Story_Starter

Prologue Have you ever imagined what life would be like, as an alternate person' In a different universe' Sure. We all have, right' But it’s not like any of us get to experience it. That’s just unimaginable. But sometimes, I wish I was lucky enough to experience that. To be able to live in a big house on the hills, to be the popular guy, who gets all the ‘chicks’. Or, maybe the one to find love, to be one of the lucky, experiencing true happiness. That’s what I was looking for the day I left. That was my aim. To find a life I would enjoy. Nobody warned me that it would lead to a life like this. I thought it meant portraying courage, bravery, and being mature. I was so wrong. It meant living alone, scared, and worried for what lays ahead of me. Chapter One Life’s hard for a struggling musician. That’s what I thought all my childhood. And then I turned fourteen, started at high school, and was taught that actually, most musicians never make it, so there’s no point in trying. My Maths teacher told me that, after I had skived off a lesson. That was how I was known around this dump. ‘The band geek who can’t get his head around the facts.’ What facts' That life was just a constant struggle' Or, that’s how it seemed at the moment to me. I come from what people might call a split household. My parents fight all the time, they put me down, and they don’t really care about their children, in all honesty. Oh yeah. I better add that little piece of information in. I’m the middle child of the Vanderwolf family. I’m sixteen, and my youngest sister is eight, the other fourteen. They’re nuisances, but I’m used to it. Oh, and I’m Dylan. Dylan Vanderwolf, sixteen year old, Junior... Struggling musician. Well, I say that, but I’ve never actually performed in public properly. Ever. And, I probably never will. And then, welcome to my school. Lakewood High School. It’s the only one in this ghost town, and it’s full of all sorts of people. Preps, skater kids, loners, nerds, jocks, you name it, we got it. And then the rulers, the Famous Five, and the Highland Boys. And yeah, they named themselves that. I’m just one who sits on the outside, dreaming of what it’s like to be one of the ‘elite’. And how I can get into it. Everyday is as boring as the next, but today, today was different. Keller Parker, the Queen of Junior year... she talked to me! “Hey you! Dylan, right'” Keller Parker' She knew my name' This was just so unreal. “Um, yeah, that’s right, that’s me!” I responded. “Great. Um, so you wanna come to my party tonight' My place.” She asked, an innocent look on her face. “Uh, sure, I’d love that.” “Great, see you there!” Keller answered, and turned on her heel, striding off. Keller Parker just invited the geek, Dylan Vanderwolf to a party. Was this for real' But then again, I do have good looks... Messy light brown hair, a toned body from my surfing, and hazel eyes. Just the reputation didn’t fit into the look very well. Chapter Two Tonight is the night I’ve been waiting for. I’m finally gonna get my shot at being popular. Jeez, I must sound stupid. And I just hope that this new cologne works how it says on the tin. Of course, my youngest sister, Tessa is helping me. Or, when I say helping, rubbing hair gel into my scalp. I can hear the fighting from down stairs going on, but I decide to ignore it. After all, what’s going to get in the way of tonight' It’s MY night. No-one elses. And then the door swings open, and a red face tries to smooth over her frown. “Sweetie, why are you dressing up'” My heart stops. “I’m going out. To a party... Remember' I told you the other night.” My mothers’ face turns redder, “no, you didn’t tell me about a party.” She can’t do this. Not now. Not to me. “Don’t just stand there. Go and make the dinner.” My feet are glued to the ground, though. I can’t move. I don’t WANT to move. Why should I' I intended to go to this party, and I will. “Dylan' Now, please.” I shake my head slowly, before the words eventually emerge. “No.” My mothers face explodes, and I prepare myself for the worst. “Excuse me' If I tell you to do something, you do it. You are just making stuff more difficult all the time, Dylan, with that stupid guitar-,” Mum looks around the room, and sets her eyes on my acoustic guitar, of which I paid for out of my own money, saved up over two years. My gasp, gets stuck in my throat, as she grabs it by the head, and hits against the end of my bed. “No...” I feel my anger, increasing by the second. How could she do it' She knew better than anyone about my aims, my dreams.