I heard the glass shatter before I'd realized I had woken up.

The splintering sound came from the floor below, in the living room. It must have been a photo-frame, or a glass of wine. She was drinking wine. It was followed by a stomp of feet up the stairs so loud I sat up instantly, clinging to my blanket in fear of my door swinging open. Although I knew it had nothing to do with me. It never did. But it didn't stop me from thinking.

I glanced at the clock glowing red numbers in the dark surrounding room. It had been ten hours since the news broke. Is that all? It felt like the length of Christmas Eve for a 6 year old child, desperately waiting for Santa to deliver her new Barbie dream-house. But I am not 6 years old and it's not Christmas Eve. Halloween locked in a room with Mike Myers isn't as scary as this night has been. I heard the bedroom door in the room next to me swing open, slamming against the wall between us causing me to jump slightly at the violent sound.

I threw the blanket of my half naked body and crawled out of bed walking towards my door, tracing the handle and frame with my finger tips. I wanted desperately to run out and try to reason with them, try to make things the way they were ten hours and ten minutes ago. But something held me back. I'd regret it tomorrow but for now I didn't want to leave my room. I didn't want to make things worse.

"How long's it been happening?" My dad was the one in the bedroom, and he had now exited out into the hall. I could hear the sound of something being dragged along the carpet on the staircase, the irritating sound making me shiver from head to toe. "How long have you been fucking him?" I cringed at the words. No one wants to think of their parents being sexually active. And no one wants to think about a parent being sexually active with other people. Parents aren't supposed to cheat when they are 50. They're supposed to be settled and they aren't supposed to have those urges. So when you hear that your mom has been hooking up with someone she met at the gym, you instantly question everything you once believed. If parents can cheat, what hope do any of us looking for love have?

"Ben," my mom cried. I could practically hear her tears falling down her stained cheeks. It was like I wasn't here. Like they had forgotten I could hear it all. "Please." I could hear my dad scoff. He was probably wondering what she was asking for, how she could ask him for anything after what she did. My dad and I are alike that way. And in many other ways as everyone who knows us points out.

I grabbed for the door knob again but pulled away so quickly it was like it had burnt my skin. All the sound had drowned out and all I could hear was my dad sounding vulgar words that made my stomach turn. I wanted to tell him to stop because I knew he didn't mean it but it was like my tongue was caught in my throat. What if the neighbours can hear? I thought. The last thing we needed was the housewives of San Francisco gossiping about how my dad is abusive and my mother is a whore.

"I didn't mean for it to happen." My mom explained and I rolled my eyes. The old cliché of how you accidently fell onto another man's dick. My mind was yelling 'accept what you did' but I knew she wouldn't. It has never been in her character to admit when she did something wrong. My father was always the bad guy for being so dedicated to his work. He was a doctor. You can imagine the hours. But she never once complained when the money from his work bought her a new pair of shoes or paid for her gym membership. She wouldn't know about dedication because she has never worked a day in her life. Maybe that's why she felt so bored she needed to find someone else to occupy her. Something that wasn't my father.

"What exactly did you mean to happen?" My dad questioned her and I could hear the accusations in his voice. He was trying to be strong and unwilling to be manipulated by her excuses. He wasn't stupid, he could see right through people. That's why he is such a good psychiatrist. It's another characteristic I got from him, also. "Fuck, Viv. Did you think getting drunk with a 30 year old wouldn't resort to you spreading your legs for him? We both know you have to restraint." Ouch. I felt the pain as though he was speaking to me directly and I heard my mother let out a gasp.

"What did you expect Ben? You were never here; you were always in the office. You weren't even here for your daughters fucking graduation." She was blaming him now and I didn't realize I was shaking so much until my hand collided with the wall. It didn't shock me that she brought my graduation into it. I was devastated at the time, but when your dad explains that one of his patients was going to attempt suicide, you move on from it. I heard my dad attempt to defend himself but she wasn't going to let him get a word in. Because in her mind, it was always his fault and she was a victim in this marriage. "You hadn't looked at me romantically for months. And then somebody did and I fell for it. Does that make me a bad person? That I am weak and gave into attention?"

