All right, chapter 3. I own nothing other than the plot. I love the reviews that you have been posting. Thanks. For those who I sent the tattoos too, did they work? Did you get what I was trying to do? It will be explained later. I just finished my half yearlies, so sorry for the delay. On with the story. Enjoy.
'This is the problem of hiding who you truly are from you parents' Rory thought as she once again dressed up for a high society party, the only thing she was looking forward to was the alcohol that she would be able to get from the open bar. She started to methodologically get ready, putting a dress that some girls would die to wear, she was just dieing to take it, it was definitely not her.
Walking down the grand staircase that was in the centre of mansion she lived in, Rory noticed her mother walking around with her grandmother. Two of the people that Rory disliked with a passion, the other two being her father and grandfather.
With a cheery fake smile Emily called her over. With a criticizing eye Rory's appearance is analysed. "You didn't need that much eye make-up Rory" Lorelai patronised, "I will wear what I want Mother, and you can do nothing about it." "Don't talk to you mother that way" came the angry reply from her grandmother, "Whatever" Rory muttered while walking away and pushing up her sleeves that covered her tattoos, not caring what people would think or say. It was her body.
Logan stopped tying his tie, listening to the bickering coming from downstairs. He wondered why they couldn't just take their own cars like his family usually do, why is it that every so often a pretend image had to be portrayed for the rest of high society to see them as a happy family? All of the high-end families put out a fake image, everyone saw through it. A knock on his bedroom door distracted him from his thoughts, reluctantly he walked over to the door, yanking open the door he was a maid, "They are ready for you Master Logan", with a sigh Logan walked out of his door, the maid closing it behind him "Thanks" came the reply.
Walking out to the back 2007 Cadillac Escalade Logan ignored the impatient looks his parents were sending his way. With a roll of his eyes, the door was opened for him and he climbed in with ease. "Really, can't you be on time once in your life?" came the annoyed greeting from his mother. Ignoring her, Logan peered out the window, trying to block out the lecture that was coming from the front of the car. How his father managed to connect the subjects of him being thirty seconds late and his resistance against working in the newspaper industry was a miracle to him, but never the less, the ranting seemed never ending. Happy to see that he was finally at Gilmore Estate, he climbed out and walk towards the front door, ignoring the press that had shown up to document the annual event, handing his jacket over to a maid, he rolled up his sleaves, glad to be rid of his parents for a few hours.
Finn looked up from the television, with a beer in his hand, as his father came prancing into the Theatre Room, Finn chuckled while looking at the hot pink shirt and fluoro green, purple polka dot tie on. "Mum's not going to like that" Finn said while laughing, "And she's not going to like you drunk before we even leave. Me on the other hand, pass me one" "Oh, because she is going to like that so much better?" came the response while a beer was chucked through the air. With a bang the door was slammed open, an immaculately dressed lady came in, with a roll of her eyes she put out her manicured hands, with looks similar to those of a young child would have while being reprimanded, the men presented the bottles. Sharing a look the men bowed their heads and apologised while walking out of the room, attempting to hide the smiles and hold in their laughter, the lady shook her head and followed the men in her life out the door.
Climbing into the family car, happy to get some quality family time, even if it is only for fifteen minutes while driving to another tortuous society party. With a laugh Finn leaned forward between his parents' seats and turned on the radio, starting the traditional fight of the stations between generations and genders. Finn sat back in his seat, looking out the window, listening to his parents plan their next holiday. Happy that his parents would never force him to do anything, Finn chimed in his opinion on the vocation destination. The Rothschilds were surprised when the valets opened the doors of the car, all of them laughing to hard from the ridiculous destinations they were talking about, a hostel was mentioned. While jumping out of the back seat Finn felt a hand grab his arm, his mother whispered into his ear with laughter in her voice, "Now, at least stay for an hour yeah? And try not to get to drunk, we don't need another table top dance, as entertaining as I find them", with a kiss on her cheek came a reply of "No guarantees". No matter how proper his mother looked, she would always speak informally.
