I know it's been six months since I updated this story! And I am so sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I've just been up to my neck in school work ya know. But I'm back if you guys are still interested and don't hate me too much. I'll try my hardest to update as regularly as I can.
Anyway, I'm starting this chapter off with Jade's point of view. I know you've all been wondering what my plans are for her.
Also, I've created a google drive album filled with pictures to give you a general idea of what the cast looks like in this story, including the OC characters. To view the album, go to my profile and you'll find the link there.
That's all peeps, enjoy the story.
Chapter song: Sweet Pea—Amos Lee
Miami FL
~Jade~
...
"Hi, my name is Jade West. I have an appointment with Mr Kovalski at eleven-thirty."
Interrupted from her texting, the secretary, who looked no older than sixteen, scowled up at Jade, "sure, whatever. Have a seat."
Jade raised an eyebrow, surprised that someone as notorious as Abraham Kowalski would hire someone as young and unprofessional as this girl to be his secretary. She didn't bother to question the girl however and took a seat adjacent to the producer's office.
Filled with anticipation, Jade tapped her fingertips against her cup of coffee as she stared at the office door, script in her lap. She tried to focus on trying to keep her mind blank so that she wouldn't start overthinking things, but she was finding that extremely difficult considering she'd gotten zero sleep last night and was currently acquiring all of her energy from nothing but black coffee since the day she received the phone call from the major producer requesting to interview her after seeing her play 'All In Favour.'
There was a 'pop' and to accompany the already irritating sound of the baby-faced secretary's texting, she began obnoxiously feasting on a sandwich like she hadn't eaten for weeks and stinking out the place with the stench of tuna fish. Jade's eyes moved resentfully to the oblivious woman just as she dropped a clump of the filling on her blouse, before scooping it up with her fingers and eating it.
Jade fought back the urge to say something, remembering exactly where she was and who would be interviewing her in just—she glanced at her watch—two minutes.
Her hand was now beginning to shake so much that she could hear the coffee in her cup sloshing around when she brought it to her lips. This was a very big deal and the outcome could change her life for the better, she couldn't let her nerves fuck with her.
Moments later, the door swung open to reveal a tall blond man wearing round frameless glasses and a blazer. He turned up his nose at the smell of his secretary's tuna sandwich and said, "Klara! I have told you many times not to eat your lunch in my office, it's unprofessional and you are making the place smell like a brothel!"
"Sorry Uncle Abe—I mean, Mr Kowalski. I forgot," said Klara at once, enclosing her sandwich inside a Tupperware container.
"Yes well, I might just forget about your paycheque if you continue like this," he walked toward her, sighed and placed twenty dollars on the desk, "here, go buy yourself some real lunch in town."
Klara's beamed and thanked him before disappearing into the elevator.
Mr Kowalski turned to Jade with a warm smile, "Miss West, it is lovely to see you, please come in."
Jade gave a small nod and followed him, swallowing thickly.
"I apologise if my niece seemed a little bit impolite, she's on work experience, another week and she'll be off my hands. Anyone who decides to employ her has to be insane, I'd sooner have a chimp working for me than a teenager," he explained, throwing himself onto his chair.
Jade chuckled, and placed herself on the seat before him, crossing her right leg over her left.
"Anyway, let's get down to business," said the producer, folding his arms on top of his desk and leaning forwards, "now before we discuss the subject of the play. I like to know the person I'm working with, so...tell me about yourself."
"Okay, well I'm twenty-three, I've been living here in Miami for five years and just graduated from University with a master's in screenwriting but before that, I lived in Los Angeles where I attended Hollywood Arts."
"Hollywood Arts eh? I've heard great things about that school."
Jade pursed her lips, "yeah...I uh, had a great time there, met some great people."
"And I assume you keep in touch with those people?" He asked.
"Yeah we're all really close," She lied, "so about my play...?"
Mr K chuckled heartily, "of course, your play. I must admit, it simply blew me away Miss West. I happened to come across the reviews online and decided to see for myself what all the hype was about, I was certainly not disappointed," he gestured to the script on her lap, "and I see you've brought the script with you which is quite convenient because I would like to make you an offer that you would have to be crazy to refuse..."
.
.
Jade drove as fast as she possibly could without breaking any laws, her head swam with euphoria as she pulled into the driveway of her dad's house and scrambled out of her car, almost tripping over the doorstep in her haste to tell her dad the news.
She rang the doorbell at least ten times before he finally answered the door.
"Well?" He prompted, raising an eyebrow in a very West-like manner.
"Can't you tell by the way I just mashed your doorbell?" Jade told him, and the happiness radiating from her told him all he needed to know.