I nodded from the opposite room but my dad hesitated. I shook my head in disgust that he was going to mediate with her, and try to understand what she did. There is never an excuse for cheating. When you commit, you have to commit completely. That's what I thought I had been brought up to know. It's all been a lie. "No. That doesn't make you weak." I wanted to shout at him. This wasn't my dad. My dad was a strong man that didn't take crap from anybody. He was someone I admired and also feared. But he wasn't the man who I was disappointed in. "What makes you weak is that you couldn't come and talk to me about how you felt, and instead you blame me for your own disloyalty."

He was hurt. I could hear it in his voice, like he was defeated. After over ten hours of fighting he had accepted what she did and that he'd never understand it. The thought had left him utterly defenceless and I could tell he just wanted to stop. He needed to get out of there. Just like I did. My mind drifted off to all the different possibilities. We could start our life over somewhere else. I had graduated two weeks ago so I was free to do whatever I wanted. I had originally planned to go East Coast and intern for some big newspaper but my dreams were fading daily as more rejections and less acceptances rolled in. In fact, maybe an escape with my dad would be good for me. It could give me a clear mind and a vision of what I am going to do for the rest of the year. Or the rest of my life. Maybe we could go all out and move to London to meet some intelligent and sophisticated British people. Despite thinking about all of this I knew none of it would ever happen. My dad wouldn't leave San Fran because it was his home, and he grew up here. And I was just as stuck as him with no job, no future and no career.

I was snapped back to reality by the sound of my mother's cries growing louder by the second. "You can't go!" She yelled. Go? Where is he going? Before I knew it I swung the door open and headed for the stairs. I looked down the dark hall, only lit by a small light near the doorway and seen my dad wrestling away from my distraught mom as he headed further and further away. He was leaving her. He was leaving us. My head was spinning with emotions. I wanted to run after him, pull him back to me and slap him for thinking he could abandon me and leave me with her. Another part of me was cheering him on, begging for him to get away from her while he had the chance. I didn't want him to be weak. But I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want my dad to walk out that door and fear that he would never enter it again. Because the moment the door was shut, the connection was gone and our family was officially broken.

"Dad?" I squeaked from the top of the staircase. And suddenly all the commotion downstairs stopped. My mum stopped holding him back and my dad stopped pulling away. Both of them looked at me. First with a look of fear, then pity and then finally, acceptance. My mum let go of my dad and whispered for me to go back to bed. I narrowed my eyes in fury at her. Did she really think I could sleep with all the noise they were making? I tore my eyes away from her and looked towards my dad. He looked heartbroken. His shirt was dishevelled, his eyes were red and his hair was messy with frustration. Within five seconds, he had a wall up and was being the strong, protective father I was always used to seeing. I felt a lump appear in my throat. My dad didn't want me to see him upset. He was so determined to protect me from his pain, that he was willing to suffer it alone. I couldn't let him do that.

"Go to bed, kiddo." He gave me a half smile and headed towards the door, not once looking back as he left, bags in hand as our family was torn to shreds. I stood without motion, only swaying once or twice because I was completely unaware of my surroundings. I felt a tear break free from my eye and roll down my cheek, onto my chin then drop onto my bare feet. I couldn't believe he was gone. Just like that, and it was all over. I had no idea this was happening until ten hours ago. How did everything happen so fast?

I woke from my thoughts when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Lauren." My mum was in front of me and she was trying to comfort me. She was trying to do her job as a mother, and protect me from the pain even though she looked more of a mess than I was. I looked up at her and tilted my head. I didn't even know who this woman in front of me was. She was tainted, and poisonous. She ruined our family. She ruined my life. I couldn't stand to be near her, so I shook her hand of my arm and gave her a glare that startled her back a few steps. I could be aggressive like my dad too. I turned and walked a slow walk back to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I rested my head against the wood and closed my eyes, letting the tears fall quickly as I wondered what was supposed to happen now. I couldn't live with her by myself. I couldn't even look at her. I needed to get out of here. I needed to escape. I just wasn't sure of where yet.

2 months later.

The heat of the crisp California air burnt my skin as I stepped off the plane and into a car service. The flight from San Fran to Los Angeles wasn't long but the months leading up to it made it feel like forever. It took a lot of convincing for my mom to allow me to break away from her 'fresh start' but when she found out I would be living closer to home than planned, and in a shared flat with Caroline, she couldn't say no. While staying West Coast wasn't how I had envisioned getting away from my train wreck of a life, I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to live in La La Land with my best friend.

