Parties. I lived for them. Alcohol and smoking are two of the things I do on the daily. I spend most of my days partying it with my friends on weekends, smoking and living it up. I was definitely not the average everyday nineteen-year-old girl who is a good two-shoes acting like a “princess” all the damn time spending daddy’s money.

My parents obviously didn’t approve but it’s my life, after all. If I choose to live it how I want to, it’s my decision not theirs. I didn’t give a flying fuck what people thought. All the people I hang out with are just like me, always smoking and drinking whatever is on the premises whether it be rum, scotch basically any other type of alcohol out there. I can’t even recall how many times I’ve been caught in the possession of drugs and alcohol. Too much really, way too many times to count.

We drink, we smoke, party too hard until the wee hours of the morning until we’re suffering from a massive hangover the night before. That includes coming down from a high on whatever drugs we take. I know it’s all bad and most of it is illegal, but none of us really care at all, really.

I let out a groan as I roll over in my bed with a horrible hangover I was trying to rid off. I was too out of it to care, at least I knew where I was, and surprisingly sober enough to know I was in my own house in my bedroom. I was out at a friend’s lake house where they were throwing a crazy get together where I got drunk out of my mind like always. My eyes shot open at the loud sound of a knock on my door that pulled me from my sleep.

“Ugh, what the hell do you want?!” I yell my voice muffled from how it was buried in the pillow. I let out a huff of annoyance as I hear the door creak open and the sound of footsteps.

“Olivia, can you get up and go down stairs with me? Your father and I have something to tell you…it’s really important,” I hear my mother say as I feel the side of my bed sink down as she sits down.

What the hell was going on? I clear my throat and cough a little as I slowly sit up lying against my pillows, a scowl look on my face and my arms crossed. My mother had just awakened the devil. I was definitely not a morning person or pleasant person at all when I am suddenly pulled out of a deep sleep, especially when I’m trying to get rid of a massive hangover. Not good.

“I might,” I mumble and roll my eyes not that I cared. “What do you have to tell me that’s so important?” I ask emphasizing on the word, have, as I stare at my mother, my eyebrows furrowed together.

“Get up and get dressed and hurry your lazy butt downstairs, your father’s waiting in the living room,” she tells me and gives me a smile. She reaches her hand forward and pushes some of my blonde hair out of my face that had fallen over my eyes. I swat her hand away and mutter a “stop it” and sink back down under my sheets.

“Fine, if it’ll make you stop bugging the shit out of me, I will,” I grumble and push the warm comfy sheets off of my body. I felt a shiver go down my spine as the cold air hits my bare legs.

“Language,” she calls out turning toward me as she heads for the door. I just roll my eyes and mumble a “shut the hell up, I don’t give a shit,” under my breath. As she walked out of the door, she slammed my door shut leaving me alone once more. Finally, I was alone again. I fall back onto my pillows and shut my eyes.

After a few minutes, I finally get up and make my way over my dresser. Last night, this morning rather, I didn’t bother to change out my clothes I wore to the party last night, a short black mini dress that barely managed to cover my ass. I slip out of my dress, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

I grab the handle of my dresser drawer and pull it open. I slip on a tank top not really caring about whether or not I was wearing a bra before I pull on a pair of sweats up my legs. As I stare in the mirror above my dresser, I ran my fingers through my wavy blonde hair giving it a messy bed-head look so it didn’t look too shitty.

I let out a long sigh before I walk toward my door. Pulling it open in a swift manner, I slowly walk out into the hallway, trying to take my merry time. The walk from my bedroom door to the stairs I was about to descend was too short, way too short for my liking. It was only about five measly steps away.

As I began to slowly make my way down the stairs, I heard Mom talking to Dad. I slowed a bit so I could try and hear what they were saying, taking a seat at the step below the top quietly as I could be without making noise. All I heard was my mom muttering something to my father, “She isn’t going to like it, Dean, not one bit,” in a hushed tone.

