flops in another 1000 years late with starbucks in hand
Yeaaaaaaaahhh...I can explain. But hey, at least I'm actually starting to post something!
The reason why I haven't posted this chapter up for a while is because...well, I want this to be in sync with the deviantArt and tumblr posting schedule, and the prologue had a headstart on here.
Don't worry, I'm going to start posting chapters 1-10 every week before I have to take a break and write some more. A girl has to be prepared.
Eddsworld belongs to the respective owners, I only own the story and most of the characters.
P.S. Keep an eye out for certain references throughout the chapters. When you find them, leave a review!
EDIT: I completely forgot to mention this last week, but I also have an Eagle's Cross playlist, and certain songs will correspond to certain chapters. It may be the one chapter, it may be multiple, it may even be a part of a chapter. This chapter has the song of Boardwalks by Little May.
16 years later…
Emily can't stop hugging me as I pack away my clothes and personal belongings into the massive, old and heavy bags that mum calls 'luggage.' An oddly comfortable term, but if it were me, I'd probably name it the lovechild of a handbag and the TARDIS.
"Cor," Em pouts, "I'm gonna miss you!"
"Em, we can still see each other," I reassure her, "I'm only in that place for two months and we have more than over a million ways of keeping contact."
"But it'll be so weird though!"
"What, me taking a break from the delivery business?" I tease her. That's what we nickname our families' job, at home or out and about. It's a comparatively lighter name than the business that Em and I were born into: Cola-smuggling.
Ever since cola and every other fizzy drink was banned around the world in 2030, almost everyone back then set up underground businesses and still kept the stuff spread easily on the black markets. But to cut a long story short, someone ratted out most of those businesses to the police and as of now, there are only five groups left who supply fizzy drinks to the world, our families being two of them.
Em's family, Brock, is the supplier on all those diet drinks for all who don't want that extra sugary taste. This includes diet cola, diet Pepsi, diet lemonade, the whole gist in diet, really.
My family, the Goulds (and a few of my Ridgewell, Hargraves and Larsson cousins who allied with us), are the suppliers of actual Coca-Cola, my great-grandfather Edward II having obtained the secret recipe soon after the ban.
There's also the other three groups who supply Pepsi cola, lemonades and fizzed water respectively, but we actually rarely get any shipments or information from them, let alone know who the people behind those branches are. Dad says the less we know about them, the less to reveal to the law if it ever comes to the worst-case scenario.
I love cola, I do, but I hate the business of smuggling it. Most days I wish that it wasn't banned, and that you wouldn't be thrown into prison if you were caught drinking it. But since most of my cousins' families work FOR the law, knowing that someone you love and trust could be able to throw you and your family behind bars in a split second is beyond intimidating for anxiety-ridden me.
I slip my medication and toiletries in the front pocket of my largest piece of luggage before I zip the now-full bag with finality. I then give Em a hug that lasts a while for last time in my bedroom...the last time for two months, that is. When we stop and open our eyes, I see tears threatening to spill down her face as she clenches her jaw.
"Oh Em," I reassure her, "Don't be so sad."
"I'm not, it's just...God, I don't know what it is, but it hurts!"
I brush away loose strands of hair behind her ear with my finger.
"Em," I whisper, "It'll be okay. You gotta trust me on this. It's gonna do me a lot of good. Kay?"
She nods, wiping her tears away with a fist and hugs me again before helping with getting the bags out the bedroom and into the street. The taxi is there waiting for me in low hover mode, driver Jasper ter Voorde, an old family friend, glances at me while he sucks at his cigarette.
"Does Cora really have to go?" I hear Laurie pouting at the pod-home door, "I can't handle school and delivery at the same time!"
'Neither could I, Laurie,' I think, 'And I don't get why dad thinks otherwise.'
"Yes you can!" Our dad, who is next to her, insists, "Cora did it and she's still alive!"
Barely, dad. I'm barely alive from the toll this business has taken on me.
Em probably reads my thoughts, because she yells back at the two of them, Brooklyn accent shining through:
"Oi! She can hear ya, ya know!"
I can't stop stealing glances at Em as she helps me lift my luggage into the taxi boot. She's the closest person who I can truly relate to apart from my siblings, and one of the reasons why I love her as my best friend is because she seems to handle life and the business easier than I do.
"You done yet darl?" Jasper asks with a hint of impatience. I slam down the boot and hug Em, dad and Laurie one last time before stepping into the taxi backseat. As I shut the door, Laurie comes over, looking worried. I wind down the window to let her talk.
"Is dad right in saying that you managed to handle business and school on your own?"
I shake my head, my expression solemn, "But you know what I learned?"
"What?"
