A/N Life caught up with me. This chapter is for my two followers who are surprisingly still here after all these months.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything except OCs.
Tickets secured, public transport navigated a bit more successfully this time round. It was now time to navigate the dragon's lair that is my cramped semi-detached house. I share it with my 'lovely' sister Isabella, my annoying younger brother Tunde and the dragon herself my conservative( slightly crazy) grandmother.
The problem you see with my house is that its in central London bingo which equates to noise 24/7 .I like to think it's a bit romantic a bit like living in Grimmauld place from Harry Potter, in reality it is just a very annoyingly tall building with too many stairs , five flights of wooden stairs. This is normally not a problem unless you are trying to sneak in to or out of the house at any time of the day. You can rest assured that creaking wooden steps will give you away in an instant.
I had nearly made it to my room 20 steps and counting when I made the fatal error of leaving my phone on loud. Curse you facebook updates..
"BOLA!?"
Crap caught in the act.
"Yes coming, Grandma"
"Someone didn't do the dishes last night go do them now, And why aren't you dressed what time do you call this? How will you ever find a nice husband?"
Ignoring her last statement, I trudged back downstairs I observed the complete mess we call a kitchen, Eurgh I wish my parents were here. They're not dead or anything dramatic like that, they're just on holiday in Ibiza and think my siblings and I need more bonding time with our grandmother from hell.
She's one of those strict African grandmas that complain about the weather all day long and listens to incoherent African TV at all hours. And she insists on calling me Bola when no one calls me that not even my parents my name is Caprice Bola Aida, initialed to CBA bit of a cruel joke.
I mean I love my African roots and all but hot damn I am so glad I am half-Italian as well because I could not deal with this causal slave labor on both sides of the family.
Dishes done, speaking of excellent things that are occurring ,its now less that in 4 hours to the afternoon matinee so I better holla at my friend Hannah to come round before the show.
A bit later on.
"Do you think this will make me to stand out from the crowd" Hannah said adjusting her mini skirt in the mirror.
"Mate, its a dark theatre it makes no difference what you wear"
I'm wearing my usual off duty denim jacket and boots. I hate skirts.
Hannah and I have this ritual before we go out anywhere. She has low self-esteem issues for no viable reason so needs constant encouragement that she looks good of course she does she's 5 foot 7, perfect height in my opinion and has nice wavy blond hair.
"You look great Hannah"
Myself on the other hand I'm 5 foot 11, and have got misbehaving hair. I know I should feel blessed about my height, it does get a bit tiring when every conversation starter goes along the line of "wow you are so tall"
But I digress…
"Come on lets go I want to have drinks before the show starts!"
Off to the theatre we go, what could possibly go wrong.
A/N Caprice is italian for unpredictable I believe.
A/N Loki's POV coming up, will try to do justice.