I took a cab to the address my friend had text me before I got on the plane, and I stared at the window as I watched the beautiful tanned people walk the streets in denim shorts and big sunglasses. I knew I'd stick out like a sore thumb here, with my pale skin and blue converse. But if this is what it was going to take to start over then who I am to be picky about what life throws at me?

The cab pulled up outside an apartment block and I looked at it quizzing the surroundings until I decided to venture inside and search for room 14. I found it on the second floor and at the end of the corridor. Just as I was about the knock on the door, I was assaulted by a flood on blonde hair, forcing me backwards as she held me close to her excitedly. Caroline was always an excitable person. And LA seemed to amplify that.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed into my ear, not loosening her grip in the slightest. "I can't believe you're here. I can't believe we're here together! Isn't this just the best day of your life?" I wasn't too sure about that exaggeration but I laughed along and smiled back at her eagerly when she let go and finally dragged me into the flat

The flat was small, but perfect. When you entered at the door, you were almost instantly greeted with the kitchen area. It was a square size and it was very natural with its white counters and grey walls. It almost instantly leads off into the living area, with was decorated with a cream couch, a glass table and a TV directly behind it. If you walked all the way over, there was a window which looked out into LA and the quiet surrounding area. Next Caroline pulled me back towards the door and pointed out her bedroom, there was a bathroom right beside it. It was small, but it'd do. And my bedroom was at the opposite side. It was bright and almost too...fresh. There was a double bed in the middle, a wardrobe by the far wall and a set of cupboards at the other end. It was all very simple, which was perfect for moving into 'cause then I could make it 'me.'

"It's great." I told her honestly. "I love it." I settled my bag down beside my bed and walked over to the wardrobe. It was probably the biggest thing here, and I got very excited to fill it up. When I turned back to face Caroline, she was doing some strange up and down bounce on my bed. Like she was checking to see how comfortable it is. I leant against the wall and sighed, feeling suddenly homesick. Part of me was ecstatic to leave the past behind, get out from under my mother's and her new boyfriend's hair. But the rest missed my dad. I hated leaving him back home. He didn't have anyone else, but he insisted I go and start a future for myself. I didn't want to let him down, so I went.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and groaned when I seen another missed call from my mum. I wanted to get away but she was never going to let me go. Not completely. I ignored it and slid it back into my jeans walking towards Caroline; sitting beside her once she had settled down and had stopped jumping like a maniac.

"Now that you are here, we need to figure out what you are gonna do." She said happily, as though it wasn't her pushing me out to get a job so I could afford rent. I had only been here ten minutes and the reality of having no definite future was coming clearer by the second. I thought staying at home in San Fran was to blame for that, but the further I got away, the more real it became. "A friend of mine just left this job, so there is an opening. It's really good money and it's for a great company."

Just by the way she was trying to sell it to me, I could already tell it was going to be a shitty job. Instead of humouring her, I asked her upfront. "What's the job, Caroline?" She sighed and turned to face me more. My inner thoughts were thinking the worst. Like prostitution or a babysitter. My worst nightmare.

"It's a maid for a really rich guy." She blurted out. My stomach turned. Gross. I didn't want to clean the house of some old, disgusting pervert that wanted young girls in skimpy outfits on their knees in his bedroom. Caroline sensed my displeasure instantly and quickly jumped to defend the job. "It isn't like you think. It's for some business man, and my friend Bonnie said he is great to work for. He stays out of your way and just lets you do your job."

That sounded better, but the prospect of cleaning someone else's filth just turned me. "How much does it pay?" I asked and she smiled at my interest. I must have been really desperate to be considering this. But it wasn't for the long term. It was just until I found out what I was doing. It would only be for 3 months- max. She then went on a long rant about how she has already set me up for an interview in two days time. I tried not to laugh at how she obviously knew how easily she could force me into it, but I just nodded and agreed to go for it. At the end of the day, a job is a job. And I desperately needed one.

...

I was in a posh office building on the top floor of an 11 story building. The blonde secretary was calling the names of several females; one by one they walked into a room to be interviewed for the position of 'trainee maid.' Only in LA would girls be fighting over a cleaning job. And only in LA would they all be stick-figured, tanned barbies. I might as well not have turned up for the interview. No man is going to want to see me in a uniform over them. I fiddled with the hem of my skirt nervously, swearing out loud when one of my chipped nails plucked my tights. I don't know why I can't just keep my hands to myself.