A look of astonishment took over Mr West's face followed by a grin and he pulled his daughter into a tight hug, "honey I'm so proud of you!"
"Thanks, dad."
Martin pushed her away gently and looked at her seriously, "I've worried about you for so long but now it seems to me that it was all for nothing. After everything you've been through you've managed to take the bull by the horns and it's so hard to express how proud I am of you right now, baby girl."
Jade smiled at him with glossy eyes and was just about to respond when,
"Mommy, you're home!"
A little boy with long chestnut brown locks made a bee-line toward Jade, wrapping his arms tightly around her legs. Jade's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she looked down at him, "Jasper?" she looked back up at her dad, "what is he doing here? And why isn't he in school?"
"That's what we need to discuss. Come in and sit down, you've had a stressful morning, I'm sure." Martin said, wandering into the living room. Jade took her son's hand and followed her dad into the living room where they sat down on black leather couches, the same ones Jade owned in her own place.
"He's not sick is he?" Jade asked, pressing the back of her hand against Jasper's forehead.
"No, there was an incident with some glue, the school couldn't reach you so they called me to go pick him up."
Jade felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She'd turned off her phone so that the interview wouldn't be disrupted, "Glue?"
"I poured some in Mason's hair," Jasper said, from beside Jade.
Jade closed her eyes and sighed, "Okay, and just why did you pour glue in this Mason's hair?"
"Cos he was makin' fun of mine and bein' a meanie! He said I looked like a girl!" Jasper pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching.
"Well, you were defending yourself then. I don't see why they had to—"
"Jade," Martin warned.
"What? Maybe if this Mason kid was taught not to act like a little grunch—"
"He's a child, Jade."
"So is Jasper."
"You really shouldn't praise bad behaviour."
"Are you calling me a bad mother?" Jade barked, accusingly.
"No, not at all," Martin condemned. "I just think he needs to apologize to Mason for his actions."
"But Grandpa...!" Jasper argued.
"The kid brought it on himself. And if anything, I think Jasper taught him a very important life lesson. You play with fire, you get burned," Jade stood up and prompted her son to do the same, "now come on Jasper, we're getting ice cream. Mommy just sold her script."
Manhattan, NY
~Robbie~
He'd never seen her like this before.
Robbie was seeing the complete opposite of Cat Valentine, and it was unsettling.
Since the day she found out about Chris's suicide, she'd been staying in bed all day, not talking. She was so crushed that the producers of the Broadway show she'd been starring in had no choice but to replace Cat's character with her understudy. Robbie thought anything would be better than the barely there state his girlfriend was currently in, he just wished she would show some kind of emotion. Anger or sadness...anything but this!
"Cat, I made you some of Grandma Shapiro's chicken noodle soup," Robbie announced as he entered the dark, vampire-den like bedroom carrying a tray of steaming soup, "Cat...?"
"Not hungry, "she mumbled, voice muffled against the pillows.
"Kitty, come on now. You need to eat. You haven't had anything all day and it's past noon."
"I don't care," she said, barely even audible.
"Well I do, and I'm sorry but I can't watch you fester in your bedroom anymore," he placed the tray of food on top of their drawers and stalked across the room to pull the curtains apart. Daylight exploded inside the bedroom and Cat hissed, throwing her pillow over her head to block out the blinding light.
He ignored her, "I was thinking we could head to that new indoor laser tag place that just opened, or maybe go out to dinner, or—"
"My brother is dead, Robbie," she whimpered, sniffling.
His face fell, "I know. And I wish there was something I could do take all of your pain away, trust me."
"Well, there is one thing you could do for me."
"There is?" Robbie asked, hopefully.
Cat sat upright, tears spilling down her face as she reached out for him. Robbie smiled and climbed onto the bed before gathering her up in his arms and planting kisses on the side of her head. They laid down together, and Cat sobbed into the crook of his neck. She cried until her energy slowly disappeared until she could only whimper, and then after a few moments her breathing evened out and she went back to silence again.
Robbie's eyes fell onto the picture beside the abandoned soup. It was of himself, Cat and the rest of their friendship group back during their H.A days. He and Cat often wondered what they were all up to these past five years. It was sad that they'd all drifted apart, but he supposed it they all had their own dreams to pursue, their own lives to get on with. He knew Tori was doing very well for herself in her singing career, in fact, everybody knew her name now. Beck was on that popular medieval fantasy TV show 'Dark Swords'. As for Jade and Andre, they hadn't the slightest clue what they were up to nowadays but he hoped they were both okay and doing well. Cat would often say how much she missed them, especially Jade whom she'd been the closest to.
