This is my 3rd story (and as cheesy as the last ones), but please do enjoy reading it, because I've put the most common GG characters written in other fics by other authors.
I've asked Danceljoy a few questions what she knows about GG's most popular pairing, Ky Kiske and Dizzy and I found that her advice is very useful for this fic. However, those common characters will only appear in later chapters.
Readers, this story is about YOU – your gender focused on this story is a female, but it doesn't matter if you're a male either.
The rain is pouring lightly on the well-trimmed grass and you can feel the tiny raindrops on your rosy cheeks and the edge of your nose.
It's been the fourth time you haven't brought an umbrella along with you, but forget it. You love the rain.
You like to wear simple t-shirts, short or long jeans, a cool pair of Keds and tying up your hair would make you even trendier.
Nothing existed for you but the memory of your father's death that caused you so much pain, but you'll never let that saddening image interfere with your social life and studies at school.
As you pass by the trees you hear your mother calling your name and you run to the direction where her voice is coming from.
This time, the rain is pouring heavier than before so you decide to run faster, only to keep your mother and stepfather patient.
You reached the parking lot where your car is honking loudly. You get in the car, and your mother glares at you as usual ever since your father died.
"Where have you been all this time?" she says "And look at your clothes, young woman. You're all wet."
You don't know what to say. She's right. You shouldn't have stayed in the woods too long. Your mother may act cruel to you sometimes, but you love her deeply just the way you loved your father.
"Next time, let's not bring your daughter, sweetheart." your stepfather said to your mother.
This man is only reason why you want to escape. Charles Clayton. The man who'd be spending to rest of his life with his lady, your mother. You hate him. He married your mother months ago, which is still not a long time yet, but he's been doing mean things to you all this time. You constantly tell your mother but she doesn't believe you to make it worse. Whatever he does to you, he accuses you for his own fault.
How you wanted to punch him in the face. But you can't. Your mother is sitting beside him and you couldn't do anything to defy his words. You're such a coward.
You live in a lovely suburban neighborhood filled with fancy 2-storey houses with Renaissance-style decorations on the gates and walls.
You finally reached home and the sky is getting darker. You and your mother get out of the car when your stepfather has parked the car in the garage.
You got in the house and you go upstairs to your bedroom. You change your clothes and jump on the bed. You sigh in relief, a good time for a rest.
All of a sudden, your stepfather's voice boomed from downstairs calling your name. You groan in anger and walk towards your indoor patio.
"What?" you say rudely. You don't want to be disturbed during your peaceful evening rest.
"You gotta prepare drinks and snacks." He says "we've got guests visiting tonight."
As you go down the stairs, you mutter swear words. Seriously, do you have to do that only to prepare food for visitors?
You walk inside the kitchen and your mother is putting a tray with glasses on the counter. Your stepfather is making cappuccino for himself. You opened one of the drawers and got out a spoon and other utensils.
"I bet these are going to be unexpected visitors." You say, smirking. You realize he's shooting dirty looks at you. This is what satisfies you. Making fun of a person who doesn't care about you. "Who are these strangers going to come anyway?" you say again, taking out a plate.
"His assistants." Your mother says without looking at you.
"Hey," you point at your stepfather "aren't you also going to prepare something? 'Cause this is a load of crap if you're just standing there and enjoying your mug full of poop."
Your mother shouts at you "How dare you!" she pinches your arm hardly "Don't you realize how disrespectful that was?"
"And don't you realize how disrespectful that is when this man," you point at him "isn't helping the hell out of his wife preparing food for the guests? Huh?" you shout back.
Your mother doesn't say anything. Ha! She continues to mind her own business while Charles is sipping his drink.
It's already 7 pm and the guests have arrived. You stay in your bedroom not wanting to meet those friends of your stepfather. From your room, you can hear the front door opening and several people saying: "Hello! It's so nice to meet you!" "How are you?" "My friend, I haven't seen you in a long time!" and all that.
How many guests are there anyway? You wonder. The noise down there is such a commotion. Although you're still curious about those visitors, you still don't want to see their faces.
The time passes by. You lay on your bed and hugging your pillow tightly. You can't stop thinking about your father. You miss him terribly. You slowly fall asleep.
You knew the day your mother marrying another man has come. Well, this isn't probably the fairytale destiny that you were expecting, didn't you?