Lainey's POV

I was seconds away from being late and panting from running when I reached Madame Dentelle, ten seconds away, ten seconds more and my asshole of a boss would have sent me packing. She hates that I work here, she hates that I'm not absolutely up myself like she is, that I don't have my hair pulled back in one of those facelift buns; you know what I mean?

When your skin's pulled so tight your eyebrows are like three inches higher on you head than they should be.

"Yet another close call, Lainey," she remarked coldly, her voice matched exactly how she looked. Severe, black, pointy-toed, heels, sour expression, linear eye liner, starched but expensive black and white clothes and an attitude that could easily scare children.

Her ovaries probably ran away years ago.

"My apologies, Farrah." Since she could only see my back I felt free to roll my eyes and pull a face. I probably liked her about as much as she liked me, maybe even less since she gets to go home to a place cleaned from top to bottom by house housemaid, me on the other hand, I had to clean my apartment every single day because three year olds make a fuckload of mess and that's even when I'm a lucky parent who has a kid that at least tries to clean up when you ask them.

"It's your second strike." I couldn't have given less of a fuck about her stupid strikes if I tried, to be perfectly honest I would be more than pleased if given the chance to push Farrah Fortier off the top of a building and get away with it. Hell, I've considered doing it even though I might go to prison.

She never did anything here, she had not reason to constantly come in and hang around, she didn't serve at the desk, she didn't fit anyone and she didn't fold and hang anything. All Farrah did was show up, stare icily at me for half an hour then walk off to do something, probably put herself back in her deep freezer to keep her heart nice and cold. The worst part about it was that during all the time Farrah watched, not folding or doing anything, she would pester me, constantly saying that I needed to do a better job, that I needed to smile more. I was doing the best damn job I could.

I took my satchel off as I went into the back room, hanging it up on the wall then looking in a nearby mirror to smooth out a few loose hairs in my French twist that had taken me ten YouTube videos and three hours to learn.

I'd only just figured out how to do it and that was while using half a can of hairspray every time which I'm pretty sure isn't healthy for my lungs or really anything in general. Actually I think I'm fine with doing anything that made me look even slightly better since the fringe Sunny insisted she cut was still growing out; if you want to imagine it think of Hayley Williams and her baby bangs but I look absolutely nothing like Hayley Williams so it looks like complete shit...not that I was a bad enough mother to tell Summer that, she thought she'd done a good job.

My high school and now grown up friend Bree - an actual, full time hairdresser - was supposed to be coming over and cutting it for me, something blunt that actually matched my face. Not a recreation of Beyoncé's new do and in my mind whatever speculation there was over her daughter doing her hair was out the fucking window, the kid did it.

I'm such a pushover with Sunny.

I turned around on a couple of different angles to make sure Farrah wouldn't be able to see a spider print singlet under my white blouse and adjusted the straps of the stupid heels I have to wear. I swear the Hot Topic gig is my only reprieve from this shitty place, at least the pay's alright, not that it makes a dent considering the price of my flat. I'd need to get a bonus of eight hundred a month to be even close to living half as well as Farrah.

I'd been to her house once, she left her purse at the store and made me drive nearly an hour away to give it back to her. She hadn't said thank you, given me fuel money for the effort, sheesh she was worse than Miss Archer, I wouldn't be shocked if she were Archer's long lost, un-identical twin. I'm not kidding she doesn't know how to appear grateful for anything, I wonder if her mother hugged her when she was a child. No, she was more likely hit for saying thanks, that's how she ended up like this; then again I suppose she could be a natural born bitch, some people are just like that.

By the time I was presentable for work and on my way out of the staff room a shopper was already in the boutique and I went to what I did best, smiling and pretending that I didn't in reality want to burn the entire place down. As long as I knew I could get an equally well paying job, I'd quit.

"Hello, Miss. My name's Lainey, how can I help you today?" Put a gun to my head and kill me now, I can already tell this woman is going to be a pain in the ass, everything about her screams 'I am going to analyze everything about you and decide I hate you no matter what' but as I've already said, the majority of the women in here are like that.

