, I hoped it would never end. Of course, all good things eventually die.

I was on set with Johnny for the Rum Diaries, it wasn't unusual for him to bring me along, it felt more like bringing his daughter with him instead of a bodyguard.

It was all fun, the movie was going great, he seemed to be having fun. But something was different after he returned home, he seemed off, like something was eating away at him. I tried getting him to talk, he just brushed it off, saying it was nothing; but I could tell by his smile that he was trying to reassure himself as well.

That was the beginning of the end for my happy family, the separation was not something anyone was happy about. I knew it stung when Vanessa learned how much younger Amber Heard was, she confided in me that this was something she always feared deep down. His kids were okay, they weren't ecstatic, but they weren't angry either; I could tell they just wanted their father to be happy.

Amber was... something else. Johnny seemed happy, it was like a year long honeymoon phase, although she wasn't exactly the nicest person if you ask me. Jack and Lily quickly began to dislike her, as did I, we would actively avoid her at all costs.

I especially tried to avoid her, she would always glare at me if I was anywhere near Johnny, demanding that I call him Mr.Depp even when we were just at home. She set me on edge, and the wedding only made it worse.

Lily was vehemently against attending the wedding, meaning I wouldn't be going either since she wanted to go out instead. I pulled Johnny aside and explained the situation. He was unhappy, but accepted his daughter's decision.

Before we left for our trip I pulled Johnny aside, taking both his hands warmly in mine as I said my congratulations and wished him well.

I spot Amber in the distance, beginning to walk towards us, so I hurry myself. I un-clip the chain around my neck, taking Johnny's hand, allowing it to coil in his palm before closing it. I look at him, smiling at the shock on his face, clearly surprised by my actions.

"B-but, that's your fathers ring!" He stutters, conflicted by what I've done.

"And now it's yours." I reply

"Y/N, I can't take this!" He exclaims, trying to give it back, but I shove his hand into his chest.

"Johnny, you've been more of a father than he ever was... I want you to have it." I responded quietly, feeling embarrassed by what I said.

He smiles as he pulls me in for a warm hug, immediately making me feel at ease. As we part, he kisses my check gently before separating completely. He removes the ring from the necklace, sliding it onto his middle finger before re-clipping the chain around my neck.

I thank him, and he's about to speak when Amber steps into our conversation. I can tell by the hostile glare in her eyes that she isn't very happy with me, but Johnny doesn't seem to notice. She drags him away before he could speak, but I simply smile and wave as he sheepishly does the same.

I pivot on my heel and head off to find Lily.

_______

If I thought she was bad before the wedding, I had no idea what was coming after the honeymoon.

Something was off with Johnny, he was a lot quieter, and that's saying something since he is already a reserved person. They also seemed to argue, I already knew about their arguments from before, but now they seemed to be happening in the open a lot more. Lily hated Amber, refusing to interact with her, always dragging me away to her room whenever Amber was near.

I don't object, Amber had taken to yelling at me too, so I enjoyed the moments Lily and I would scramble away and avoid talking to her. We survived like that for a few weeks, but then Johnny called us into the living room. Lily and I glanced at each other in confusion, wondering if either of us did something wrong.

"Y/N, Lily, I've called you here because there is going to be a slight change in Y/N's job." Lily and I both relaxed, assuming that it was going to be small and insignificant.

"From now on Y/N, you will be Amber's personal bodyguard." My eyes widened, I glanced over at Lily to see what I'm sure is the same reaction as me. Lily opens her mouth to argue, but Johnny holds up his hand to silence her.

"My decision is final." I looked away from Johnny to see Lily's eyes watering subtly. She looked between them both before running off back to her room; I went to run after her, but a firm grasp yanked me back.

Looking back to them, I noticed it was Amber who had pulled me back, a stern scowl on her face.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asks, her voice is definitely going to get on my nerves.

"To talk to Lily?" I state in confusion, wondering why she stopped me.

"She'll be fine, but I need you, I'm heading out with my sister to go shopping. Be ready in 10." She left no room for me to talk, simply turning and walking off. To say I was stunned is an understatement, so much is happening, it's hard to wrap my head around it.

I must've looked as lost as I felt because Johnny reached over and placed his hand delicately on my shoulder. I nervously look at him, being brought back to Earth by the warm, gentle look in his eyes.

"Are you alright, doll?" I smile slightly at the pet name, he's been calling me that since about a year after hiring me(I told him about how the guys in my unit jokingly called me"Doll").

"Yah, I'm just... Shocked. It never ran through my head that you might assign me to someone else, I guess it was unexpected for Lily too." I reply, looking down in thought.

"I never did plan on assigning you to someone else." Johnny stated, his voice holding a hint of annoyance, but it was well hidden.

"What do you mean?" I asked, now completely confused.

"Humph, I didn't want to reassign you, but Amber practically demanded that you be assigned as her personal bodyguard." He responds, looking away as he explains, it sounds like he wants to complain, but he is holding back.

I open my mouth to respond, but my voice is taken away as I gasp in surprise. Johnny looks at me, startled by my unexpected reaction. Now that he's looking at me, my eyes widen in worry.

"What? What is it?" He asks quickly, wanting to know what's made me like this.

I slowly reach my hand out towards his face, he lets me, it's not uncommon for me to poke him or fix his hair, but this is different. My hand gently caresses the skin under his left eye, how did I not notice the swelling?

When he realizes what I'm doing, he almost reels back within the blink of an eye, turning around so I'm facing his back.

"Johnny. What's going on?" It was meant to be a question, but it came out as a demand. His body deflates slightly, realizing I'm not letting him off the hook. He turns to speak, but is interrupted by Amber bustling down the stairs, speaking loudly on the phone.

"Y/N, hurry up and pull the car around already, we have to pick up my sister and you're making us late." Amber states in a grating tone.

"Alright alright, but give me a second, wanna take a selfie with Johnn-err Mr.Depp." I state, quickly correcting myself after noticing the look in Amber's eyes.

"Why do you want a picture with him, you see him everyday." She stated flatly.

"My family demands proof that I work for him." I reply effortlessly, she luckily has no idea that my family and I have had no communication for over 10 years. Johnny, however, immediately noticed my lie, thankfully only side-eying me.

I take out my phone, standing next to him, taking a few, telling Johnny to angle his head more to the right in a few. I smile after our 10 second photo-shoot, hugging him quickly before speed-walking out the door to grab the car.

He's probably flabbergasted right now, wondering why I lied about my family, and why I wanted to take some pictures with him. To be honest, I don't think that swelling got there due to something innocent, so I took a shit ton of pictures with him so that I can look at them.

I drive the car around to the front and wait for Amber. In my spare time, I open my phone and look at some of the photos. Not gonna lie, he's always prepared for a picture, even when he's caught completely off guard.

Analyzing the pictures, I note the swelling under his eye, as well as his cheek and a little bit on his nose. It's subtle, I'm surprised I caught it. He's also got a very light bruise that looks like it's in the last stage of healing. I go to look closer, but quickly shut my phone off as Amber enters the back of the car.

