A/N: Triadwriters is MissPiony, Gemmadog and Sarahlouisek30 writing together as a little experiment to amuse ourselves and hopefully you.
We have agreed the content of this first chapter, then will take turns writing the upcoming ones. The author of a chapter will have full freedom to take the plot where she wishes, so it will be a surprise for us all how the story develops and where we have to continue from where previous chapter ended. We have different writing styles and the purpose is not to mimic each other but to use that to create a surprising and hopefully intriguing story. Some chapters may be written in passive voice, others in first person and from different persons' perspective depending on what we feel like writing. We will just see how it develops and have fun!
We have no idea yet how this will end but hope you join us to find out.
Chapter 1
How did I get myself into this mess? I'm not sure. Or wait, I am; my so-called dad used emotional blackmail, or should I say outright threats, to get me to do what he wanted, and here I am.
Tomorrow is a big day in the Dawes family because there will be a wedding, the first to take place since mum and dad tied the knot. The supposedly happy and blushing bride-to-be is none other than me. Tada! The thing is, I'm not happy. Everyone else is excited about it on some level, but when I meet my own gaze in the mirror I look pale and my green eyes radiate angst more than anything. I'm not sure I want to marry my fiancée, Artan.
A marriage arranged against the bride's will. One could think we are in some third world country or the Medieval ages, but we're not. We are in the UK, London Borrough Newham in the 21st century and yet my dad, Dave, is forcing me to do this.
To an outsider it wouldn't seem all that strange that I marry Artan. When he gave me a ring on my eighteenth birthday, we had been going out for nearly two years. We had a rocky, unromantic start of occasional unsatisfying shags, which somehow had developed into a serious relationship. After getting engaged it would seem a natural next step to get married, but already when I with some reluctance accepted that ring I knew he wasn't a 'good 'un' as me Nan use to say. Besides being a hustler mixed up in all sorts of grey zone or even illegal stuff, I suspect he already by then had cheated on me more times than I can count, but I chose to accept that as long as I didn't have downright proof. People say I'm feisty, strong willed and take no shit, yet I accepted Artan treating me like that. Maybe because he was nice to me every now and then and I desperately longed for a man to treat me nice and make me feel special because no man ever had, least of all my permanently drunken dad. So, I let Artan shit on me until he overstepped the mark that same day he had given me the ring, on my eighteenth birthday. That night, I walked in on on him shagging my mate Mary in a night club toilet booth. They didn't see me, too wrapped up in their pleasure. I backed out, humiliated and irked, walked home alone, crying. After that I tried to avoid them both. Decided that was it, I had had enough and we were over. I had too much self-respect to stay with a guy who shagged my friend on my birthday.
It turned out it wasn't so easy to break it off though because my own dad had other plans, which was surprising as he never had been a big fan of Artan. He always asked what I was doing with that Albanian Muslim instead of a genuine Brit bloke. The reason he changed his mind now was money. Or rather lack thereof. My dad has been on the dole for so long that he risked being cut off from it and get no more allowance. The prospect of no quid to spend on beer down at the local pub obviously called for desperate measures. Without asking me, dad and Artan had conjured up a plan. If I married Artan, he would help dad arrange a small "accident" involving a nail gun, just serious enough to make him entitled to sick pay. I got to hear about this plan the day I dropped at home that it was over between me and Artan. I have never seen dad so furious, and believe me I have seen him furious many times but not like this. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me hard up against the wall, shouting at me so close to my face that I could feel little droplets of spit land on my skin.
"You won't destroy this for me, you little tart! You will marry him and he will help me! You owe me that."
I have no fucking clue what he thought he had contributed with during my childhood for me to owe him anything, but his angry self-righteousness was certainly overflowing.
"I don't wanna marry him! I won't! You don't know what he has done, he's a cheating bastard." I tried to tell him, but none of it mattered to him.
"And you're a dirty slag so you make a perfect couple. You'll marry Artan or you won't be part of this family anymore."
I didn't take him seriously at first.
"I won't miss you", I spat back.
When he answered his tone was calm, low, but ice-cold, so much scarier than the shouting before.
