Dedicated to KanyeInterruptedMe because her works are fúcking good. Check her out! xD

[Edited]

~Hailey~

For the rest of the day I stayed cooped up in my room, studying as hard as I could to keep away the guilt.

It worked for several hours until my brain was just so fried that I couldn't do anything except lie face down on my bed. Summoning up all my energy, I glanced down at my phone and noted the time. It was quarter past six in the evening.

My eyebrows shot up. It looked like I'd done more work than I'd realised.

As if determined to disturb the peace, my stomach growled. I was also hungry. Very, very hungry. Since coming home I hadn't even stopped to have anything to eat which was stupid of me because now I was paying the price. Shoving my face further into my pillow, I groaned.

"I'm such an idiot." My stomach responded with another growl which I took to be an agreement. 

Half an hour later, the smell of lasagne made its way into my room, causing me to pull a face. Why would my parents be cooking? Just as suddenly as the thought came, I felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dropped all over me once I realised exactly what day it was.

It was sit-together night.

God.

So, my parents had this stupid routine. Once every couple of weeks or so we were all forced to sit down 'as a family' and eat together. Each time we did, I was subject to scrutiny -- 'Was I getting the top grades?', 'was I still invited to the awards evening the institution is holding at the end of each year?' And my personal favourite: 'How come we haven't received a personal message detailing our daughter's excellence?'

Yes, I was aware that I was eighteen and now in university, but they didn't seem to care about that small fact at all. 

The reason as to why they were so desperate to get evidence of my exemplary behaviour is because they wanted to show me off to their workmates and peers. As long as they got the facts and were able to do so, nothing else mattered, including that small fact about lecturers rarely making parental contact. 

Deciding to get up and face the music, (seeing as I couldn't avoid it forever), I began to prepare myself for the onslaught I would face.

Taking a deep breath, I fanned out my bed-hair and picked off imaginary flint from my jeans. I even sprayed on some perfume in case my clothes smelled funky (I hadn't bothered to change when I'd gotten in), and put on some mascara and lip gloss. Often, my mother had criticised me for not wearing enough make-up, telling me it was unlady-like and that I needed it to enhance my 'dull features' - yes, that's what she'd said. I'd listened, of course and now the habit had kind of stuck. 

"Stupid mother," I said to myself out loud, pleased that she couldn't hear me. 

Of course my mother was very pretty which was the icing on the cake. She had beautiful auburn hair that flowed down her back; cascading like a waterfall at the worst of times. Her green eyes sparkled when she smiled (which wasn't very often) and her skin was smooth, almost flawless. I say almost, because I'd seen her with the odd pimple once or twice which had made me snigger each occasion. 

Overall, I found it to be both a blessing and a curse that I looked nothing like her. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror I didn't remind myself of her but the downside, of course, was that I didn't inherit her beauty. 

"Hailey!" My father called up to me in his usual authorative tone.

After much muttering and cursing, I went down.

Once I'd took several bites of my food, I waited for the inquisition to begin, seeing as I knew better than not to expect one. It wasn't like my parents to go against routine, after all.

We hadn't even been eating for five minutes when it started.

"How is university?" My father asked as he sliced into his meat. It was an easy enough question to begin with.

My mother practically ignored him, taking a large sip from her wine glass before squeezing shut her eyes. Of course, what he'd meant to say was: "have you done anything that we can boast about lately?"

I lifted my own glass and tried to think of something eligible to say whilst shaping my expression into one of indifference. "It's good," I told him, "I managed to get over 90% on my test last week." Take that!

He nodded. I didn't even receive a 'congratulations,' or a smile from either of them telling me how proud they were and although I wasn't surprised, it still really upset me. "Oh, and my lecturer told me he's proud of my exemplary performance," I added. Still nothing.

Like I said, I should've been used to it, but I was still disappointed by their lack of response. When I was younger they'd been normal parents; happy and outgoing not to mention kind, but now it had reached a point where the only thing they'd expressed towards me anymore was indifference.

After a painstaking stretch of silence my mother finally spoke up, "Where do you think this... degree will take you?" Her voice was as soft as a feather as she looked at me with nothing but a challenge in her eyes. Thay was my mother for you. She reminded me of Jenna -- beautiful, yet lethal.

I'd nicknamed her 'a rose with thorns'.

Don't think of Jenna, I reminded myself as I tried to focus on the task at hand. Just answer the question. I sliced a potato as I pretended to ponder. "I plan to finish within three years as is necessary," I began carefully, "And then I hope to apply for a job in a publishing or magazine company to become an editor," I ate my food. "A well-paid one at that," This last bit was reiterated in the hopes to gain her approval. Money was everything to them, so it made perfect sense to do so.

