Runaway. (1x1 roleplay with SpawnOfReiter.)

tacobelle

tacobelle

(ง'̀-'́)ง
Brittney Lamar is a 17 year old girl with a dream of being a music artist. Her rich parents always hated the music she listening to, and they preferred her younger sister over her. Brittney didn't mind, over the recent year she has been planning to steal her parents fortune and run away from home. On her mother's birthday, her parents wake up to a note on the fridge saying, "Happy birthday, bitch.. ~Brittney" Brittney had stolen the money her parents had for both hers and her sister's college funds, which was close to 50,000 dollars, and ran away to the airport. A few hours later she arrives in LA and walks around the busy city with her backpack. She comes across a music store and immediately enters, ready to apply for a job.
 
Hours seemed to fade away into a monotonous blur in the Marteson Music Shop. Few people used music stores nowadays, especially with all the upgrades in technology where music can directly downloaded- legally or illegally- online. Mr. Marteson understood this sad truth but kept the store, keeping faith in future generations to come back to the times of video cassettes and vinyl. He still updated the CD collection every week or so, sometimes sending the more popular tracks to factory to have it copied over into older formats like tapes, but he kept that section towards the back of the store, making customers walk past the history of music entertainment before reaching for the latest failure in music-making.


Nowadays, however, Mr. Marteson tends to his other stores, the grocery store around the corner, the flower shop uptown, and another music store on the far eastern side of the city, which leaves his eldest son Matthew Marteson to watch over the place. At 20 years old, he would think that we would be farther along in his life than managing his father's music store. Matthew had much bigger plans, like traveling the world and going to school, but his financial situation and the failing marriage of his parents leaves him sharing an apartment with his father and slowly saving up for a plane ticket to anywhere-but-here. He didn't hate the store, it was actually quite cozy. The design is old, making it sturdy and dependable. Halfway in the store there were stairs that led up to a loft that wrapped around three wall of the store, which was covered in lounging areas with convenient listening stations next to them for socialization or sifting through albums. Matthew spent most of his time here when he wasn't managing the front counter.


But today was a different day. It seemed to be a typical Tuesday afternoon and Matthew was once again trapped under cashier duty. He found it too coincidental that every other employee "previous engagements" whenever cashier rolls around in their cycle. Alas, Matthew didn't mind it as much, considering he had set up the perfect arrangement by moving his favorite chair behind the counter. The seat was high enough to rest his long but not too gangly legs upon the leftmost part of the counter while he leaned back with a nice set of headphones and some head-bobbing tunes flowing through them from his mp3 player resting in his lap. He was flipping through some of the last pages of his unimportant magazine when the door flew open showing a teenager with a backpack hoisted on her back. Matt briefly looked up to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him. It was true, a customer had actually entered the store and they were definitely not a regular. Judging by the attire, probably not a regular around the city either. He contemplated whether to greet the newcomer or ignore them. He assumed the girl was just looking around and leaned back into his chair, searching for a different boring magazine to skim.
 
(Changing what I originally posted..)


Brittney looked around the store, picking up and looking at various vinyls. "May I help you with anything?" One of the other employees asks her, Brittney just shakes her head and puts the vinyl she was looking at back on the shelf. It was no surprise that there was an excessive amount of vinyls and cassettes while there was next to nothing with the normal cds. Brittney rolled her eyes, seeing some girls her age giggling while holding a One Direction cd. "Hey, darlings, you're at a music store. Maybe you should buy some actual music." Brittney laughs at the girls' faces when she said that. After a few more minutes of glancing through the huge selection of vinyls, Brittney walks to the desk. She taps her fingers on the desk, waiting for the cashier's attention, but when the male behind the counter didn't even look up at her, she pulls his headphones down. "Maybe you'd sell more stuff if you paid attention.." Brittney muttered. "Is this place hiring or not?"
 
Matt was startled by his favorite part of the song interrupted by the jerking of his headset and the shrill voice that followed the rude gesture. He paused the music and readjusted the headphones to where they hung around his neck. He tossed the poorly edited magazine down and stood up to reveal his tall and lean physique to the girl in front of him.


"First of all," he finally spoke, his voice warm and a little raspy. "It really helps if you read." he gestured over to the various signs posted on the wall next to the counter, one of which displaying "Need Service? Please ring bell" in vibrant lettering and an arrow pointing to a shiny red bell below it. "Second of all," he continued, "I am paying attention." He pointed over to the group of giggling girls, who had moved on to a Justin Bieber album. " They aren't customers. They come in here every week after their hair appointments and never buy anything. Third of all," he briefly ducked behind the counter and stood back up with a form in his hand. He slid the small packet of papers across the counter and looked at the girl. "Fill this out, then we'll talk. Fair enough?"
 
"Sounds good to me.." Brittney grabbed the form and walked to an open wall space to lean against it while she filled the form out. It wasn't like Brittney to lie, but she didn't want to seem like a stereotypical rebel kid. Instead of age 17, she put her age as 18. She put her education down as, "Just graduated and looking for college." Both of which were lies. It wasn't to anyone's surprise that Brittney dropped out right at 16 so she could practice making music more. A few minutes later she drops the form on the desk. "There you go, all the info you need to know about me.. Right here."
 