_______

That wasn't the only time I had an impromptu photo-shoot with Johnny, there were quite a few to come, all of them capturing worse injuries than before. Halfway into their marriage I knew for sure what was happening, before that I had only heard the fights and been left to assume, but getting caught in their fight was wild.

Amber had been up in his face, pushing him, saying vulgar and cruel things as he tried to leave. The other security were looking at me, wondering what they should do. This wasn't the first time we removed Johnny for his safety, so I quickly sent a text for someone to pack him a bag, motioning one of the guards to grab the car and bring it around.

I was Amber's guard, I'm supposed to protect her, but I know deep down that my default is to always protect my true family, and that certainly isn't her. So when I walk over and see her pull her arm back to slap him, I don't hesitate to stop her.

I grab her arm, shoving her back so that I'm between them. I don't want to fight her, that would definitely get me fired, the only thing I can do right now is protect Johnny, and possibly myself. The anger in her expression magnifies as she looks back to me, Walking up and getting in my space, clearly wanting a reaction. I stand firm, not allowing her to get to Johnny, but not wanting to hurt her either.

"Get out of here Johnny." I say, not removing my eyes from the threat.

"And leave you here? No way." He states firmly.

"I'll be fine alright, I'll catch up with you okay? G/N(guards name)! Take Mr. Depp to the car and get him out of here!" I shout to the guard across the room. I can see him coming closer in my peripheral, leading Johnny away, though I can tell Johnny felt extremely conflicted.

All the while, I'm blocking Amber as they escape, not letting my guard down until I hear the elevators beep from down the hall. When she realizes they are gone, it's like she somehow got even angrier. She looks down the hallways, then fixes her glare on me. Before I have time to react, I find myself across the floor, my mind dazed, a stinging on the left side of my face.

I shake myself as I stand, taking a few seconds to realize I just got punched in the face. I touched my lip, it got caught on my tooth and is bleeding something terrible. I wiped the blood off with my sleeve, but know it's useless right now.

"Oh, don't tell me you've never bled before? What with your military time?" Her voice is so patronizing as she leers, she taunts me anytime she can and it's reaching a boiling point.

"ENOUGH!" I yell, but she simply smirks, enjoying my reaction.

"Too scared to fight me? Afraid you'll lose?" She continues her taunting, looking down at me with her annoying height.

"More like I'm afraid I'll kill you." I state grimly, my instincts telling me she's going to strike out and that I should attack her first, but I know if I hurt her, it'll get turned on me. I wait a second, taking in a deep breath before shaking my head and turning around.

"Stop running! You people can't keep RUNNING!" She screams as she shoves me back around, screaming in my face.

"You make us run! You're so fucking awful that the only thing we can do is leave!" I shout back, shoving her off of me.

"If you walk out that door, consider yourself fired." She states arrogantly as I walk to the front door. My hand hovers for a second as I think everything over.

"I consider that a blessing, but you're not my boss." I growl before turning the handle and walking down the hall, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. I call G/N, asking them to send me the address as I start up my car.

Johnny was not happy when I got there, in fact, he looked ready to tear into me, but immediately stopped when he saw my face. About halfway through the drive I started crying, wondering how long she's been hurting him, how long she's been treating him like shit. He only takes a second to study me before rushing forward, pulling me into a comforting embrace as I cried into his shoulder

It's kind of funny looking back now, he was so focused on comforting me even though he was the one experiencing that mistreatment for years. He was always a gentle and caring man, but that moment made me realize just how selfless he is.

From that moment on, he allowed me to photograph his injuries without making me act as if I simply wanted selfies with him. He only agreed to it as long as I wouldn't let myself get hit for him, he hated seeing me get injured, and he didn't want his spouse to be the cause of it. I was scared when I agreed, scared that I could do nothing, but I quickly realized that getting him out of there would keep us both safe.

I kept all the photos on my computer, making sure to have duplicates, as well as keeping a hidden copy of prints. Johnny would also send me photos from when I got hurt, he wanted me to save them as well. She's only hurt me a few times, mainly when I try to get between her and Johnny, I usually would've broken her arm already, but I could never do anything to hurt Johnny.

_______

I was brought forward as one of Johnny's witnesses, I didn't want to go up there, to explain what I had to witness and allowed to happen. I felt disgusted with myself that I let Johnny get treated that way for so long, but I know that he had to leave her by his own decision.

In all the recordings brought forward, I was usually in them, you could hear me in the background, or I might've been right in the middle of it. I knew that the defense was going to lay into me, try and tear me a new one, but I hope that I can take the publicity and stress of it all.

I somehow managed to stay basically anonymous throughout all my years of watching over the Depp's, only pictures and videos of my covered face being seen, but now I'd be in front of the world. My name out in the open, my face on every news channel, my family will know where I am - that's possibly the scariest thing about this.

I've been holding my breath during every video, every picture, and every statement. It's always hard when I hear something that includes me, I always feel like I was an enabler in his abuse because I didn't do more; but I know Johnny would get angry with himself if I told him. When he explains moments in a recording where I got between them, or where I would force him to leave, I always found myself tearing up.

I hear my name being called, I look around, seeing the nod of encouragement from his legal team. They've been so supportive and careful with me, they know about my military time yet still treat me like a delicate flower, it's nice. They've become friends to Johnny and me, I'm glad he found them.

I smile back as I step forward, feeling Johnny gently drape his hand against my arm as I walk by, a soft reassurance that he's there with me.

I swear in, keeping my voice steady as I look at the judge, allowing my eyes to glance around the room for a quick read, avoiding looking in Miss Heard's direction. Johnny and I promised that we wouldn't allow her even a second of our attention, we wouldn't look at her, we wouldn't talk to her, and outside this courtroom we wouldn't speak of her.

I seat myself carefully, eyeing the screen in front of me, glancing to the jury, Johnny's attorney, then finally landing on Johnny. I told him all of my worries, he knew of my fear of the limelight, as well as my worry that my family will recognize me and try to contact me.

Throughout all of this, he's somehow stayed strong, even though he suffered far more than I, he refused to let me feel alone, so I refuse to not play my part in this case; if anyone deserves something good in their life, it's Johnny Depp.

Scar: What Did I Do?

Imagine being Scar's daughter, and Mufasa hates you:

— Lil warning: Mufasa is an ass, violence —

I was born several months before my cousin Simba, a small cub that most thought wouldn't survive; I never got to know my mother as she died during my birth. I apparently look just like her, my fur is a light grey, almost like the foggy mist that gathers in the morning before sunrise, and my eyes are a warm amber.

I am currently 5 months old, the lionesses and lions still towering over me. Luckily I have other abilities, such as how good of a hunter I've become, and the fact that I am one of the fastest runners pride.

———————

"DAD! DAD!" My roared pleadings seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

I' m currently being chased out of Pride Rock by my uncle, Mufasa. I can practically feel his anger, large paws pounding against the ground as growls continuously emit throughout the air.

(I'm not sure why, but he's hated me for as long as I can remember. He never lets me play with the other cubs, and he makes sure the lionesses ignore me. I'm not sure why he's so cruel to me, I don't think I've ever done anything to offend him.)