What the hell was I not going to like? I think to myself as I slowly rise up from where I sat on the stairs and walk down them. I finally make it down the staircase and pad my way into living room where my parents were waiting for me.

“There you are, sweetie,” my mom says looking at me with a small smile on her face. I give her a slight smile as I plop down on the couch beside my dad. My mother was sitting in the black leather La-Z-Boy recliner.

“So, what did you guys need to tell me that’s so important?” I ask and roll my eyes as I look to my mom and then shift my eyes to my dad who sat beside me.

“Olivia, after you hear what your father and I have to say, I really hope you won’t fly off the handle with us,” my mom tells me, a look of seriousness in her eyes. I just scoff and roll my eyes.

“No promises,” I mutter in reply.

“What is it? Can’t you spit it out and tell me already?” I ask raising my voice in annoyance as I look at my mom who was taking a breath, most likely trying to figure out what to say. After a few more minutes, she opens her mouth.

“Olivia, your father and I…we’re sending you to London to stay with your Aunt Meredith for a while,” she finishes, staring at me. I felt my father’s eyes on me as well. For a few minutes, I don’t respond. It takes me a good five minutes or so for me to get the idea through my head.

“What? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…why the hell are you sending me there?!” I question staring at each of them in disbelief. I knew it most likely had something to do with how I always go out and party coming home super late drunk off my ass. They probably think by sending me there it will “fix” my problem how I party all the time not acting like I have a care in the world.

“You’ve become way out of control lately with your drinking and late night parties, Olivia. Is this the lifestyle you want to lead for yourself? Getting drunk, high and smoke, whatever the hell it is you kids do these days? I’ll admit, back in my college days before I met your mom I did that and got drunk every night with my buddies. When your mom and I got together, after a while, I stopped doing that, only going out on occasion for a drink or two. She is the one who brought me out of that dark place I was stuck in,” my father tells me, his voice rising in anger as he spoke.

I laugh a bit as he spoke. My dad really stopped drinking, because of my mom, claiming she “changed” him or whatever? Is that even possible? I let out an aggravated sigh from my lips and run my hand through my blonde hair.

“So, you’re basically telling me that Mom made you stop drinking? How the hell is that even possible?” I ask, staring at him, my brows scrunched together.

“She did. I just don’t want the same happening to you since you’re so young already, nineteen is still young, Olivia,” my dad replies.

“Wow,” I scoff as I look at my mom and then turn to face my dad who was seated beside me. “You get onto me for going out and getting drunk off my ass all the time, but never did I ever see you get mad and go bat shit crazy at Andrea, when she came home drunk of her ass all the damn time,” I spat angrily.

It angered me to no end how they always got on me when they never got onto my older sister, Andrea, when she would come home drunk and higher than the Statue of Liberty. She was now twenty-three, only about four years older than I am. That all went down when she was about my age, 19 maybe even a year younger than I am now. I was glad I was almost twenty, which meant I was closer to the legal drinking age of 21. I was still pretty far from it though, which sucked ass.

“We did, Olivia, we got onto her all the time, and after a long while, she began to listen, I sure hope you do the same but it doesn’t seem like you want it to go that way,” my dad replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“To answer your question, Olivia, before your father interrupted, we’re sending you there because we can’t seem to get you to slow down at all. We want our daughter back, the loving daughter I used to spend days on end with making old scrapbooks, painting and watch movies that you used to love. Ever since you turned seventeen, all you’ve done is turned your life upside down, trading it all in for alcohol and smoking. I-I m-miss my caring, loving, beautiful nineteen-year-old daughter, Olivia, and you aren’t like her at all. I don’t know what you’ve become, we have to do this,” she tells me and I notice her eyes fill up with tears threatening to fall.

“Yeah, maybe she’s the girl I don’t want to be anymore,” I respond looking at her.