Still, I've been to Rosehill, my parents practically disowned me, I've definitely seen worse.

~~~

Work at Madame Dentelle ended at twelve which for some people would have sounded fantastic, not for me since I had arrived there at seven and would be now heading to Hot Topic - which was at least in the same shopping complex - to work an afternoon shift which would go until six, at least I knew I had a friend there and a place I could relax.

Plus there was no one bossing me around all the time which in my book was a definite bonus, probably because I'm the assistant manager.

I'd have to thank Quincy for helping me get the job after only a year of working at get place, she was the manager and a blessing since it was her getting me the position that made me able to move out of Dale and April's house and into a home of my own. Granted it took me a couple of months to get used to it, going shopping, cleaning, cooking, it was actually kinda weird to be nearly by myself but I sorta liked it. I almost felt like I was back at the English boarding school again.

I took a moment to stop before walking into the store, I pulled my heels off and put them in my bag, trading them in for sneakers and unbuttoning my blouse, adding that to my bundle of serious work clothes that I loathed dressing in everyday. Summer could even tell that they looked awful and would frown when watching me get dressed in the morning, every now and then she'd add a comment about how I 'don't look right'. It was sweet of her and made me really happy that my daughter knew me so well, then again I probably don't seem very happy when professionalized, I don't think anyone can to be honest. It'd probably explain half of the adults I met when I was a teenager, taking their suffering out on everyone younger than them because of the saying 'respect your elders'.

Well I'm not going to be fucking respecting anyone if they treat me like shit.

"Lain, you're here." Since I'd legally changed my name everybody had taken to making a nickname out of what had began as a nickname, it was my first boyfriends fault, he loved that song La La Lainey or whatever, he thought the girl it as about sounded like me and the joke stuck to the point of my preferring it over my actual birth name, my great-great-great grandmothers name.

"Hey, Quincy. What'cha up to today? Anything interesting happened or happening?" I threw her my satchel and hopped over the counter, not needing to worry about getting told off or fired for taking a shortcut.

"Not much, man, mostly chilling out. There's not that much going on considering what's supposed to be happening today, I thought the place would be packed to the rafters with fangirls." Hot Topic always had fangirls, we sell band merch but I still turned to look at her, feeling my eyebrows go up a little in question as I reached behind me and pulled the pins out of my heart, letting it out and enjoying the feeling of not looking like my mom. Dale had compared me to her the first time he'd seen me with my hair up like this and I'd punched him as hard as I possibly could in the arm.
I never wanted to be compared to her for as long as I lived.

"So, what's going on this time?" I wondered, the Hot Topic we worked at often did special giveaways or had small events inside, we had a lot of space and were - as far as I knew - the biggest one in San Diego.

Quincey chewed on her painted, black thumbnail for a moment before gesturing to one of the posters on the wall and replying. "That band that's all over the radio, uh, My Chemical something. The guys are gonna coming in and doing a signing or whatever, I thought people would have already started waiting for them."

I nearly collapsed on the floor when I heard her response, then just as quickly stood upright and got dressed to leave, I don't care if this is my shift, I don't care if I'm supposed to be working so Quincy can go home, she doesn't mind hanging around the shop and she hopefully won't kick up a fuss.

"Okay, when are they showing up?" I could maybe stick around until doom-time but I wasn't intending to stay a second after that, if I ran into Gerard right now my entire life would be kicked up to a level of weird I simply wasn't ready to deal with, not now. The band wasn't even supposed to be in San Diego, last I heard they were supposed to be playing smaller shows in South America, not showing up here, where I fucking work.

"Two...I think." It's nothing new that Quincy didn't know about what was happening in the store she was supposed to be running and I can't be blamed for it, I'd recently taken a weeks - paid since I can't afford unpaid - vacation to spend some time with Sunny, de-stress and relax for a little while. Yeah I was still working at Madame Dentelle but I at least had some time to myself, go for a run, spend a day with my old friends, catching up about the latest goings on in our lives.

I looked at the time on the register and gawked, I hadn't realized it but Farrah had kept me stocking shelves overtime, it was already one in the afternoon and now that I look around the stores beginning to fill with girls and guys in MCR merchandise. I'm going immediately, maybe I might have considered sticking around if April hadn't randomly dropped the fact that Gerard had been in a year long relationship with someone new, over breakfast. She might be a skilled tattoo artist and she might be the best babysitter anyone could ever have but she had no sense of timing whatsoever, funnily enough neither did Dale.

"Do you think you can cover for me?" I was hoping she'd say yes, she likely would, if I offered to get her tickets to one of Dale's concerts, she was easy to bribe like that.

"Why what's the matter, afraid of meeting some famous people?" Quincy didn't know about Gerard, she didn't know how I had met him or what band he was in; when she'd asked who Sunny's dad was I told her he was a musician and that's it. Aside from a couple of the people I knew back in England and Dale and April, nobody else knew, not even my friends back home and my mouth opened and closed a few times before I could fabricate a really weak like.

"No, I, I forgot there was a sale on movies down the street," I told her, pulling my bag up on my shoulder and walking around the counter, already trying to leave. I'm so not getting caught up in this, not here, not today, I'd rather jump off the roof of a million storey building and I'm afraid of heights.

"You're going to dump me here with what is already two hundred cray-cray fangirls and fanboys, just me, here, now? Do you realize how hectic it's gonna get when those guys show up? People are gonna go fucking nuts and I was the one intending to dump this on you so I could meet up with Bree." It was classic Quincy, ready to lump her responsibilities on someone else out of the blue, granted I was trying to do the same thing but unlike her I didn't do it twenty or so times a month. If there was something so was supposed to be doing...she'd work her ass off to convince someone else to do it. She was kinda like a modern day, sorta rockabilly version of Tom Sawyer.

"Quince, if you do this for me I will get a date with Nate." He was the lead singer of my brother's band and the reason for her having seen over thirty of their shows, she was practically in love with him and they'd met a couple of times when she was sixteen but rather than ask her out he'd done a pro good job of friend zoning her.

Her entire face lit up.

"Fuck yeah," she grinned then relaxed in her chair behind the counter, putting her booted feet up on the glass countertop. "I'll hold down the fort, you go movie shopping or whatever." I knew that would make her cave, she might be able to talk a turtle out of its shell but I could consider myself to be friends with Nathan Feight and knew that with enough prodding he would be willing to take Quincy for at the very least a meal.

"Thank you, I love you so much. You are such a good friend." I was relieved knowing that I was able to skip work for a couple of hours, just until the band got back on their tour bus or their airplane, either way I didn't care, as long as I didn't have to bump into any of them. Considering how it ended even seeing Ray would make me uncomfortable.

"I love you too...but no homo," she joked, ironically Quincy was the only girl I had full on, lip kissed and another fun fact, contributed to Max - my first boyfriend - dumping me because he thought I was a lesbian.

Quincy had shown some interest in girls, never dating any but wasn't again kissing some randoms. For a while I'd wondered if I maybe swung that way, we kissed, turns out I was a sucker for the boys and only boys. Max had made a big deal out of nothing, but in the long run it warded off a homophobic ex so I guess everything turned out for the better, I didn't even like him that much in the first place.
If he wasn't cool with it then I wasn't cool with him and for me it was good riddance, I could only be glad he didn't end up being my first.

I grinned at my friend before hurrying away, eager to get out of the store and stay out until everything blew over, the signing was finished and the fans dissipated, hopefully My Chemical Romance wouldn't stick around the building for too long.

Not having much of an idea where I could spend my next two or three hours, I decided to go with the local music store and walked across the street, easily dodging the slow moving traffic and getting a couple of birds thrown my way in the process. It didn't faze me in the least, I'd grown up in Chicago and although I'm sure there were some really nice people, the majority of the folks I encountered most days were pricks.

"Kacey?" I knew the guy who spent most of his time running the store, well a bit more than knew, we were pretty good friends actually and if Quincy and I weren't on, on the same day during my lunch break I'd head across the street and see what Kacey was up to, occasionally I'd shoot him lunch or he'd get something for me. I had some good memories of hanging out with the guy, watching him eat a burger with one hand and remix a song on his laptop with the other; I'd never been one for techno but I have to admit it was impressive to watch. "Kacey?" He didn't seem to be around and I sighed before walking into the back of the shop.

Might as well check out the mags, I'm actually kind of curious about this Chelsea Wicked chick.
It wasn't the fact she was dating Gerard that piqued my interest, I'm just the kind of person who can appreciate seeing a girl in rock, regardless of who she was dating.

I walked up and down the long row of magazines, scanning them until my eyes registered her name on the cover Dark Noise and I picked it up, flicking through the glossy pages and looking for the interview mentioned on the front. Dark Noise is damn famous mag - even I know that - so she must be good at what she does if it got her a three page article with one of the best rock interviewers in the biz, either that or she's got some solid connections.

I'd only read a paragraph before I was ready to put the magazine down, I didn't want to be prejudiced since I didn't know her and she was probably nice but she seemed to be just a little trashy, very self-confident but trashy nonetheless. I know I wasn't the classiest act anyone's ever seen, especially when I was a teenager, I've cleaned myself up a lot but this Chelsea chick seems way, way worse than I have ever been. She takes drugs I haven't even heard of, has offended just about every single one of my favorite bands and basically seems like a reincarnation of Nancy Spungen, which is something that she probably wouldn't take as a complement if I were to say it to her face.

Maybe she's famous because her music's great?