My body tiring quickly, I've been running for a while — and though I may be fast, I really need to work on my stamina.

I'm about to call for my father again when a sharp pain is felt in my right hind leg, I yelp loudly, tripping over my feet and tumbling to the ground. I curl into myself, afraid of what will happen to me. I suddenly hear a growl thundering around me, but this growl doesn't sound like my uncle.

I sense movement, two lions are fighting, snarls and swipes being exchanged. I slowly uncover my face, eyes cautiously opening. I immediately see Mufasa, his large stature stiff and puffed out, he still looks furious; the other lion being none other than my father. My father is smaller in size, but he is quick, dodging most of the attacks while landing a few of his own. Eventually they are circling each other, heads low and claws bared.

"Stand down brother." Mufasa slowly orders, but my father refuses to comply.

"Why, so that you can kill my daughter?" Father sneers, his eyes narrowing.

"What did she do this time? Run too fast? Ask another annoying question? Or did her presence simply offend you?" Each question was growled in a harsh, agitated tone, each word emphasized by a swipe taken at Mufasa. My father was extremely pissed, but who could blame him? This is probably the fourth time Mufasa has gotten angry with me, but it is the first that he has attacked me; every other time he just made me really scared or embarrassed.

After the barrage of attacks, both lions backed away slightly, heavy breathing and growls being the only thing heard as venomous glares were traded. Mufasa holds his head up, looking like he wants to retaliate, but decides to release a loud huff instead, turning to walk back to Pride Rock.

"Get control of your daughter or I will." He snarls slowly as he passes Scar, glaring at me when he stalks by. My form seems to only wilt further, fear of punishment from father now making me regret calling for him.

Scar turns away from Mufasa, diverting all attention to my wounded form. He walks over to me, making his way closer to check on my injuries, but quickly stops when he notices me flinch away from him. His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until understanding occurred.

"Y/N, you have nothing to fear, I promise I will never hurt you, okay?" His normally cynical voice is nearly unrecognizable, tone gentle and nurturing as he gazes down at his wounded daughter. I glance at him in uncertainty for a moment before stumbling up from the ground and running over to him.

He carefully comforts me, his paw lightly resting on my back as I begin to cry against him. As he comforts me, he quickly assessed my leg, it looks like a superficial wound, his claws seemed to have slipped right off of it.

"I-I don't-t even know w-what I did-d wrong." I whimpered quietly, my cries having simmered down to just tears blurring my vision

Rockstar: Your Story(Interview)

You're a famous rock star being interviewed about the beginning of your career to the current (includes mentions of Mick Ronson, David Bowie, and Mick Jagger):

"Ma'am, can you tell us a little bit about when you first met David Bowie?" The question was so sudden that I could only scrunch my eyebrows at it. I expected David to be brought up sometime, but I didn't expect the first question to be about him.

"Sure, let's see.... I can't remember the exact date, but my dear friend - Mick Ronson - had called me up saying some band was interested in having us as guitar players. I was hesitant because I enjoyed my job as an architect, but something pushed me to go with him; we hopped on the next train to London and did the audition." I explain, tilting my head up at the memories resurfacing. Ronno had been unsure as well, but I'm glad we went.

"We heard it wasn't a pleasant experience? What happened?" They emphasize 'wasn't', clearly looking for some juicy gossip on Bowie, and who am I to disappoint.

"Well, David had accepted Mick but rejected me, and Ronno originally turned down the offer because of that. He didn't even tell me the truth, just grabbed me by the arm and lugged me as well as the guitars out of the building. I knew it hadn't gone well because he had this angry glare in his eyes, which is strange, because if you've ever met him, then you'd know he's rather sweet, and has a very discerning disposition.

I asked what was wrong and he just said that they didn't want us. I knew he was lying, but I didn't want to argue with him. We spent the rest of the time wandering around London sightseeing." I state, folding my hands up in my lap as I look at the interviewer. I don't like looking back to the '70s, a lot of stuff happened, and I fear what they will bring up.

"What happened after that?" The interviewer continues hastily digging, wanting more information. I guess this person isn't going to quit until they get the full story.

"We had stopped by a restaurant and were having lunch. Ronno was saying we should catch the train home after, but we were interrupted by David. I don't know how he found us, I just remember being shocked when he started begging Ronno to join his band. I was also a little confused, and I remember saying, 'I thought you didn't want us?'

To which David responded, 'No, I want him, I just don't want you.' That line had run through my head the following 3 years until I realized how lucky I was David didn't want me." I say the last few sentences in a softer voice, not liking to relive that particular memory.

"He said what?!" The interviewer over exaggerates their movements, getting the audience laughing just as they had hoped. I laugh a little too, David saying something so rude does seem rather uncharacteristic.

"Yah, I was rather astonished as well because the words left him in such a casual way, as if choosing what bread to buy at the market." I say, gently chuckling at the visual of David buying bread in such a critical way.

"What- How, how did Mick react to that." Their eyes widen, the crowd quiets down as they await my answer.

"Oh, he almost punched David! But I grabbed him and pulled him aside, asking why he lied and all that stuff." I respond, remembering the beautiful anger that he so desperately wanted to act on.

"I bet the last thing you wanted was for him to join David's band, right?" The interviewer asks the question humorously.

"That's... Wrong actually. He was vehemently against playing in a band without me, this is mainly due to the fact that ever since we were 12, we've always played together. But, I wanted him to take the opportunity, to show the world his ability, and to be able to be a confident player without me." I explain in a gentle voice, vaguely thinking of how self-conscious he was at the time when it came to him playing guitar.

"You seem to be a really supportive friend, (Y/N)." The tone of their voice turns genuine, the whole conversation losing the humorous quality that had been sustained.

"I try to be, the last thing I want is for people's failings or regrets to be because of me." I smile, my relieved guilt ebbing away as I think of where he and I are now.

"As well as being supportive, you also seem to be fairly protective, at least, that's what I got when Mick told us the story of you traumatizing his high school bully! With that in mind, how did you feel when you learned he was earning next to nothing during the tour?" The beginning of the sentence sent the interviewer and audience into a bit of a laugh, I laugh as well at the memory of scaring off Ronno's bully.

The laughter lightly quiets down to a more serious tone at the end discussion.

"I was appalled! I hated myself for a while because of that, because I pushed him into this situation where he was barely getting paid. Which was the opposite of what I thought would happen, especially after their popularity went through the roof!"I exclaimed, my eyes widening as I relived the shock; the ebbing guilt rushing forward tenfold.

"I heard you went to some extreme measures in order to help him out, what exactly did you do?" The interviewer goes on, the questions digging into lesser known information.

"Well, I joined any band I could, I would try and get hired by restaurants for live music during nights, and then during the day I had a job as a waitress as well as working part time as a lyricist." I explain, just saying that makes me remember how tiring my schedule was back then.

"Now that's a lot to juggle, and I'm sure you have some great stories from those days, but we have a specific story. What happened during one of your many tiring nights of live music?" They ask, this question is sort of a bore to me, one I'm frequently asked to retell.

