Grey

Prologue: Rory

[ONE YEAR PRIOR]

The loud bass pumped through my body as I subtly bobbed my head along, unable to sit still. The band was one I'd seen before - good, not great, but I did like the song. Even if I didn't, there weren't many other ways I'd have preferred to spend a Friday night than at a show.

I furrowed my eyebrows, focusing on the little elephant I was drawing on the otherwise empty page in front of me. My legs were crossed, my top leg bouncing in tune with my head. The doodle brought a smile to my face, but it disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

I gently shut my notebook, losing my last bit of patience.

"She's not interested."

Though my eyes were set behind the bar, my message successfully reached the correct recipient.

I felt his presence as he stepped a little closer, leaning past his prey who was perched on the barstool next to me. I glanced over, accepting the grateful look in her eyes as a thank you before taking in the sorry sight beside her.

He exhaled dramatically, his warm, whisky-soaked breath hitting me in the face.

"Nobody asked you."

"Nobody asked her either," I responded to him easily before looking directly at her. She was very uncomfortable. "Are you? Interested?"

"I..." She floundered, clearly avoiding any conflict. "I was just waiting for my friend."

"See," he slurred, his drunken grin pissing me off even more. "No problem here."

"Says the problem."

"You're rude."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head but choosing to bite my tongue.

"Wait. You look... you look familiar," he continued, misreading my silence as an invitation. "You're somebody. Right?"

"Yes, I am somebody. Some person. Someone."

"No," he shook his head. I could see was trying very hard to place it, his eyes narrowing. To my dismay, they suddenly went wide. "Oh shit. You're one of Steff Thorn's daughters. Right? I'm so right."

"Nope," I popped the 'p', reopening my journal in hopes he'd take the hint. I picked up my pen again, beginning to shade the elephant. "You're sorely mistaken."

"No, you are!" He argued, his realization slowly shifting to excitement. "He's a fucking legend. That's so cool. That's so cool!"

The girl sitting between us remained quiet, using my unfortunate situation to slip away. I immediately missed her presence, feeling him scoot closer as my hand stilled.

"I don't remember saying you could sit with me."

"I don't remember asking," he chuckled at his own joke, glancing over at what I was drawing. "Can I get a picture?"

"No," I exhaled, shutting my eyes. "I don't play nice, man. Please leave me alone."

"You need a drink," he laughed, his fingers brushing my lower back. "You're uptight but you're pretty."

Of course. Of course he was suddenly interested.

"Do not touch me."

I lost my cool, glaring over at him. He held his hands up in defense though his smirk confirmed he wasn't taking me seriously. "Shit, she's a feisty one. Just like her daddy."

"You know I know your type from a mile away," I spat, his broadening smile like a fan to the fire. "It's sad you were born with a small dick and brain."

As expected, the mood shifted the minute his genitals took a hit. He frowned, huffing as he stood up. "Jesus. You are a bitch."

I watched as he sauntered away, feeling another pair of eyes on me. I glanced behind the bar, seeing the bartender laugh under his breath. He had a rag in hand, drying a beer glass. "That was brutal."

I didn't respond, opting for a shrug. Content with my elephant, I started on a giraffe.

"Impressive, though. I don't see that often," he continued, picking up another wet glass. "Is it true though?"

I knew what he was asking, sighing to myself as I tucked my pen inside and gently shut my journal. I gave in, making eye contact as he gave me a sheepish smile. I knew my eyes held the honest answer as I stood up.

"No," I quietly responded, slipping a $5 onto the bar top. "Thanks for the Coke. Have a nice night."

-

The drive home was painless. Two decades living in the same city, in the same house, made for very efficient travel. I took the familiar backroads, feeling a sense of nostalgia that I knew most in Los Angeles couldn't relate to. People from all over the world flocked to LA, chasing after farfetched dreams and social validation. I would always feel like an outsider to their world, having never known anything else.

I pulled into the driveway, surprised to see a black Range Rover with a dented back bumper next to my mom's newer model. Hiking my bag over my shoulder as I locked my car, I followed the strong smell and subtle trail of smoke into the backyard.

My eyes settled on my sister, her profile only visible due to the bright pool light. She sat at the steps, her feet in the water, a joint between her lips. While it would have been fun to startle her, I was too tired to exert the extra effort for mild comic relief.

"I didn't know you were coming over."

Cal looked up, using her free hand to give a small wave. She pinched the joint between her forefinger and thumb, removing it from her lips as she inhaled deeply. I stopped as I neared her, letting my bag slip off my shoulder into the grass.

She let the remaining smoke seep out of her mouth as she spoke. "Locked out."

"Again?" I laughed humorlessly, having heard the same excuse three times in the past two weeks. I didn't mind the surprise sleepovers, but also didn't understand how a grown adult could continuously misplace their apartment keys. "Is mom up?"

"Don't think so," she shrugged, tucking one knee up to her chest and wrapping her arms around it. "I haven't gotten yelled at yet, so assuming not."

I disposed of my shoes, catching myself as I nearly lost my balance. Bending down to roll my jeans up, I quietly took a seat next to her. The water was cold. She held the joint out in front of me.

"Really?" I mumbled, expecting the eye roll I received. I pressed on, knowing I'd annoy her but not really caring. "You've been hungover all week, can't be sober for a night?"

"If I wanted to hangout with mom, I would be inside," she retorted, sighing dramatically. "Aren't you supposed to be the fun one? Miss college girl?"

I ignored her sarcasm, kicking my feet to stir the water. I stared at the small waves I created, feeling her nonchalantly stare at the side of my face. She took another hit before speaking.

"How is that? Like, school?"

I couldn't help but laugh, our differences on prominent display as she got high and waited for my response. I knew she didn't really care, but I appreciated that she asked.

"It's hard. But, one more semester. I'm just ready to be done," I admitted, shaking my head. "I'm ready to get my own place and get a job. Like a real job."

"Said no one ever."

I bit my lip and swallowed my thoughts, knowing she wouldn't understand. Some nights, this conversation would take a very different turn - usually ending with someone storming out. She stubbed the end of the joint out against the side of the pool, tucking the rest into her jacket pocket as she went to stand up. Wobbling slightly, she offered her hand down to me.

"I'm gonna make popcorn."

I shook my head, gently declining the offer as she shrugged, leaving me to sit by myself. I slowly sat back, laying my head in the grass as my hair fanned around me, interlocking my fingers across my stomach.

I stared up at the sky, a blanket of grey hiding the stars I assumed were gently tucked underneath.