AN: This is my first story, so if it needs some work, you know why:) Reviews would make my day, and I appreciate anyone to point out spelling mistakes, ect. I do not own Misfits, or the orginial characters; all rights go to the producers. Kat and Jay, are my characters though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! xx
P.S - I'll upload the next chapter if this one becomes successful!
The first thing I noticed was the dismality of the community centre, the irrelevance people branded the place with. I felt a small pang of sympathy for the building that just wanted to bring the community together. Well, that was the initial idea, I guess.
"Fucks sake, why won't this fucking machine work?"
I jumped at the sudden outburst, even though my brother had been shaking the vending machine furiously for the past 10 minutes. He kicked it for good measure and then turned to me, his eyebrows furrowed.
"This piece of shit, just took three pounds of me!" He told me, like I hadn't heard his little fits of outrage earlier.
"Tell someone who works here?" I suggested. He nodded sarcastically and put on a face of mock wonder, "yeah, and I suppose you've seen someone, have you?"
When I didn't answer, he continued with significance, "there's nobody fucking here, and nobody's going to show up. I told you this was all bullshit!"
I looked around helplessly, hoping with my last grounded trust, somebody would just walk out. Anyone.
As presumed, the silence greeted me coldly.
"I did tell you." He replied.
"But the letter seemed so genuine," I mused, "and you must have thought so too otherwise you wouldn't have came here with me."
His smug expression was wiped clean and replaced with a rattled frustration, "No! You persuaded me. I wasn't going to come, I was originally going out with..." he paused, clicking his fingers for a name.
I sighed, "Chloe? Or was it Jessica?"
"No, Chloe was last week. But Jessica –poor Jessica, I was originally going with her, and now she'll be heartbroken 'cos I'm not there!"
"You didn't even call it off?" It sounded a lot like him, but this was a new low. I wondered numbly, why I had to be related to him.
"Well, no- I can't be dealing with all the girl tears. And anyway, this is yourentire fault."
"Idiot."
He raised his eyebrows, trying to unnerve me, "Hey, kid, respect your elders."
I looked away, trying to unsuccessfully show him he couldn't intimidate me. It wasn't too bad though, having Nathan for a brother. I mean, he was protective.
No, actually there were no good points at all.
I heard the slow creek of the main doors open, and I turned, half relieved, half curiosity.
A mixed race guy, younger than Nathan and about the same age as me, walked in. His clothes looked high-street, and he had a set of expensive looking headphones, hanging round his neck. Based on the 4'o'clock shadow, it was hard to trace his features, but I could see he had a distasteful look on his face. His eyes drank in everything, like the place was completely foreign to him.
Then his eyes landed upon us, and a play of emotions ran across his face. He casually walked over, running a hand through his hair.
"Are you here for this meeting? Something to do with our parents?" He talked clearly and coolly, not at all intimidated by new company. Confidence radiated of off him.
Unfortunately, it did for Nathan too.
"Yeah. So, which one's your screw-up of a parent?"
I winced at his naturally modest ways. Anything, anything at all would have been better than what he had said, and I couldn't have felt more embarrassed.
The mixed race guy's face contorted in anger. He stepped up near Nathan, and I could see that their heights weren't much different. And Nathan was 6 foot 3.
"Don't you be talking 'bout my dad like that." He hissed. Nathan seemed unaffected, and raised his hands up innocently, "hey, it's okay. All our parents are screw-ups. Embrace the-"
The guy leapt on him, ready to take a serious blow. I could see the defined muscle beneath his jacket and automatically, I tried to pull them both apart. Surprisingly, he let me rip him away from my brother who was momentarily laughing and trying to get up off the floor.
Right there and then, I could have killed that stupid pig of a sibling, I swear I could.
The guy brushed himself down, looked at me, and then at Nathan.
"Who's he?" He asked me, gesturing in obvious disdain to the floor.
"The name's Nathan, mate-"
"Nathan Jr." I spoke over my brother flatly, "he's my... brother." I almost winced at the relation.
"Nathan Jr?" The guy snorted.
"Look, my dad named me after him, okay? And anyway, it's Nathan. Just Nathan." He said, offended, and standing.
"Right. Sorry you're related to thatdickhead." He replied, the dickhead meaning Nathan, and tiredly stook out his hand, "I'm Jay. Curtis Donavon's my dad."
I was alarmed at the sudden way he acted civil, but shook his hand anyway. "I'm Kat."
"Well since we're being all fancy with our names, her name's actually Katie-"
"It's Kat." I repeated.
"Kat, right." Jay nodded. I was especially pleased to see that he had ignored Nathan's comment.
He hitched a ride on the chair next to me, while Nathan leant onto the vending machine.
"So what's your dad like?" he asked Jay skeptically, arms folded.
"Uh, like a normal dad? Let's me do whatever I want though, like he's not too bothered what I do." He answered bluntly. He reached into his pocket for his phone, and then began texting, like we wasn't here. Conversation over.
I awkwardly began pulling the loose thread at the hem of my coat sleeve, careful to not look up at either one of the boys. I imagined Nathan might have said something upon the lines of, "and what are you looking at, pervert?"
Finally, Jay leant back in his chair and sighed heavily. Maybe he didn't want to be here? Even though he only arrived here less than 5 minutes ago. How long was it since Nathan and I showed up? I checked the time on my phone. The clock read a sturdy 4:03pm. Half an hour? Honestly?
"When does this whole conference shit start, anyway?" Nathan murmured to me.
"It was supposed to start at quarter to 4."
"About if someone got us all here, so they could kill us?"
Jay shook his head, close-minded, "in a community centre? Sounds likely."
"Oh come on, if I was trying to kill someone," he made a gesture with his arms; "this would be perfect. Add a few machine guns, and it'd be good to go!"
"You know, I remember my dad talking about your dad. He said he was the biggest twat he's ever met."
Nathan seemed impenetrable, and smiled dazedly. "Yeah. I'm like him in many ways."
"Prick," Jay muttered under his breath.
I held the urge to nod in agreement with Jay.
Nathan was a younger version of our dad, period. The same characteristics: arrogant, strong-humoured, loud and constantly optimistic. When they got along, you could see the connection, thriving in the air, and when they had arguments, neither backed down. To say that fact that Nathan Young wasn't strictly speaking Nathan Jr.'s dad (Mum doesn't know who Nathan's dad actually is) it was bizarre how the two were practically identical, personality wise. Although, Nathan always said that he was glad he hadn't inherited dad's hair, like I had. Nathan Young was mydad, through blood and DNA.
"So, let me get this straight," Nathan continued, a hint of humour in his voice, "some twat, has gotten all the ASBO shithead's fucked up kids together, for a prank?"
Jay and I remained quiet. But where were the other people? Dad had told us about a Kelly woman; did she have kids? If all the people whose parents had community service in the date specified on the letter were supposed to be here, where were they? Were there any more Dad hadn't told us about? Only three people having community service in that year seemed odd.
Nathan laughed wildly, "oh this is classic. Bravo, well done you fucking cunt!" he called to nobody.
Jay stood up, "I have places to be. I'm going, fuck this."
"Yeah, I have a girl who I will hopefully shag awaiting me." Nathan yawned, and nodded toward the door, "you coming, curly?"
I stood up and followed the two toward the entrance, unnerved at the turn of events.
And then the doors flung open.