"I had been band hopping at the time, and was hired for a gig when I didn't have a supportive group, so I improvised. I played my guitar and was singing live, but before that I had recorded the drums and rhythm guitar parts for the songs I was scheduled to play, so when I got up there I just started the recording and played along.

This was for a club where they wanted rock, so it was heavier playing. It was during my guitar solo I noticed someone in the crowd." I divulged, deciding to add in some information I had never shared before.

"Ooh, is this when you met the Rolling Stones?!" Someone screams out, the crowd and interviewer looking in shock before they all burst out laughing at the person's eagerness.

"Yes... but I technically only met Mick Jagger that night. I wasn't a big fan of the Rolling Stones at the time, but I did have an appreciation for their music. I was actually playing one of their songs at the time. Either way, it just surprised me to see him." I continued after we had all calmed down.

"I know you joined their band after that, but can you tell us what exactly went down?" I squint slightly at my interviewer's vernacular before deciding to just answer them.

"I don't think I can tell you all the details, I worry J might get embarrassed! But, I can tell you that he met me backstage after I was done and asked me if I was available tomorrow to meet him at a recording studio. It was the weekend the next day, so I said yes, he wrote down the address and time on a piece of paper, handed it to me, then said goodbye and walked away." I state in a jovial tone, Jagger is one of my favorite people to talk about, because he loves to call immediately after the interview and schedule a meet up. He's strange like that.

"Sounds strange? How did you feel after that?" They looked intrigued, clearly wanting me to divulge the information that I withheld.

"I was shocked. The next day I went and met him and his band mates, then they started playing a song together and asked me to improv. I had never heard the song before, so I just started watching their movements and playing off of that; by the end they asked if I was interested in joining their band, which I clearly said yes to." I exclaim, the interviewer's face looking shocked by what I just said.

"Wow, that all sounds like it went really fast?"

"Oh it was, we had only been playing for 20 minutes when they all stopped and asked me to join. I was going to say no because I needed to make enough money to send to Ronno, but when they mentioned how much I would make weekly I immediately accepted." I reply, chuckling as I remember my astonishment.

"I know after joining the Stones, your career skyrocketed, your solo albums have done well, and you write all your own songs?" They continue, motioning to my newest album sitting on their desk.

"Yes, my solo albums have done surprisingly well, and I write my own songs. I do accept and sing other songs sometimes, but I usually have a story told throughout my albums, and throwing in a random song messes that up." I explained.

"Did you and Mick Ronson keep in contact during this?" They question, looking at me in interest.

"Of course! In the beginning, Ronno and I called every week at the least, and we would send letters sometimes too!" I state ecstatically before calming myself down.

"How did that work? He was touring at the time right?" They ask in a befuddled way.

"Yes he was, but he would tell me the places he would be as well as the dates that he would be there, and I would do the same with him. It was a little complicated, but it was worth it." I reply, my hands waving as I mimic us writing letters.

"Honestly though, what would you send him that couldn't be said over the phone?" They ask after a few moments, laughing as their mind runs.

"Photos, drawings, songs, food-"

"Photos?" I can hear what they're implying, and I can't help but squint my face in disgust. The crowd's laughter magnified at my reaction.

"Stop thinking like that, you all have dirty minds! I would take pictures of me and the band, as well as the places around me. I loved drawing as well, so I would send him some, as well as some songs that I thought he would enjoy playing. Lastly, I knew he was getting food, but I knew it wasn't food he was used to, so I would bake him something, or buy him local snacks and ship them off to the correct address." I explain, describing the different things I would send him.

"Did he ask you to do any of this?"

"No, Ronno was never a complainer, he hated telling people his issues. I was usually the exception, but he prefers telling me in person as compared to over the phone or in a letter. He did enjoy them though, and he would send me songs and pictures as well. I remember him snapping a picture of his drummer scarfing down some cookies I made!" I jubilantly state, smirking as I remember that the picture is still hanging on my fridge.

"You sent him all these lovely things, what did he send you?"

"I never asked for anything more than a letter or a phone call, but he would send me these extravagant songs, asking me how I thought they sounded and if I liked them. He would also send me drawings - he's not really an artist, but he knows I love the little doodles he does randomly, so he started sending them to me." I grin, knowing Ronni will be embarrassed by me sharing this information.

"Was this an easier time in your life or would you consider it one of the more stressful?" Ah, here it comes, the questions I am most dreading.

"The fame and fortune made my financial issues about none, but socially I felt isolated. I had played in popular bands before, but never like this, I was only consistently around my band mates and the people that worked for them. I only really talked with Jagger and Keith, and then Keith randomly started hating me, so I was down to only talking to Jagger." I reply almost subconsciously, my mind wanting to distance itself from these memories.

"What about Ronson? I thought you said you had weekly phone calls and sent letters?" They ask in confusion.

"We did, but about 3 months into that, David started complaining to Ronno that he spent too much time talking to me, and that he was ignoring his band mates for someone he might never see again." The answer in a short tone, clearly still holding resentment for David's decision.

"David said that?" They say in shock.

"Yah, he said it straight to Ronno's face. We obviously didn't stop talking, we kept calling and messaging each other, but it lessened after that to about 1 call every 2 weeks. They became much longer phone calls though, he said that David was limiting his amount of calls, but stated that David couldn't limit his time, so we would end up talking through the entire night!" I smile on glee, our weak form of rebellion still makes my heart warm.

"We've talked about Ronson and his band mates reactions, but how did your bandmates react?" They continue, going down a different avenue.

"Well, everyone basically made fun of me and said we were in love. They told me to stop being so desperate because I was probably annoying Ronno, that remark actually made me start to overthink a lot. I started worrying that I was annoying him, and that he didn't like talking to me anymore. I think that's around the time I began to develop anxiety, I was already depressed, so that just added on to my plate." I responded before realizing I was over sharing on live TV.

"Did you tell Ronson about that? How did he react?" They gratefully kept moving right along, not leaving an awkward silence.

"Well, I never actually told him about that, I think this is the first time he's hearing this." I smile in discomfort, and an uncertain smile on my face.

"Really? You never spoke to him about any of this?" They ask in surprise, slightly taken aback.

"My anxiety had me thinking that saying a single word to him was annoying him, so no, I didn't just start talking about this to him. It was a really dark spot for me, the person to pull me through was Jagger actually. He noticed my extensive isolation, how I stopped eating around others, how I stopped talking. He really pulled through for me, which is probably why I'm still friends with him." I voice solemnly, deciding that I might as well be honest about the situation since there is no going back now.

"I know this is a heavy topic for you, I have some more questions, but if you're uncomfortable we can move on." Wish you had said that earlier, but oh well.

"Ask away, we can just skip the ones I'm uncomfortable with." I smile in response.

"Alright, what did Mick do? Did he just pull you aside and talk to you?"

"No actually, he wrote a song and asked if I would listen to it." I responded.

"What?" Perhaps I should rephrase my vague response.

