Simon's Daughter

Chapter 2

The second I stepped off the plane I was in awe. This airport was buzzing with people. But I wasn’t in awe with that, I was in awe with the city of London. I wanted to just stand around and admire the city from the large glass windows that made up the wall, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to find my driver to my new home. In London. Mom did not tell me that I’d be living in London. She only mentioned England.

I picked up my purse and slung it over my shoulders and tried to find my way out to the luggage claim. Once I got there I snatched my guitar and my suitcase and kind of just awkwardly stood around the area for what seemed like forever.

“Excuse me, miss?” I heard behind me. I turned around and saw a pale-skinned man in a button up shirt and black pants. He was gay. Totally and one-hundred percent. “Are you Miss Cowell?” he asked me. His voice was kinda high. Yup, he’s gay. I’ve got no problem with that though.

“Abriella. Yeah, that’s me.” I said to him.

“Aw, look at you! You’re so beautiful, I bet you get it from your mother! Well, my name’s Jerry, honey. I’m your dad’s assistant, well, one of them. I’m going to be practically living with you!” he said to me. This must be the Jerry that Jean told me about. “Let’s go home, honey. Justine’s cooking pasta with alfredo tonight, your fathers favorite meal. We’re hoping he comes home at a reasonable time tonight for the meal.” he said as the driver drove us through the street of London.

“Uh... Justine?” I asked him.

“She’s the cook. We practically live with you. Usually I’m your dad’s assistant at the studio, but I’m going to be your entertainment from now on I think! So you’re basically stuck with me. Oh, and who knows, tonight we might get lucky and he might bring home One Direction!” he gushed.

“One... what?” I asked him.

“Oh, that’s right, you’re from America. One Direction is his main focus right now, they’re a boy band that he signed after the X Factor. They. Are. So. Hot.” he explained to me.

“Oh... okay.” I said to him.

“He’ll be home after a while. I’ll show you around the city after we eat, you’re going to love it. Though by the look on your face, you already do....”

“I lived in a city where the only exciting thing that happened was when someone got shot. I’m in awe right now.” I mentioned to him. “The population of the city I lived in isn’t even a 16th of the population of London.”  I said to him again. I gawked at everything that we drove by on the ride to the house and occasionally Jerry would tell me something about the location.

“Oh, this is the Syco building. The entire thing. You’ll probably be seeing more of that. And right around the corner is your new house.” Turns out, right around the corner was about twenty more blocks. We lived in what Jerry called a ‘posh neighborhood’ , to which he had to explain to me that posh was rich and fancy.  I nodded in understanding and my mouth dropped open at the sight of some of these houses. “Please, yours is the biggest,” he mentioned.

Sure enough, he was right. Out of all of the houses in the neighborhood, the biggest one lay at the end of the street, sign in the front of it that read ‘SIMON COWELL, OWNER OF SYCO RECORDS’. It was amazing. It looked like it was made out of masonry material that was colored tan, with dashed of wide on the sides. The windows were all fancy too. If I was seeing things correctly, it looked like there were three floors on the house. The entrance looked freaking grand as it was, too. The van pulled up to the front.