If you saw a sixteen year old girl walking down the street with a huge sports bag over her shoulder, what you would think? That she was pregnant and had had a huge fight with her parents? Or, perhaps that she was a stark raving loony drug addict?
Maybe so, but this was me walking down the street with a huge sports bag over my shoulder. Me being Elena Mae Crescent, but I prefer Mae for short. You see, I'm not pregnant and I'm not a stark raving loony drug addict, but I had fallen out with my parents.
Would you like to know why I'd fallen out with my parents?
Well, I'm going to tell you anyway.
Because they didn't believe in me, that's why! I was an aspiring singer, but they felt that the music business was an unreliable industry to work in. They never supported me, so I thought 'Fine! I'll go out by myself and get myself into the music business!' So, that is what I did. I left Manchester, where I used to live with them, and moved to London.
Now, I suppose you're wondering how the hell a sixteen year old girl could possibly afford to live in London, right? Well, a family friend of mine ran a hotel in London, so I decided to head there to ask, ever so nicely, for a room.
"Okay, then," I mumbled to myself, as I held out a small map of London before me. "Where the hell am I meant to go now?" I looked up from the map, then looked back down at the map, looked up from the map again, nodded to myself and carried on walking straight ahead.
I walked on for another ten minutes, before finally finding the Hotel. I looked up at the huge building, with its shiny windows and clean marble steps, which led up to the double entrance doors. I made my way up the marble steps and pushed open the double doors, walking into the lobby of the hotel. I could hear light, tinkling music in the background. The floor was marble, and I could see a few settee's in the corner. The people who were sitting in them gave me odd looks, as though I wasn't good enough to be in their hotel.
Trying to ignore the looks I was getting from people. I made my way over to the check in desk. I rang the small bell on the counter and waited for someone to come and talk to me.
"Yes?" asked a posh woman, in her mid-thirties, looking down her nose at me.
"Erm," I started, my thick Manchester accent suddenly sounding rather strange. "Is Mr. Alderton around?"
The woman behind the counter narrowed her eyes at me, suspiciously. "Why do you feel the need to speak to Mr. Alderton?" she asked, sitting back in her chair.
I narrowed my eyes at her and said, "Because I've had this overwhelming urge to talk to him for weeks, for no apparent reason, so I came all the way down from Manchester to talk to him," I watched her reaction turn from suspicion to shock and I smirked. "Will you just hurry up, woman? It's pretty important."
Looking scandalised, she hopped down from her chair and quickly walked through a door, which was just behind the counter. I could hear muffled conversation for a moment, before the woman returned to her place behind the counter, followed by a man I knew as Mr. Patrick Alderton.
I'd known Patrick for years. He was an old, old friend of my dad's. They used to go to college together and they kept in touch, but lost contact a couple of years back. I could just remember that Patrick had said something about running a hotel in London, and seeing as this hotel was called 'The Alderton' I was guessing that this was the one that he ran.
"Mae!" he cried, once his eyes had rested upon me. I smiled at him and took a few glances at the woman behind the counter. She seemed shocked, almost appalled, that her boss knew someone like me.
"Hey, Pat," I said, shaking his hand.
"What are you doing here? Are your parents around?" he asked, looking around as though he was expecting them to pop out of no where.
"Nah," I said, shaking my head slightly. "You see, that's why I've come here. We had a pretty big argument a couple of days ago, and I ended up storming out."
Patrick seemed a little shocked. Then he seemed to become confused. "Why did you come all the way down to London, though?" he asked, leaning against the check in desk.
"It's a long story," I said, waving his questions away. "I don't want to seem rude, but you don't have any spare rooms I could use, do you?"
His facial expression's softened and he nodded. Patrick checked me in on the computer, before grabbing a key and handing it to me. I smiled at him, gratefully, and I was about to say thank you, before I was interrupted by the woman behind the counter.
"Sir, this is a penthouse room. How on earth is this…girl," I took note of how she paused on 'girl', "going to be able to afford to pay for it?"
"Oh, she won't need to. She can stay here for as long as she likes for free. Think of it as a friendly gesture," he added, facing me.
My smile widened and I shook Patrick's hand once more, before thanking him again and making my way over to the lift, which was across the lobby. I pressed a button with the number '11' on it and I felt the lift start to shudder. I rested my back against the wall of the lift and sighed.
"Nice work, Mae, nice work," I muttered to myself, as I closed my eyes.