Kirsty collected her luggage from the carousel and made her way over to the taxi her father had arranged to pick her up. She felt alone and scared. America was such a big place and here she was 20 years of age relying on someone she hasn't seen for 9 years. She climbed into the cab, which took her zooming past her new hometown. She wasn't happy, anyone could tell that. Pulling out her ipod (a gift her father sent her for Christmas) she began listening to green day. The cab halted at an arena. Kirsty was confused. Her dad has said nothing about meeting up at an arena. She went to go pay the cab driver, realising the only money she had was British Pounds. The cab driver smiled, telling her that her father had already paid him. He passed her a pass and told her to go up to a security guard and tell him whom she wanted to see and she'd be taken to him. Kirsty climbed out of the cab, collected her luggage from the trunk and walked over to the door. Stood in front of her was a man about 6' 2 dressed in black.
"E…excuse me, I'm looking for a Mr Layfield"