"I promise you this Molly Dawes, if you don't marry Artan you'll never set foot in this house again. You won't see your mum, your brothers or sisters or your Nan ever again. I'm the head of this family and that is how it will be."
There was absolutely no love in the depth of his eyes, only desperation for the money and hate of the life he was trapped in and now wanted to snare me in too. I knew then he was dead serious.
I couldn't imagine a life without my sister and best friend Bella, without the little ones, mum or Nan. I loved them too much. So, despite that I cried myself to sleep that night and many nights to follow, I gave in to dad's threats. I made up with Artan even if I despised him and shunned his touch. Even if I could clearly see how my shitty little life with him would play out; loveless, poor, loads of kids that he would leave me to take care of when he was out cheating or getting pissed. I told myself I had to pay that price to keep those I loved, that even if the price was high, losing them was worse. It wasn't likely that I would have a brilliant future anyway, not with my background. As if Artan felt how detached I was, as if he knew my doubts even if he never knew I had seen him with Mary, he tried harder than ever to act the devoted boyfriend over the months that followed before the wedding. I think he has given up his little 'things on the side', he has been attentive and kind of loving, but I somehow doubt it is genuine and lasting.
Tonight, I don't know how I will be able to make it through. Not the wedding, that will be over quick enough, but the life I have to live thereafter. I sit staring into the small mirror in the room I'm still sharing with Bella and Jade and it feels like I'm going to break into pieces. Sometimes my gaze shift to the wedding dress on a hanger and can't quite grasp it is mine and I'm supposed to wear it tomorrow. It is actually beautiful, but it feels surreal that I'm getting married.
"Hey you, how are you?"
Bella, my favourite sister, closest to me in age, has entered the room and sits down next to me. She lets her fingers run through my long hair, combing it and then starts making a braid. I'm not even sure she is conscious of what she is doing, it is simply a comforting ritual we have done many times before.
"I just can't believe I'm getting married."
She stays silent for a while before she speaks again.
"You don't have to, you know."
That is where she is wrong. If I don't I will lose this, lose her. I may not be sure if I love Artan enough, but I love her enough.
"I want to." It is not a complete lie, even if the reason is all wrong, but she knows me too well.
"Why Molly? You deserve so much better. You know what he is like. He will just be another version of dad, worse maybe."
She continues to fiddle with my hair and I allow myself to enjoy the touch, so much more loving than any touch from Artan ever has been. I swallow before I'm able to speak.
"I'm marrying out of love." For you, for my family. "That is all you need to know."
She also knows me well enough to pick up the vibe that there is nothing further to be said, I'm marrying Artan tomorrow. Somehow Bella's concern has strengthened me in my decision. I can never be without her. I'm not happy when I go to bed, but I feel a calmness in my nut. My mind is made up and this is the way it's gonna be.
Yet, there is an unconvincing knot in my stomach next day. All through the morning when I get ready; carefully curl my fake blonde locks, put on makeup and finally the dress. I don't look too shabby when I'm done, but I don't look happy.
We will obviously not have a church wedding as Artan is Muslim, so we will marry at the register office. It has been decided that mum and I will take a cab there, so I will arrive in some style but the rest of the family will take the metro to save money.
I'm not used to go by car in London and watch the streets and people pass by, feeling oddly detached. Is this my city? Is today my life? It doesn't feel like it. The ride is over far too soon. Slowly I get my arse out of the cab, trying to convince myself I'm taking it slow because I at least want to look dignified but knowing it really is because I want to stall the whole thing for a few minutes longer.
Then I'm hit by something with force, it hurts and I'm knocked out of balance, easily done on high heels and the hard ground is fast approaching. 'So much for a dignified entrance', flashes through my mind. Somehow the fall is interrupted and I'm supported, steered into upright position again and find myself looking up into a pair of brown eyes belonging to a man who seems to have been both the cause of my near fall and my rescue as he is holding on to me. He is totally gobsmacking gorgeous. In addition to those eyes, there is wavy, thick, dark hair, a face which is nothing less than perfection and that perfect head is attached to broad shoulders, followed by a tall, athletic body which he on top of everything has dressed in a very sexy uniform.