"That's honestly what he did. But he wrote a song with true meaning, it was rather dark, and it actually made me cry and begin to hyperventilate. We were alone, so he just rushed over and helped calm me down; he didn't ask me any questions until I had completely relaxed." I explained honestly.

"What did he say exactly?" They continue.

"He just apologized, asking if I wanted to talk. I said no at first, but then he asked why I've been distancing myself from him and the band, why all the songs I was writing were either dark or sad.

I told him the truth, that I was depressed, that I felt so intensely alone, and that I could no longer talk to Ronno because I was probably annoying him." An uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine, reliving those memories makes me feel nauseous.

"How did he react to that? I can't really picture him being the best at giving advice and comfort." She smiles in a joking way, attempting to lighten the conversation.

"He was lovely, he hugged me like a giant teddy bear and told me that he would help me through this. We talked for a while, he asked me why I thought I was annoying Ronno, and I told him what the band had said to me." I answer, feeling a small smile appear at the memory of Mick comforting me.

"What did he say to that?"

"He told me that they were a bunch of single idiots who were jealous, and that I shouldn't ruin a meaningful relationship with my best friend by believing the words of immature drug addicts." I respond, barely withholding my laughter as I watch everyone's reaction.

"He said that?!" They nearly yell, everyone laughing at my answer.

"Yes, and the next day he told them all off for belittling me. During our talk he spoke to me about my isolation, I explained that I did that when I was sad or feeling out of place, and he asked what he could do to make me feel like a part of the team. He honestly made me cry a couple of times from how caring he was. Then he started talking about heavier subjects, such as why I wasn't eating during lunch breaks, why I never accepted snacks, and why I was noticeably losing weight." I state, realizing that I was now broaching the subject of my eating disorder.

"That must've been tough." They state seriously.

"It was, I realized at that moment, how much I missed Ronno. I asked Jagger if he wanted me to leave the band since I was such a problem, but he told me to stop being an idiot. The next day I was given a few sheepish apologies from my band mates, and Jagger became a very prominent person in my life from that day on." I explained.

"That's good. So Mick Jagger stepping up to help you must've put him pretty high on your list of friends right?"

"Yes, I only realized how much he was doing for me when he barged into my room during a depressive episode and all but shoved the phone into my hand. I distinctly remember him telling me not to come out until tomorrow morning. When I held the phone up, he had actually dialed up Ronno, who sounded very tired and confused, as well as concerned." I smile, these are the memories that I hold onto dearly.

"Really? How did he know what number to call?"

"I assume he went snooping around my desk, in one of my drawers was a paper with dates, addresses, and numbers. It was one of the sweetest things anybody had ever done for me." The look on my face was genuine, that was honestly one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me.

"I know you two are still good friends, but was there ever the possibility of anything more?" Oh boy, I hate it when they try to talk about this subject.

"I did find him to be attractive if that's what you're asking, but I was never in love with him. He did ask me out on a date and I had said yes, the date was lovely, but we got caught in a crowd of fans and he was like how he normally is. It made me remember how many groupies I'd seen leaving his room, and how many women I've seen smothered over him at all times, and it scared me away from ever allowing myself to love him." I reply sincerely.

"Could there have been something? If you hadn't cut it off?" They continue to push the topic.

"There could've been something eventually - from the despondent look on his face when I said I didn't want a relationship, I think he wanted us to become something more. I don't regret what I did, I like the friendship I have with him, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it with his promiscuity and my need for loyalty. We've moved on though, I kind of see him as the older brother I never had." I reply, explaining my reasoning and the aftermath.

"Well, since that ship has definitely sunk, what about Ronson? Was there ever anything there?" They just won't give up will they?

"No... Well, there was one time in high school when we thought we should try dating, but that was spurred on by our teenage inability to understand that we loved each other, but not in that way. We realized that that wasn't us when we tried to act like a couple and both noticed that it felt forced. Ever since then we've been best friends." I state.

"Gosh, you're shooting down all of the fan favorites. Are you interested in anyone? Anyone at all?" They sound slightly exasperated, maybe I should throw them a bone.

"Hmmm... Maybe." I smile, a mischievous glint surely in my eye.

"What do you mean maybe? You can't leave the fans hanging like that!" I can tell that I have their genuine attention now.

"Well, ever since David and I have become friends, I've been... slightly interested in him." I say, jumping straight into the deep end.

"..." The silence could almost be described as palpable, it almost makes me want to laugh at how everyone is stunned into silence.

"Well, don't just stare at me." I laugh lightly.

"... I'm sorry, just processing. Does David know this?" They ask in hurried confusion.

"Well, if he's watching like he said he would, then he knows now." I laughed once again, but this time it had an air of uncertainty to it.

"Don't tell me you just confessed over live TV, in an interview no less!" They say in shock, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What can I say! If he likes me back then this has worked out great." I respond, grinning at their reaction.

"What if he doesn't!" Their response makes me shiver in discomfort at that possibility, but I respond in humor.

"Then I die of embarrassment, cut all ties, and become a hermit!" I state loudly.

"Oh don't do that Y/N! Only healthy reactions are allowed on this show." The crowd laughs lightly at our convo.

I'm about to respond, but my Motorola starts ringing in my bag. I look to the interviewer before quickly digging through my bag and pulling out the phone. I sheepishly glance at it, the audience having fallen silent at the interruption.

"Is it alright if I answer this? It might be important." I state, I know this sounds bad, but it could actually be important since I left my home and animals under the care of my neighbor.

"Of course, but you owe us one more question before you leave then." They respond, holding out their hand.

"Deal!" I agree, shaking their hand quickly.

"Hello, this is Y/N." I state in a professional tone, getting a funny look from the interviewer at my seriousness.

"Y/N darling!" I am thrown off by the happy and familiar tone.

"...David?!" I state in slight confusion, everyone seeming to lean in closer.

"...Yes?" He responds in the same tone, making fun of the way I responded.

"Why are you calling me? I'm in an interview." I explain, swiftly going back to my professional tone.

"Yes well, when someone confesses they are interested in dating you, I thought the first thing one should do is accept." He responds in a joking yet serious tone.

I'm silent for a few moments in surprise, did David just say he wants to date me too?

"Well, don't leave me without a response darling... Will you go on a date with me." His serious and self assured tone dwindled slightly, I can hear his uncertainty.

"Yes." My response was short, it was rushed and all I could muster with my amount of shock.

"Good, I'll pick you up after the interview, so I'll see you in a few minutes." He stated before hanging up.

I can't contain the overjoyed smile that spreads across my face, most certainly accompanied by a warm blush. The audience snickers as I clumsily put my phone away, then they start laughing as the interviewer stares at me with a smug grin.

"Who was that?" They ask tauntingly.

"Ohhh... no one." I try to brush it off, but I know no one is believing.

"Really! Does this no one happen to be named David Bowie?" They continue.

I avert my eyes in embarrassment, the audience laughing even louder as I sheepishly nod my head.

