Looking for trouble | Vol. 2 | Jamie Bower fanfiction

24 | Failed parenting

A/N: updating will probably be slow and very unedited from now on. Got a ton of school stuff to do. Sorry.

Skye

My father is a millionaire.

I've taken the liberty of googling the name on his card, 'Cole Reed Marlowe'. I have learned the following; he is a business man, specialising in advertisement and economics. He has gone to fucking Harvard, where he has not just one degree, but two. One in Computer Science (I can't even wrap my head around, whatever the hell, mega pixels are.) and one in business, (I can't wrap my head around that either.)

After that he worked on god damn Wall Street as a stockbroker, which inevitably he was pretty god damn good at. At 28 he had made his first Million dollars. Then he had gotten a -VERY - well-paying job at an advertisement company, they made commercials for a lot of major companies, including Walmart, McDonalds and ToysRus. He has worked there to this day.

So just to Sum up, Cole Reed Marlowe is doing very well for himself.

And the man claims to be my father... Well fuck me...

"So that's your big bad daddy?" Sheehan asks, he is sitting next to me on my bed. It's Sunday morning and like always in LA the sun is baking.

I glare at Robert.

"What? Not like the guy doesn't look like you!" he says, taking a gulp of a water bottle. We're both still in our pyjama's, we had a sleep over last night, Sheehan, Godfray, Evelyn, Patrick and myself. Jorge had gone to see a "friend". I had told them about Jamie's brother and then we had gotten very drunk after that depressing ordeal. It had seemed like a good idea, Jamie's brother was possibly standing with a foot in his grave, the whole of Hollywood thought I was a whore and my father suddenly decided to show his face after 22 years - drinking was a necessity. Now we all have a light head ache - or Sheehan and I have a light head ache, Evelyn, Patrick and Godfray are currently clutching the toilet.

"He is not my big bad daddy." I grumbled. "He is possibly my biological father. Not my big bad dad!"

"Oh, no, I forgot! That's Jamie who's your daddy..."

I push Robert of the bed. He lets out an indignant yelp.

He appears again his hair in severe disarray.

"What was that for?" he voice is high pitched and vexed, he leans back against the wall behind him. He is smiling.

"Jamie isn't my daddy, you blithering idiot!" I yell. I am not really mad at him, I am just pretending to be for the fun of it. Robert goes along with my drama tirade.

"That's up for discussion!"

"Is not!" he laughs at my frustration as he gets up to sit on the bed.

"But seriously Skye, what will you do about that dad of yours?" his voice has become serious, no humour to be found. I liked the playfully annoying joke-yelling better, can we go back to that?

"No idea, he called me yesterday and told me to meet him today," I tell Sheehan, "I don't know if I'll go."

"When is this meeting supposed to be?" he asks.

"What time is it now?" I look behind Sheehan at the clock on my bed side table, "9. 37 A.M, in 4 hours I think? At 13.30 or so, I suppose."

"What are you gonna do?" he asks.

"I am gonna go, and see what he has to say for himself," I answer. My father haven' shown his sorry face for 22 years, it would be an understatement to say that I resented the guy. But I have to submit to one of humanities fatal flaws; demoralising curiosity.