"Lauren Owens?" The pretty blonde at the desk called, awakening me from my daze. I nodded to her, stood up and walked towards the door. Part of me wanted to turn back and go grab a McDonalds, but I gave myself a pep talk and pushed the door open. When I entered the room, I was startled by its beauty. Deep, rich mahogany was painted over the furniture; dark curtains complimented the window while my eyes danced over an impressive bookshelf that took up two walls. It was the office of a King. Just who exactly was I planning to work for?

"It's quite spectacular, isn't it?" A female voice woke me from my admiration. She was a brunette. Well, not really. A very light brown at most. But she was beautiful. Tanned skin, but her cheeks were glowing and it all looked natural. I nodded to her, confused by her presence. I thought I was working for a rich old man. "Yes, Mr. Salvatore has quite the eye for interior. Or at least designers."

So she works for 'Mr. Salvatore.' And she must be pretty high up if she has been doing his interviews for him. She gestured I take a seat to which I obliged, still playing with my skirt as I sat down, resting my hands on my knees. "I'm afraid Mr. Salvatore doesn't do these sorts of interviews." She smiled and I tilted my head in confusion. "You look disappointed." Should I be?

I shake my head and reply. "If I'm being honest, Ms...I don't even know who Mr. Salvatore is." Her eyes widened in surprise, and I wondered if I had jeopardised my chances by telling her that. But she settled with a smile so I decided it would be okay if I continued. "I just moved here."

She nodded in understanding and set aside the pages she brought with her. I glanced at them quickly and noticed they looked like interview questions. "He is a business man. He owns his own company which deals with- well, you probably aren't interested in boring business deals. But he is a very successful, well known, and well admired man in Los Angeles. People would kill to work for him." I swallowed shyly, feeling like this was her way of saying I should be grateful for the opportunity. "Even just as a maid."

"Well, I-uh. I'm very grateful for the opportunity." I lied. Please just get on with the interview and let me look for another job that I am actually worth. She smiled, but it looked almost as though she was smirking. "I know I'm not the most qualified for the job but I am a hard-worker and I am very dedicated to everything I do."

"Yes, I was surprised to see you on his list when you have little to no experience." She told me, and it made me feel nervous. I only got this interview because of silly connections, and I seriously underestimated the stature of what this kind of job asks for. "But you were highly recommended by one of Mr. Salvatore's best maids. It leaves me in an awkward position when all the assigned questions are related to trained maids." She laughed and I awkwardly giggled. I was so uncomfortable; I just wanted to run into the corner with my tail between my legs.

"I guess I could try and sell myself?" I questioned and she nodded, looking intrigued. I cleared my throat and attempted the same speech I gave NYU at my interview. That didn't work out well but it was worth at shot. "I am recently 19 years old, and I am originally from San Francisco. I have a lot of pride on my ability to adapt to new situations-" and I rambled on, reciting it word for word. And then I realised I sounded like a robot, and that is the last thing I wanted. So I decided to go in another direction. "I came to LA to break away from a small-town and find myself. I was trapped in an emotionless situation with my mom and every day was the worst day of my life. So I came to LA to find peace, happiness and while I do not necessarily believe cleaning is my life's desire, it is something that can fill my days because right now, other than my friend and this glorious sunshine, I haven't much to live for."

My mouth fell into a tightened line and I was mentally slapping myself for being so bluntly honest. There were reasons why I didn't put myself in situations like this, and this was one of them. I shifted slightly and tapped my foot against the desk but it sounded like I had smashed it with a hammer. The woman opposite me giggled and stood up. I didn't know if I should do this same but I did it anyways. "Well, that was awfully informative. And I'm afraid our time is up." I glanced at the clock. It had been less than ten minutes. Maybe she wanted to get rid of me.

I walked towards the door as she guided me out, stopping just to say goodbye. I wasn't going to be rude; despite the fact the interview was disastrous. "Thank for you for taking the time to talk to me."

She smiled and opened the door, gesturing me out, only stopping me to shake my hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Owens." I couldn't help but feel she was laughing at me. I was probably being paranoid but who would blame her for finding this whole situation humorous? "I will have someone get back to you by the end of the week." I wouldn't be waiting by the phone and as she closed the door behind me, I sense that she completely agreed.