Unraveled Ch.1: Introductions

Ch.2

My original name is Elswyth Carlisle, but my friends now call me 'Elspeth' or 'Els', and to strangers I always introduce myself as 'Carlisle'. 

I am a 5"6 female with short, black hair, brown eyes so dark they could be considered black if the sun wasn't shining into them, and light honey colored skin.

I moved to Broadchurch not too long ago. My childhood friend and I both worked together as D.I.'s, and ended up going through a very serious case, and I simply couldn't stand being there anymore after it all fell apart, so I packed up and switched stations to one of the quietest places I could find, Broadchurch. 

I never did tell my friend where I was going or that I was even leaving, but that's because even just seeing him brought back memories of the case and the poor family. Not to mention he would probably somehow talk me out of leaving.

So far my life could be better, I suffer from depression, insomnia, and anxiety because of my last case. Panic attacks are something new that I've gotten since moving to Broadchurch because of a traumatizing event happening to me here, which I've made sure absolutely no one knows about. Though I've gotten a little bit better over the time that I've been here. I don't really want to go into detail at what happened to me, I wasn't even in Broadchurch when it happened, I was actually on my way home from a friend's party. As I said, I won't go into detail, but that event left me traumatized and reclusive, and it has led to me having reoccurring nightmares, and the scars on my wrists don't exactly make it easy to forget.

Luckily no one here knows about my relation to my past case, they simply think I'm a city D.I. who was looking for a quiet town; which is really good because I think my new best friend, Ellie, would hate me if she knew the truth. So far Ellie has been the most welcoming person, inviting me over, helping me get settled, and introducing me to all her friends and family, who quickly became my friends; we all became really comfortable and close to each other in the year that I've been here. 

I remember the first time I arrived at the station everyone gave me a warm welcome with faces clad in friendly smiles, it really helped me to move past some of the traumatizing events.

Ellie and Beth have even learned about some of my health issues and are trying to help me, though I refuse to go to therapy or the hospital, luckily they don't ask about my past or what caused these problems. Not to mention I'm really good at hiding them when I'm going through a serious episode, I never allow anyone of the public to see my issues, only Beth and Ellie know about them.

I pray nightly that this life of mine will only continue to improve, but like all good things, they never do end up lasting as long as you'd like.

Ch.2

Senseless Reality

It was early on a Thursday morning when she received the dreadful news that her husband was dead.

She had been wondering why he didn't return home last night, even waiting by the phone, eventually calling him but never receiving an answer.

She had just walked her children, Lisette and Alonso, down their lengthy driveway to the school bus awaiting, softly waving goodbye as it noisily drove away, finally letting her smile and hand fall as the bus went out of view.

Turning back to walk home she realized the birds were being particularly quiet, abnormally so, it made the silence uncomfortable as she was trapped with her ceaseless thoughts; not even the breeze rattling the fallen leaves was as loud as usual. She smoothed her black braided hair to the side before tugging uneasily on the sleeves of her blue-grey sweater, tightly wrapping her arms around her body as she began the walk back home, listening closely to the crunch under her shoes, her mind still wandering in confusion as to where her husband, Ryker, was.

A few steps away from her porch she slowed her walking as she heard the sound of a car, her steps faltering slightly as she turned around, revealing the stand-out black and white pattern of a Belmont, Ohio police car driving towards her. The glare against the windshield from the grey sky made it impossible to see who was driving, leaving her unsure whether to feel overjoyed or distraught at it's surprise appearance.

The closer it drove the quicker her heart beat, taking in shallower breaths as she watched the car pull to a stop a few feet away. Her hands subconsciously wringing each other as she waited for the car door to swing open, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot even though it was fairly chilly. She knew the dangers her husband was in due to his line of work, and knew that he could be injured or killed on any call-out; but nothing would prepare her for the despondent look on the officers face as he stepped out of the car.

Ryker was on call with his partner for a breaking and entering in a residential zone, the criminal had gone out the back and rounded the house to come up behind them as they went to enter through the busted doorway, shooting both several times in the back before running. The police were currently searching for him, but only have two witnesses, one who glimpsed him as he began to bust open their door, and a neighbor who saw what was happening and called the cops.

As the officer explained what happened her mind went blank, the already dampened noise of the forest completely disappearing and that uncomfortable heat suddenly vanishing, leaving her body instead feeling empty. She quickly found herself forced back into reality when the officer had reached out to touch her shoulder, it wasn't rude or unwelcome since this officer was real good friends with herself and Ryker, but the sudden and unexpected contact shocked her enough to jerk her shoulder away and take a step back. He immediately withdrew his arm, his gaze cast down towards the floor, whilst she dawned a regretful look as she realized her actions.

She finally said, "I'm sorry Carter, I-I just feel slightly overwhelmed at the moment." Her voice timidly quiet, a slight stutter as she tries to understand and control all the emotions suddenly running through her. A look of understanding washes over his face before nodding his head solemnly and turning back to his car, "Goodbye Saden." Carter spoke, offering a brief, sad smile before stepping into his car and driving off.

There were many thoughts rushing through Saden's head, all of the news not hitting her fully yet. With her mind racing she slowly made her way into her cabin home, locking the door before resting her forehead harshly against the stained wood, giving herself one moment of peace before pushing off and heading to the phone to make a couple of calls.

-------

The house is dark, giving off an unsettling and discomfited aura; the sun not having risen yet and no lights nearby, yet here is a boy with his school uniform and backpack on quietly closing the front door. He starts walking away from his house quickly, the anxious atmosphere surrounding him slowly dissipating the further he got, his tensed shoulders and on-edge look lessening to simply slight paranoia.

He has a scar above his eye, its somewhat red color making it obvious against his pale skin. He got this scar the same time he lost his mother and half-sister, the car crash was brutal, only him and one of the other cars passengers having survived.

He shades his eyes away from the blinding headlights that pass by every so often as he walks down the pavement, his paranoia disappearing the closer he nears Bingham's Pond. He finds a spot away from the road, setting his bag down as he observes the slumbering swans and ducks. A small smile graces his features as he remembers when he and his mother, Liz, would come here early in the morning to talk and watch the sunrise before school; his smile disappearing as quickly as it had arrived as he realizes he can only come here alone now. He could always ask his step-father Alec to come with him, but he dreaded any response Alec gave, especially now that he was the only one to survive the car crash.

In an attempt to shake his thoughts away from the past he glances back to the swans, admiring their beauty against the dark water. The first few sun rays start to glow against the dim sky, a slight breeze causing him to shiver as he has no uniform jacket since that costs extra money. As he sits down and leans against a tree he winces at the pain flaring up in his back before shaking it off and pulling his bag towards him, unbuckling the freezing metal and reaching in, pulling out a folder containing unfinished homework; a lot of them had crumples and tears even though he kept them neatly in a folder.

Releasing a weary and exasperated sigh he began working, starting with his name, 'Archer Carlisle', his cold hands making it harder to write and a look of aggravation flashes through his eyes as he knows that he will not get all this homework done before school; dread filling him at the thought of having to tell Alec about the bad grade even though his unfinished and torn homework was Alec's fault. With another sigh he got back to work, attempting to finish as much of it as quickly and as accurately as possible.