"Keep your chin up in front of the giants and let yourself loose when with close friends or yourself. Cry if you have to during the loose times, but always keep an eye on the long run and stare into it like you're going to murder Captain America. That clear?"
"As crystal. I guess I can survive two months."
"I know you can."
I hope so.
I wind the window back up as the taxi takes off down the streets of the pod suburb and into an unfamiliar landroad as the hovercars soar above us on the airways.
Soon enough I feel the taxi gently land onto the tarmac after the wheels are outwards and the hover is turned off, the car practically gliding calmly on the landroads. Through the whole two-hour drive to the family home, I'm either staring out at the unfamiliar sights of London from below or my familiar reflection in the plexiglass window.
Not that the both of them are what I'd say comforting. Especially my reflection.
Every time I stare at my translucent face in the window, I'm momentarily at peace by the sight of the green hoodie, glasses and heterochromic brown-and-blue eyes before I am nervous at the streak of red in my brown hair. Not even a two-month break from cola-smuggling can make me forget my ties to the business and my family by that red lock of hair that screams it out to the world.
I always want its colour to fade away, to forget that the Goulds (and my cousins) were ever a part of cola smuggling, but my dad has a keen eye. If he sees my streak starting to blend in with the rest of my hair, it has to be re-dyed. And that's an order.
Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and he's a pretty funny guy, in or out of business, and he pays for a lot of things with his own money when we try to use our own, but he tends to keep work closer than his family. Then there's also the few and far between days where his frustration gets the best of him. My eldest brother Jaxx thinks that there's something in dad's personal cache of cola that makes him more committed to the business than the family. Me? I don't see much logic in it, but I wouldn't be one bit surprised if it were confirmed.
Eventually the taxi makes it to a neighbourhood with two rows of old yet pretty houses, the somewhat faded colours still managing to cheer up the place. Jasper then slows it down to a stop in front of a house with faint creamy walls and a roof and door with a shade of red that must've been beautiful once. Unlike the rest of them, this one seems to be well-kept, a point of evidence being the front lawn not being overgrown. (The case is oddly similar to the green house on the left.)
"Here we are kid," he announces, "27 Durdum Lane. My old pop Paul told me many things about this place before he died, so my old man says."
"How old were you when he passed?" I quickly regret asking as I see a solemn look on his face as I help him pull my luggage from the boot.
"Just a tot. Three years."
"...I shouldn't have asked."
"It's fine, kid," he shrugs as the empty boot is slammed shut, "And don't worrying about paying me either. Your old man covered that for ya."
"He does this sort of thing too much," I blurt my thoughts out, momentarily forgetting that Jasper's there before I hear his amused scoff.
"Pfft. I'm with you. But I'd be the same with that situation and amount of dough. That delivery service has been standing strong for the past few decades."
It's my turn to let out an amused scoff as he hands me the keys to the house in an envelope, giving me a hug before heading back into the taxi and driving off.
I stare at the taxi flying into the sky until it is only a tiny dot disappearing into the clouds. I then put on a confident face and glare at the house as I pull my luggage through the smooth pavement pathway leading to the door. I'm not angry at it, it's just that glaring at something that intimidates me has become a coping mechanism and a way to build my confidence.
When I open the envelope to retrieve the keys and unlock the door, I can't help but pull out the letter inside.
'Sup Cora! We've worked a long while to restore this place to its former glory and whoo! It's been a lot of hard work!
'Of course, dad has paid for all the costs of fixing this place up, but we've delved into our own pocket money to add a few upgrades to the place!
'Also, keep an eye out for weird happenings or whatnot. Eddie here thinks that the house is haunted, but that may be mid-renovation stress setting in and going through his system.
'We've added unlimited internet connection and TV reception to this place, although the actual TV is total crapola and only plays static. Hope you get a new one in soon, haha.
'Hope you enjoy your break!
'Love, Ed and Ell.
'P.S. the green house on the left is Emily's family home, and we had some reno there too! Maybe you'll be next door neighbours~'
I smile as I place the letter back into the envelope and step into the house, pulling in my bags before shutting the door behind me. Maybe it's from reading that letter, but I can't help but grin as I hang around the lounge and kitchen areas, the red of the carpet in the living room reminding me of mum's special red velvet hot chocolate in the mornings of our birthdays.
I've fallen in love with the place already. I surely need more than two months break to get used to living here. But I can't shake the curious growing feeling that something big is going to happen sooner or later, and it's in the house. I'm not too sure how I came to that hunch, but I can't explain everything in life, can I?
I guess it's a Goulden thing.
Aaaaaaaaaand that's a wrap for chapter one! See you all later with chapter two in hand!
Constructive criticism is accepted, and reviews are too!