“You leave in two days, go get packing,” she says standing up and wiping her eyes as she walks into the kitchen.

I sit there on the couch for a few minutes, still trying to process the fact I was going all the way to London. Since my parents weren’t going to be there, they couldn’t control me, I am my own person. If I want to go out and party, I will. No one can stop me. If anyone told me to stop, I’d just tell them to fuck off, since it’s not any of their business but mine.

I head back upstairs toward my room so I could lie down a bit. I was still tired from being out the night before, just not as hung over as I was when I first woke up. As much as I wanted to pass back out, I wanted to get all of this packing shit out of the way first, before my mom comes up to bitch at me again for not getting it done. I go over to my closet and pull out my suitcase, which was on the top shelf. It took me a few minutes but I somehow managed to get it down.

I toss it carelessly to my bed and unzip it. Going over to my drawer, I pull the drawer open and begin to fill up my suitcase with half of my lingerie from just a single drawer. I had a bunch. Next, I went and began to rummage through my closet to decide on what clothes to take. I grabbed two hand full’s of hangers from my closet, which was a lot. Tons of pairs of jeans, tops, you name it. I even stick in a few dresses in there along with some of my favorite pumps.

It takes me a good half hour to finish up my packing. My suitcase was filled to the brim with clothes, accessories, bathroom necessities and all that other crap you take on vacations. I even stuck a few new packs of Marlboro I bought from a few friends of mine in between my many mounds of clothes I had packed.

Once I had zipped my suitcase up, I set it on the floor before I decided to lie down on my bed. My eyes managed to slip shut as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not even a minute or two later, I hear my phone start going off, playing the tone I had set for when I receive a text, the Super Mario brothers theme song, which was one of my favorite games to play on the Wii, whenever I wasn’t out partying with my friends. I sit up and reach over to grab my phone that was sitting on the small table beside my bed.

I press the home button on my iPhone 5 to see who had texted me. It was from Jessie, one of my best friends I always go to parties with. She’s like my partner in crime. We do everything together, drink together, and smoke together.

I’ve known her ever since we were sixteen, well me, anyway, she was seventeen. She’s only a few months older than me about four I think, the big two-oh, while I’m still in my teens for another month or so. My parents didn’t approve of me hanging out with her, claiming she’s the reason I turned into who I am, and hell, I’ll admit, they’re damn right.

My eyes scan over the words on my screen. She was asking if I was up for going out tonight again. After I finish reading her message, I roll my eyes. I wanted to go, I really did, but I had so much on my mind, about the fact in two days, I’m leaving for London for God knows how long. It would make the night ten times better if I did so I can get my mind off the fact I’m leaving. I unlock my phone so I could send her a reply. I go right to my Messages and tap on her name.

I begin to type up a reply to her text asking if I wanted to go out tonight again. Hey Jess! I sure as hell want to but I have a ton of stuff on my mind. Got some shitty news earlier I’m not too proud of and need to clear my head. Meet you at the corner of Melrose and we’ll go from there? 8:30 ok? (:

After I send the message, I set it down beside me so I could wait for a reply. I rest my eyes for a few minutes before my phone goes off again. My eyes open wide to the loud noise of my ringtone as I pick it up. Sounds like a plan, Oli. See you then! Xo I smile as I look at the top of my phone so I could check the time.

It was only 5:30 p.m., which meant I had three hours to kill before I was going to meet up with Jessie. What to do, what to do to pass the time. Sleep, which is what had come to mind and that is exactly what I did. Before I fell asleep, I set an alarm for 7:15 on my phone so I’d wake up in time and have time to get ready.

Notes

Hey there!
This here's the first chapter of my new Liam story! Hope you all like it! I have the first two chapters written and am currently working on the third (:

I really hope you all enjoy this - I'd love to know what you think so far! Drop a comment and let me know what you think?

What do y'all think so far? Let me know! :D

Thanks for reading & enjoy!