-------

It's been a week since I was told about his death, I already knew that I couldn't stay in our comfy Ohio home, especially since Ryker built it; just walking through the door caused a nauseating feeling to wash over me knowing that I'll never see him again.

The funeral was yesterday afternoon... The black dress I wore is now a pile of grey ashes in the firepit. My daughter Lisette went with me, it was a windy day with a sprinkle of rain dusting the ground outside; it seems that the world was even mourning the loss, but that's probably just me putting meaning into simple things.

My son Alonso took the death of his father very hard, I know how close they were, and seeing my son crying made a tear break through my facade of strength, but I had to quickly wipe it away as I embraced my weeping son. His cries lasted for an hour, Lisette began to cry as well when she saw Al's shaking form being comforted by mine. That night I stayed with them in their room, sitting on the carpeted floor between their two beds, one hand grasped in each of mine as I told them stories to lull them to sleep. When I knew they were asleep, I continued to hold their hands, leaning my head back against the wooden wall as I stared up at the ceiling, the light from the moon creating shadows of tree branches against the opposite wall. I simply sat there, thinking about the calls I made the day I received the news; by next week, what's left of my family will be in our Scotland cottage, away from here, away from him.

I still need to tell the kids, I'm not sure how to tell them we're moving away, away from everything that reminds us of their father. I can only hope they will not despise me for this decision, but just staying in this home causes my mind to wander in a direction I will not allow myself to go in.

------

The bell rings loudly as I rush into the closing door of my classroom, glancing around the room I see everyone already seated and the teacher watching me pointedly. Lowering my gaze, I straighten out my homework and turn-in the messily finished pages to the basket before traipsing past my teacher's desk to reach my seat, avoiding his and everyone else's gaze at all times.

I know I shouldn't be frightened by my teachers, but Mr.Curraigh has the same stern voice as Alec, and I can't help but be anxious whenever I step foot into his class; his strict rules and intimidating stature don't exactly help me when trying to differentiate the two.

Mr.Curraigh glances up from his computer to me, I swallow nervously and shuffle slightly in my seat as I look down to the paper I delicately placed onto my desk. The class's quiet chatter had resumed a few moments ago, but was quickly halted again when Mr.Curraigh pushed his leaning figure off of his desk and leisurely strided to the front of the class.

"Mr.Carlisle, wish to explain to the class why you were late? Again." His nonchalant first sentence greatly contrasted his harsh enunciation of 'again'. Subconsciously I lower my head as the class is silent, other classes might giggle, but they know not to screw around in this class.

I shake my head 'no' not fully trusting my voice to answer without stuttering.

"I can't hear you Archer. Will you explain to the class why you were late." His sharp, accented voice rang out against the stillness and left no room to avoid his question. I know he is looking at me as he awaits his answer. I finally look up at him, answering quietly as my gaze constantly flickers between him and the ceiling.

"I overslept sir, I won't let it happen again." I tried to present a calm face to hopefully stop him from calling me out again, my mind inside is blaring with thoughts of whether he will accept the excuse or not. A second passes before he walks back to the whiteboard and begins writing, everyone quickly copying it down in their notebooks, the conversation seemingly forgotten. An inkling of worry continued to nag in the back of my head that he knew my excuse was a fake, but I had no time to give it any contemplation as I was already falling behind on the notes, and my recent wrist injury isn't exactly going to benefit me either.

Class has finally ended, most people were packed up and waiting by the door for the bell, only a few people were sitting at their desks. I tuck the assigned homework into their folder, placing my notebook in my bag as well. I reach for the folder when another hand grasps it first, a hand belonging to no student. I keek my eyes up before quickly looking down at the desk, it was Mr.Curraigh who was holding my homework folder, he was leaning against the desk as he skimmed through the now open folder.

"Y'know, your organization and care doesn't add up when you turn in ripped papers." He states as he slowly closes the folder, holding it out for me to take, which I quickly follow through with, silently placing it in my bag.

"You want to tell me the real reason you always seem to be running late?" Mr.Curraigh questions, his normally loud and stern voice now quieter and containing a hint of concern. It's been a few moments and I have yet to respond when he voices,

"Archer, if you have a real reason as to why you are late, I understand, but I can't accept these fake excuses anymore. This is the 10th time you've been late. If you can't give me a real reason then I have to give you detention." His voice was never very strict or harsh throughout the sentence, having more of a warning tone to it, but all I can muster as a response is to uneasily shake my head 'no' as I look up to meet his gaze. Mr.Curraigh simply looks forward for a second before releasing an exasperated sigh and pushing off of the desk.

"Don't be late for detention Mr.Carlisle." Is all he says before walking back to his desk, the bell ringing and the students rushing out of the door, myself following immediately as to not be late to my next lesson. My thoughts for the rest of the day are clouded with how Alec will react when I come home late, how he will react when I tell him I got detention again. The dread pools in my chest, making it feel tight, the air suffocating me as I trudge through the day.

------

First day in our new home, it was a cottage that my parents owned and I inherited. Far away from Ohio, far away from Ryker, all the way in Glasgow, Scotland, located in a nice area with lolling green fields and a stone wall neatly surrounding it.

Lisette and Alonso had taken the move better than I expected, it would seem they wanted to get away as much as I did. I had called ahead to make sure the cottage was ready for when we arrived, and a friend of my parents is coming over to watch my children since I have to go to my job as soon as possible.

Rushing out of the house, I briskly give the friend a hug, quickly stating the time I'll be home before racing over to my rented Volkswagen vehicle. My bags strap twisting as I attempt to situate everything in the car, I quickly shove it into the passenger seat before adjusting the mirrors and heading off to my new job.

The grey clouds littering the sky remind me a lot of home, but this busy city is exactly what I need to get away from my small town life. Driving on the left side is quite odd though, something that'll take some getting used to.

As I pull into the parking lot I notice that school is nearing the end of the day, I hope I won't get fired before I even start. Quickly stumbling through the office door, I straighten my posture and shirt before walking to the front desk and stating I am the new science teacher. The woman smiles before phoning someone, I assume the principal or maybe another teacher.

After waiting for around 2 minutes, the office door loudly clamors open, a tall man with thick light brown hair and an intimidating stature strides in, giving a small nod to the woman before approaching me. I stand up and shake his offered hand.

"Hello there, I am Mr.Curriagh or Aric, I am here to escort you to your class." His voice has a thick accent to it, something I will have to get used too now since I'm living in Scotland. His intimidating posture seems to contrast with the friendly smile he offers.

"Pleasure to meet you Aric, I'm Saden." I politely respond before allowing him to lead me out of the office and down the hallway.

"So, you're the new science teacher?" He voices in slight curiosity, continuing to navigate the empty halls.

"Yes, what do you teach?" I question, walking faster to keep up with his brisk pace.

"Oh me? I've always been a literature person." His charismatic response causes a small smile to appear, the fact that people here are so nice and welcoming is something I adore. We come to a halt after another moment of walking.