My first thought is that I didn't know men like this existed for real. My second thought is a flash of hope that he is someone Bella has arranged as a very late hen surprise. That would surely be a valid reason to postpone the wedding a bit, to indulge a male stripper if your sister has gone to lengths to arrange one. My third thought is not as much a thought as my senses registering that the palms of his large hands are still placed firmly around my waist after balancing me. Solid. Strong. Warm. Electrifying. His gaze wanders down my body, I see his eyebrows raise as he seems to register that I'm in wedding attire. His eyes shift back to my face, but instead of the apology that could be expected for nearly running down a bride, his face twists into an almost furious expression.
"Only fools get married! Either the wedding day ends in disaster or there's a divorce down the lane anyway. Why don't you save yourself from that misery?" he blurts out.
Now, this provokes me.
"Maybe I happen to love him very much." No need for this gorgeous but rude tosser to know that is far from true.
"Then I pity you even more, because then you're the one who will get hurt."
Now I almost feel motivated to marry Artan just to prove him wrong.
"You bumped into me, hard, so it hurt and I almost tripped over. That gives you no right what so ever to tell me if it's right or wrong to get married. You don't know me. You don't know him."
He stares at me, looking almost wild. Maybe he is a lunatic on the run. That would explain the excentric uniform and why he seems a bit out of breath even if he looks so fit. He exhales a big sigh and rakes his fingers through his hair.
"You're right. I don't know you and I don't have any right to interfere with your life. I hope you are doing what is right for you and that you'll be happy."
It isn't an apology but nearly. Only now does he seem to register that he still holds me and quickly lets go. Pity. I already miss the touch though I shouldn't. I'm pretty sure by now he isn't a stripper Bella has arranged but I have to make sure so I don't miss out on anything.
"You're not a stripper, are you?"
"What?"
"What with the uniform and being all fit, I thought my sister might have put you up to this."
"Right before your wedding?"
"You never know with my family."
He shakes his head, tongue in cheek and suddenly looks amused instead.
"I can promise you I'm not a stripper, this uniform is real."
His amusement seems to increase when I'm unable to keep my disappointment from my face.
"You should ask your husband instead."
"What?"
"To strip for you tonight. After all he is the one you'll be having sex with for the rest of your lives."
Hadn't thought of that. Not that fidelity has seemed important to Artan in the past but maybe it will be now that we are married. Will be married, we're not yet. Anyway, our sex life definitely has room for improvement. Probably it would be much improved if he wasn't in the bed. He is too focused on his own pleasure and I'm not that attracted to him.
"You look absolutely thrilled. Sure you want to marry this guy?" Challenging he cocks an eyebrow. Now, this guy is extremely attractive. I'm sure adding him in my bed would be an improvement even if he also is extremely annoying.
Suddenly I feel like crying.
"Bugger off", I whisper and bite my lower lip because I feel there is a risk it might start to tremble. I'm not a crier, I'm hard as nails and crying before this man is the last thing I want.
His expression shifts to one of concern and his dark brown eyes bores into me in a way which is almost too much to take.
"Everything alright, luv?"
Mum has finally sorted paying the cab driver using all the coins which she this morning took from the blue tin she keeps hidden from dad in a kitchen cupboard. The driver didn't look best pleased when she started counting them carefully, not to pay him too much.
"Yeah, this prannet just nearly ran me down and is nothing but rude, but yeah, I'm alright."
I sniffle. Shit.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Must he sound so sincere and suddenly caring?
"Well you did, so I suggest you run along and do whatever you're supposed to do in that bloody uniform..." Shitting hot uniform. "... mind your business and I'll mind mine."
He gives me one last stare, this time not hard, but searching and strangely soft which somehow makes my stomach twist, then he nods as if accepting something, turns and strides away.
Half shocked I just watch him go. Shocked over his appalling rudeness to a bride. Shocked over the attraction said bride feels to him despite the rudeness. Shaken by the way he has challenged me getting married. Probably because my own doubts are growing by the minute. Until death do us part. Is my family worth that sacrifice?
"Should we go in then? Everyone is waiting."
That is exactly what scares the shit out of me.
A/N: MissPiony was holding the pen for this first chapter. Gemmadog is up next and I can't wait to see where her imagination takes this.
Pleased if you let us know what you think.
xxx