Colin looked up from his lap top when a knock on the door of his rather large bedroom, disturbed him, before he had a chance to tell the person to enter his father's latest wife came storming in muttering about inefficient maids and inability to do their job properly, she looked up at her 'son' and then exited the room without saying anything. With a shrug of his shoulders he closed down his computer and slipped on his shoes and started to head down the stairs. As he reached the lobby of his house that could only be described as a mansion, Colin paused and observed his father sitting in a chair, his phone glued to his ear and hand, and the ditzy with bouncing of the walls, excited to go to the party, not yet used to the repetitiveness of it all yet.
Sitting in the chauffeured limousine, half way to his doom, Colin's thoughts were disrupted by a comment from his father, "You shall work in the office during the next break from school Colin". "No father" came the agitate reply, "I have no intension of becoming a lawyer, and you know this, as I have told you numerous times. I want to be an optometrist, and that is what I will do, no matter what you say or do!" "I am yoru father! I am older than you! I know what is best for you! You will do what I say! You WILL work in the office! You will be a lawyer! You will follow my footsteps and take up you position of heir to the company!" the elder yelled at his son. With a sigh of relief Colin saw that they were arriving at the party, with a muttered "Whatever" he climbed out of the car, happy to have an excuse to ignore his parents for a few hours and looking forward to the after party that always occurred after a Hartford Society parties.
The four friends met in the centre of the party, they has fulfilled their duty's as heir to their families by talking to the rest of the socialites, humouring them, without words it was decided that the next party should being and soon. The quadruplet split up to find the select few people their age that were tolerable. The teenagers slowly sneaked out as to not draw attention to their absence. Once outside the mansion, the group walked down the street and around the corner while the boys quickly took of their choking ties, undoing the stiff collars, rolling up their sleeves and removing their jackets. The girls were looking for the hidden buttons on their "society approved" dresses that would remove the large skirts and sleeves. Some were hunting around in clutches, looking for more suitable make-up. This was a routine for them all, one that they had down to a fine art due to the repetitions of it.
Turning the corner, the cars came into view, about ten of them, all ranging in size, colour, types, motor size, tire thickness, rim type and use. Some cars were street cars, society approved. Some were set up for racing. There were no motorbikes. Directions were not given; everyone knew were they were going, it was the same place they always went to relax after a society party. The four cars everyone knew so little about, pulled out of their spots, each car with two or three people in it, tires screeching, they were driving off in the opposite direction to the pub that the teenagers usually go to. Curious, a few of the other cars followed them.
The cars pulled up at a three-story house about ten minutes out of the centre of the society homes. Far enough away for parents not to know where they are, close enough to sneak back home in a moments notice. The four cars parked in the driveway, leaving the rest to find a spot on the road. The socialites who didn't belong looked at each other; extremely loud music could be heard from the inside but no one could be seen. They started to walk towards the door when two large men stepped in front of them. Crossing their arms, pulling their shirt taut, showing the outline of the guns tucked into the pants, the men ask, "Can we help you?" one of the teenagers spoke up, "We were just going inside." With a chuckle came the reply, "No, I don't think you were. Time to leave."
With a laugh, Rory walked back from watching what was unfolding outside and sat down on a couch. Taking the offered bottle from the person sitting next her, she looked around, surveying her surroundings. "So, what lecture did we all get today?" Logan and Colin replied, "Career choices". Colin continued, "I even pulled out the optometrist line. 12 shades of red!" "Man, I can wait until they find out that out bank accounts are almost as big as theirs, and we are still in school" Finn exclaimed, "And they will probably be bigger then their's by the time they find out." Logan happily added. Rory sat back, and watched the boys talk money, she acknowledged the people who greeted her as they walked past. The house was packed tonight. Pulling herself from her day dreams, she spoke up. "Ok, lets start planning the next event and Race Wars." Logan, Colin and Finn moved in closer, gesturing for other people that were sitting around them to leave them, which they did without complaining, only certain people had the rights to help plan an event.
Once again, sorry for the wait. I have two week break now. Will try to write about 3 or 4 chapters (cross fingers).
Claire