"Well, this is your class, though you arrived a bit late." He explains as we watch through the window as students packed their bags. I release a quiet sigh, of course I would miss the whole first day of my job.

"Don't worry about missing your class, you can pop in to help with detention or explore the grounds." Aric states as he flickers his eyes from the window to me, I'm about to respond when the bell rings loudly, echoing through the empty halls before the classroom doors swing open and students file out. We both stand near the window of my classroom until the halls quiet down again, only a few students standing around, whilst some are just now finishing packing up.

Aric turns to speak to me again when his gaze turns to something behind me, his sudden shout startling me, and I quickly turn around to see the culprit.

A young boy with dark brown hair immediately halts, his eyes going wide at being shouted at, his arm tightening its hold around his book clutched against his chest.

"Archer. Detention is in the other direction." Aric states as he walks up to the student. I would expect any student to be nervous at being called out by a teacher, but this student, Archer, appeared downright terrified.

Before Archer is able to respond, Aric begins to speak again. "This is the second time you've attempted to skip detention, Archer." Giving a slight break as he waits for a response, after receiving none he let out a groan of irritation before stating, "Come with me Archer." Beginning to walk back over to me, Archer trailing a few steps behind with his eyes trained on the floor.

"I'm sorry to cut your tour short, but I have to escort this student to detention." Aric states as he glances back to Archer.

"Quite alright Aric, mind if I come with? I did miss my first day after all." I question, glancing at Archer, his eyes not having moved from the floor the whole time. Aric briefly nods his head before leading the way to detention. I quickly follow, attempting to keep up, listening as Aric describes the parts of the school we pass through.

------

Who is this person? Is she the new teacher? She did say she missed her first day here, and our new teacher for science was unable to show up.

I lift my head up, my eyes looking at her for a moment as I contemplate whether I should ask my question or not. Finally giving in to curiosity, I ask, "Are you the new science teacher?" My question seems to startle them both out of their small talk, Mr.Curraigh now silent as we await her response.

She turns to me and offers a friendly smile before responding, "Yes that's me, you can call me Mrs.Monroe." Her response is nice but short, and her voice seemed to waver slightly when she said her last name, causing my head to tilt ever so slightly in confusion at her reluctance to speak her last name.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs.Monroe, my name is Archer." I respond, my voice seeming more confident and louder than my normal tone, though I barely give it any thought. For what time was left of the walk to detention, I spent it talking to Mrs.Monroe, I don't know why, but she seemed easier to talk with, it could've been from her non-intimidating stance and height, or possibly that she reminded me of my mother, both of which are plausible.

We were talking about the book I was holding, "Great Expectations", when Mr.Curraigh comes to a halt, the room that detention is held in being right in front of us. I reach out to grab the handle, momentarily forgetting about my wrist injury until I release a grunt of pain, immediately pulling my wrist back and holding it against my chest as the harsh gripping agony floods my system, reminding me of yesterday.

Both Mr.Curraigh and Mrs.Monroe seem shocked at my sudden outburst of pain, Mrs.Monroe is about to say something but I have no time to think, stumbling backwards I turn slightly and run off. I go to the only place I feel safe, Bingham's Pond, or Swan Pond as my mother used to say; just remembering that causes a wave of anguish to sweep through my body, all these things that keep happening are too overwhelming. First I lose my mother and sister in a car crash, then my step-father(who already disliked me) blames me for it, and now I have a teacher who reminds me exactly of my mother, I simply don't know how I should feel or respond to these situations anymore. I'm so caught up in these prolific thoughts and aching pain that I fail to hear the footsteps approaching me.

It was the sudden hand on my shoulder that caused me to gasp in surprise at the presence of another person. Quickly turning my head I expect to see an angry Mr.Curraigh or possibly Alec, but I am instead met by Mrs.Monroe's sad smile as she crouches next to me. Reaching out her hand for my wrist I flinch away, but after another second I allow her to see my wrist, ignoring the possible consequence that she might question how I sustained this injury.

It was the slight widening of her eyes that caused me to follow her gaze, I chose to never look at my injuries, so seeing my wrist all swollen and bruised causes my eyes to widen as well. She lightly touches my wrist and I immediately pull away, the pain scorching through my arm. She seems to sit there in a moment of thought, as though contemplating what she should say.

"Archer. How did this happen?" There it was, the one thing I didn't want to hear. I shake my head and look away, only now realizing that a few tears had streamed down my face, quickly wiping them with my free hand. I don't hear a response to my refusal so I glance back, seeing Mrs.Monroe holding back tears as well, though why, I do not know. Shaking her head, she pushes herself off of the floor, and reaches out a hand for me, which I slowly take. Now standing I dust myself off with my good hand, loosely holding my backpack as I await her questions.

All she does is, seemingly shake her head to herself, before motioning for me to follow her. She leads me back to school, never speaking or glancing to me, just staring forward, almost emptily. She takes me to the medical room and tells me to wait by the door as she walks away to converse with a nurse. I wonder what she is saying, does she suspect that my step-father caused these injuries? Or does she think another student did this to me? Should I just run while I still have the chance? My thoughts are abruptly halted as both Mrs.Monroe and the nurse walk over to me, my nervousness kicking in at another person now being present.

I attempted to not pay attention to the flare ups of pain as the nurse wrapped my wrist in an ice bag, the freezing cold making me shiver as the weather outside was already chilly. After a few minutes of icing my wrist she brings out a compression bandage, snuggly wrapping my wrist and hand, the pain has lessened, but maintains a steady ache that surrounds my whole arm. When she finishes she gives me instructions to do daily, and a note for class seeing as that was my writing hand.

Walking over to the door, I spot Mrs.Monroe waiting there, her friendly smile replaced by a serious and stern look, one that makes my steps a little more hesitant. We leave the med room and walk out into the quiet, desolate hallway, her face still serious as we both stop.

"How did you get that injury Archer." It wasn't a question, but something that demanded an answer, one I was extremely reluctant to give. Angling my face away from her I shake my head 'no' again, not wanting to tell her the truth, my mind blaring that it would cause more pain than good, that even if she did believe me no one else would.

"Archer, if you don't tell me, then I will have to tell the office to call your dad." She states, her voice losing some of it's sternness as she attempts to get me to answer.

Hearing her call Alec my dad causes all these feelings to just explode, my anger is flowing freely, and I can't help but react chaotically, "HE'S NOT MY DAD!" My shout echos down the hallway, the silence left in its wake is uncomfortable, all that anger-driven confidence quickly leaves my body as I exhale. She's not stupid, she's going to figure out what's going on, I'll be taken away from my home, the last place that reminds me of my mom and sister.

Her posture seems to stiffen after hearing my response, I can only hope she won't be angry with my outburst.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time. Who did this." Her voice was deathly quiet, the second sentence being harshly enunciated and leaving no room for excuses. I finally face her, though my head is still lowered, my eyes flickering up to her every so often as I contemplate what I am about to say.

"....Alec." My voice practically a whisper, though I know she heard it, and knowing that someone else is aware of this secret just causes me to feel... vulnerable.