...

The week had flown in and I was finding myself settling more into the new lifestyle more every day. I wasn't startled by a Z-lister celebrity walking past me in Starbucks, I wasn't surprised by the crazy driving, and I wasn't irritated by the fact people wore sunglasses indoors. I had accepted it, and found it endearing. In fact, I even wore my shades indoors today. Just so I could feel part of this big bubble. My room was now decorated exactly how I liked it. I had bought myself a small bookshelf, adding my favourites to it, and leaving the rest in the bottom cupboard. The bed-side table was now complimented by a photograph of me and my father back in San Fran two Christmases ago.

As for what I am doing with my days, well I am exploring. Unable to stay bound to the flat, I've been constantly walking up different streets, checking out different stores and being fascinated by everything it holds. But today I was bored. I was stuck in the house as the rain emptied from the skies. It rare to see a day like this here, but it scared me enough to trap me to the house and stare at re-runs on the TV. I was watching Friends when the phone rang. I scampered over the couch and quickly answered it with a "Hello?"

"Ms. Owens?" Oh God. It was her. The assistant of Mr. Salvawhore. I stammered a yes, curious as to why she would be ringing me. Back where I came from people were too lazy to tell you that you weren't successful in getting a job. At least here they were more polite. "I am calling you in regard to your interview earlier this week." I stammered a reply again, unsure of why today I am unable form sentences. "How do you think it went?"

Horrible. Horrendous. The worst interview of all time. "Um, I'm not sure." I lied. What did she expect me to tell her? Surely she knows what it was like. She was there. "I mean, I know I am not the perfect person for the job. I just thought I'd be honest with you. Although, thinking back, I was probably a little too honest." She laughed from the other end and I could sense her agreement.

"Well, there was only one position and thirty girls applied." I told her I understood. She didn't need to make me feel better about myself when I knew the moment I walked in the building I wasn't right for the job. "But I came to a conclusion based on who I found- well, the least irritating and the most reliable." I wasn't a qualified rich-man's assistant but I was pretty sure that's not usually what you look for when giving someone a job. "Therefore, I am pleased to offer you the position."

The phone slid out of my hand and I tossed it about, trying my best not to drop it. Or hang-up. Did she really just offer me, the girl with no experience, a job that any girl in LA would give their left fake boob for? I questioned my hearing for a moment until I heard a female voice coming from the other end. "Sorry." I apologised. "I'm just surprised. I never imagined I would be...uh." I couldn't finish my sentence, still shocked by the sudden news. Maybe I'm not as socially unacceptable as I once thought. I decided not to complicate things and just be polite. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She giggled as I danced across the living room, celebrating my victory. I heard the door open behind me and saw a confused Caroline raise her eyebrow. I mouthed that I got the job and she let out a silent scream, running to the kitchen and lifting out champagne. "Your first day is on Monday. The head maid Moira will show you the ins and outs. Be there for 7am. And make sure you look presentable."

"Don't I wear a uniform?" I asked, confused. Maybe my vision of what modern day maids are is the opposite of what they actually are. Maybe I watch too much TV or have been to too many silly Halloween parties. "I mean, won't I be supplied with one? I don't really know how it works."

"Yes," she laughed and I felt my face tinge red. God, I didn't know anything of relevance. How am I supposed to last here? Why was she giving me this job again? "I was referring to your make-up and hair. Keep it natural and sophisticated. Like you were when I interviewed you." I agreed to what she asked, but a thousand thoughts came into my head about what I was supposed to do to my hair. "I think Mr. Salvatore is going to be very intrigued by you." And she hung up.

I didn't even have a second to think about the end of the phone-call because Caroline was practically on top of me the minute I set the phone down. I was too excited to care, and instead joined in on her happy girl dance. "We're celebrating!" She yelled and handed me a glass, clinking it with hers.

...

A/N: Hello again. Another story with my wee babe Lauren as the protagonist. This Lauren is a completely different Lauren to SoM and there is no connection with the stories. This is all for the amusement of me and my friend, so if things are stupid and don't make sense...don't worry your little socks because not everything in life has to be serious and articulate! As my friend is a Damon stan, he will be in this story and he will appear next chapter so persevere please!

Happy reading and review if you like. x