And that's what gave Robbie the idea. He knew he couldn't take away her grief, but maybe if he tried to find out where Jade was and inform her about Cat's loss, she might just be able to give her that extra boost and help her to get through it. It was a shot in the dark, for Jade's absence in their lives had been the longest and it might be difficult to find out where she went after she didn't turn up to graduation.
But he was so desperate to make Cat feel a bit better, he was willing to anything.
Los Angeles CA
~Andre~
It was two in the morning, Charlie was crying again and Vanessa had been gone for almost a week now.
For the fifth time that night, Andre pulled the sheets off his body, rubbed his exhausted eyes, stumbled out of his bedroom and into his daughter's. She was clinging to the top of the crib, face flushed red with tears, bouncing up and down in frustration.
"Dadadada." She hiccoughed.
"You just ain't gonna let me take five minutes off are you, baby girl?" Andre sighed, reaching down and picking the fussy one-year-old up. He sat down with her in the rocking chair and reached for the pacifier that was clipped to her onesie. She spat it out right away and continued to cry.
He knew exactly why she was acting up. It was her mom that she wanted, not him. But his poor little girl couldn't possibly understand that she'd turned her back on them, there one day and then gone the next. This past week had been the hardest week of his life, and it was getting worse. He could tell that Charlie was becoming more and more confused as each day went by and it was hurting Andre's heart.
He knew Vanessa was having difficulties coping as a mother, but never did he think she could do something like this. Sure, the pregnancy hadn't been planned and they hadn't even been together when she found out she was having Charlie but he didn't think that she regretted giving her life. Andre had sincerely believed that Vanessa loved their daughter and would never do anything to hurt her.
And just when he thought they were finally figuring the whole co-parenting thing out, he was proved wrong.
Charlie arched her back, screaming and screaming. Andre pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes to gather his thoughts, soon giving up on the rocking chair when an idea sprung to his mind. He placed the screaming baby back down in the crib.
Kissing her fluffy hair, Andre placed the screaming baby back down in the crib.
"Chill your beans, I'll be right back," he told her, rushing out of her bedroom and then back into his own to grab his guitar from its stand.
When he re-entered his daughter's pink butterfly themed room, her wails ceased to stare at Andre's guitar, her lower lip poking out. Andre sat back on the rocking chair and scratched the inside of his ear in an attempt to stop the ringing.
Charlie was just beginning to start round two when Andre cut her off mid-cry, strumming his guitar and creating a slow but upbeat tune.
"Sweet pea, apple of my eye. Don't know when and I don't know why. You're the only reason I keep on coming home..."
Charlie was watching him curiously now, her big brown eyes flickering from his fingers which moved fluidly across the string board and then back to his face which was full of concentration.
"Sweet pea, what's all this about? Don't get your way all you do is fuss and pout..."
Andre made a pouty face at Charlie prompting a heart-warming smile to light up her tear-stained face.
"But you're the only reason I keep on coming home..."
After a few more verses, Andre finally managed to get Charlie to lie down and sleep. Relief washed over him as he slowly and cautiously stood up from the chair, switched off the light and tiptoed back to his own bed.
The silence embraced him like a warm hug and Andre fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
...
What seemed like just minutes later, even though it was now seven-thirty-six, Andre woke with a jolt.
Someone was banging on the door.
As fast as he could, Andre scrambled out of bed and rushed toward the door, willing Charlie to stay asleep. He didn't see the toy duck lying in the middle of the floor and was sent flying with a squeak and boom as he landed ungracefully on his backside.
Hissing in pain Andre found his feet and yanked on the door, livid.
"What the chiz do you think you're doing! Rapping on my door at this time—Oh! Mr Jones."
Andre's heart sank, he could've predicted the man's next words.
"Mr Harris I have given you many warnings yet still I continue to receive noise complaints from this floor," said Mr Jones, monotonously.
"I understand sir..."
"Normally, I do not permit tenants under twelve to take up residence in my apartment block but I made an exception for you and your wife. You seem like a reasonable couple. However, I also need to consider the wellbeing of my other tenants."
Andre ignored Mr Jones' use of the word 'wife', too worried about the matter at hand to correct the man.
He rubbed his face stressfully, "how long are you going to give us to pack our stuff?"
"Until three o'clock this afternoon."
"Okay, well. I'd better make a start then."
Mr Jones gave a nod, "I wish you and your wife the best, Mr Harris."
Andre couldn't close the door fast enough, muttering a string of profanities under his breath as he leant back on the door and slid down it slowly. He groaned and placed his head in his hands.
"What have you done to us, Vanessa...?"