"It's also what I want to do."

We'd been through the same conversation countless of times and each time it ended the same way, so I don't know why she even bothered to keep asking. Whenever I gave her my reply she would always shoot me down with this look that reeked of disapproval, before telling me of some more 'approved' occupations I should consider. 

As expected she frowned and sent me a glacial look. "Oh, but think of the other occupations that are out there!" She exclaimed a little bit too loudly. "You could get your Masters and even become a lecturer yourself, at a top university nonetheless!"

I couldn't help it, I inwardly cringed at her rising falsetto. Everything about it was just so forced, just like her parenting skills. I was torn between irritation and a strange kind of pity. 

Before I could get a word in edgeways, she continued, "Think of how proud you would make your parents if only you would reconsider." And just like that; without her even trying, she immediately dissipated all shreds of sympathy I had for her -- another thing that she was good at, as was my father. She was, in fact, a manipulative bitch, I told myself. If I were to ever admit that I was too, then there would be no doubt as to who I'd learned it from. 

Who did she think she was? I didn't have to make her proud at all. I didn't owe her anything. 

"I'd rather be an editor," I stated coolly. Bitch, I added as I imagined stabbing her in the face with my fork.

What?

My father snorted. "Don't bother pushing her, Lorraine. You can barely talk about aspiring careers when you're just a glorified fucking secretary."

And so it began.

My mother fumed, her cheeks staining a delicate pink as she gripped the stem of her wine glass as if her life depended on it. I cringed. Even for my father I knew that was a low blow. 

I briefly wondered if he'd drank too much.

"I am an assistant corporate manager, Darren!" She seethed, "Not like you'd know what that is." Now it was her turn to scoff and flip her hair over her shoulders."You may be a well-known lawyer, dear husband, but I'm sure you're reputation has been more than tarnished with the amount of PR's you've had between your damn legs!"

My father and I froze. Between us, neither of us said a word as I sat with my mouth hanging open, trying my best (and failing) to keep it shut. Wow, was my only comprehensible thought. For my mother that retort was unspeakable. 

Beside me, my father looked dangerously calm as he spoke, "Don't ever fucking talk to me like that again," he fumed.

My mother's mouth instantly clamped shut as her manner resembled one of regret and for the first time in forever, her eyes watered as she stared at the table cloth in front of her.

We all let the deadly silence hang between us as my father stood wiyhout warning, throwing his plate roughly into the dishwasher before grabbing his jacket and storming out the house. Maybe his mistress meant more to him than I'd originally believed, seeing as that was where he was most likely going to at that time of night.

I just sat there for a few moments, feeling nothing but sorrow for the wreckage that my parent's marriage had become even though none of it had been my fault. Since I'd been old enough to understand, I'd realised that their marriage had resembled that of a high-speed train destined to crash. 

Swallowing back a sigh, I twirled my fork around and played with my food.

At a certain point in time, I'd meant more to my parents than that. Perhaps if they'd opened their eyes back then and taken a good look at everything around them, then they could've seen that their daughter was worth more to them than their marriage. Maybe then they could've tried to fix it, both for themesleves and for me.

But they hadn't and now it was too late.

I stood without saying a word, walking towards the kitchen to put my plate away after dumping a good chunk of my food in the bin. It was then that I realised something important as I stared at the spotless; unstained kitchen.

My parents were selfish and broken people.

They'd been pampered to the point where they were, as adults, unable to see the world past their own wants and desires, and it was this that had led to them completely neglect their own daughter. They were blinded by greed and selfishness. 

It was at this revelation that I shed my last scrap of pity their way, before treading up the stairs feeling hollower than I'd ever felt before.

---

Phew! So that was a lot of background information and not a lot happened here. I apologise.

I promise I'll try to limit this as much as I can within the future chapters, but I needed to set the scene and explain the dynamics of her parent's relationship.

Apart from irritation at how lengthy and full of information it was, what did you feel in this chapter?

Please, PLEASE share this or even vote/comment to let me know you're reading! Even one comment can make the world of difference. Thank you, @JasmineJui for giving me your lovely thoughts xox

----

By the way, here is the cast to give you a rough idea of what the characters look like:

Danielle Campbell as Hailey Cooper

Abigail Breslin as Layla

Adam Hicks as Scott Reeves

Nick Robinson as Tristan Parker

Holland Roden as Amanda

Peyton List as Jenna Stevens

Gemma Ward as Courtney