~~~

Without meaning two I spent the next two hours of my time in the store, I'd decided to finish reading the article, sat on the floor then spent the few hours I had to kill flipping my way through magazines then finally talking to Kacey when he finally made his appearance, only sticking around for thirty minutes before heading out to grab something for us to eat, he was still gone. My stomach growled quietly and I told it to be quiet before resuming my article scanning, it was the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday and I had been - for the most part - left undisturbed.

The chimes above the front door rung as someone else entered the shop. It's probably Kacey, this was 'round lunchtime by now and he was already late back, I wouldn't be surprised if he maybe got distracted by line that must have been pouring out of Hot Topic when he first left.

I returned the copy of Guitar Enthusiast Monthly I was reading to the magazine rack and stood up, brushing a bit of dirt off my leggings before, tucking my hair behind my ears and hoping it was actually Kacey who'd come in and that I wasn't about to call out to some random stranger.

"Hey, Everette! Took you long enough, where did you go to get the pizza, Italy? I tho-" As I turned the corner, entering the aisle of electric, bass and acoustic guitars - distracted from wondering what new Disney movie it was that Summer wanted to see - I smacked face first into the shoulder of someone admiring a Les Paul. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to." I stepped around them and kept moving, if Kacey wasn't here then I might as well grab something from the Lavazza down the street and head back to Hot Topic, the band should be gone by now and I really need to work.

"Lainey?" I turned around automatically, just like anyone else would when hearing their name, although I was far more used to mom and mommy these days. Then again my boss Farrah could nag at me like nobody else, I get the feeling that she and my mother could get along like two peas in a pod.

"Yeah?"

Holy smokes.

Notes