Matt grabbed the form and skimmed over it, occasionally looking back up at her and returning to the form. He noticed that there were some spots left blank, such as insurance and emergency contact, but he wasn't concerned about those considering he left them blank himself when he applied. It wasn't necessary since he's the owner's son but he wanted to feel that he earned the job instead of having it given to him. "Well Brittany," he finally spoke. "Since you're an adult you need to provide two recommendations and proof of education, either a GED or diploma, and we need to do a background check as well. Family and friends will suffice for recommendations, we just need two working class people to say you're not a criminal and you have good work ethic. That okay?"
 
"S.hit.." Brittney muttered under her breath. How is she supposed to get recommendations when her 'friends and family' are all the way back in Georgia? "Uhm.." She said nervously, she wouldn't really consider herself a criminal. "My family is back at home, I can't really contact them right now, they're actually packing for a flight to Japan." Brittney internally slapped herself, that was possibly the dumbest excuse ever.
 
Matt blinked at Brittany for a while before looking down at the counter in silence. "I'll tell you what." he reached back under the desk and pulled out another application. "Why don't you fill out another one and this time fill it out honestly. I can't help you if you lie to me, Brittany... if that is your real name." he smiled before sitting back down in his chair and balling up the old application, preparing for a shot to the trash can on the far end of the counter.
 
Brittney rolled her eyes. "Fine.." She takes her pen from behind her ear and opens the form on the desk, writing down her actual education level, her age, and why she really wanted the job. On the previous form, she wrote the reason as she wanted to make money to save up for college. Her real reason was to find more music inspiration from older artists. "Don't freak out.." She mutters, pushing the form towards Matt.
 
This time Matt read the form thoroughly and slowly. He noticed the new age and the new education level, pausing briefly to take it all in. He didn't want to support a drop-out, but at the same time, he didn't want to abandon her and have her life go from bad to worse and feel himself take the blame.


He stood up from his seat and look at the girls giggling at vinyl covers and cleared his throat very loudly, forcing them to turn around in response. "If you're not going to buy anything, I highly suggest you get out before I become very irritable. This is a store, not a museum." The group scoffed before meandering their way out the door. Matt returned his attention to Brittany once again. "Well now, it appears we have a situation in our hands. On one hand I could call the police and have them take you back to wherever it is that you came from. On the other hand I could be a gracious and caring manager and give you sanctuary until you figure out whatever the hell it is that you're trying to do. Thankfully for you, I'm not good at being mean, so I'm going to make you a deal. I'll give you a job and a place to sleep and live and in exchange for my overwhelming kindness you finish school by enrolling at the school up the road here, Dunbridge High. Contrary to its awful name, it's bearable in academics and the sports teams are actually decent. At some point, I would like to hear your side of things. It doesn't have to be right now, just whenever your ready. I will have to talk to the owner about the arrangement, but I'm sure it will be no trouble, as long as the terms are met. He might want to change them up a bit but I'm sure you'll be satisfied with being here at all instead of...." he glances down at the application. "Georgia... Anyway, do we have a deal?"
 
"Yes!' Brittney exclaimed. "Thank you so much. I-I just.. Thank you!" Brittney smiled and restrained herself from hugging the life out of Matt. "I'll enroll, I'll graduate. Hell, at this rate I'll even go to college! Thank you so much!" Brittney was never this excited about anything, especially about school and work, but when it came to this she'd accept anything. "When do I start?" She smiles.
 
"You can start by taking a chill pill." Matt chuckled lightly and smiled. "There's no need to get all excited. It's pretty mellow around here on weekdays. You can put your things in the office in the back and and hang out here until closing. You are also more than welcome to explore the area, so long as you don't get lost. After that, I can take you to your place and set you up for tomorrow. You won't start work until you're enrolled. If there's anyone you want to contact, because I'm assuming you have no phone, you can use the phone and computer in the office." He brushed his sandy-colored hair out of his bright green eyes and reached in his pocket for his mp3 player. "If you need anything, I'll be right here holding down the fort," and with that he plopped back down into the chair and started scrolling through his music, his headphones still resting around his neck.
 
"Alright." Brittney nodded and looked toward the office, walking in and setting her bag on the desk before taking out her brush and eyeliner to do minor touchups for going shopping. She walked to the bathroom and fixed her hair, pulling it into a low ponytail and finding a bandana to wear. She grabbed her wallet and was out of the store before she knew it. "Ah, where to go.." She chuckles to herself, looking around and turning to walk down the road. About an hour or so later, Brittney is back with a bag of new vintage tees and distressed skinny jeans. It was her original style to wear anything with a vintage look to it. She walks to the office again to set her things down before sitting down and pulling out her mp3 and blasting Motley Crue in her headphones.
 
After finishing his discussion with Brittney, he watched her exit his presence before nodding to himself in confirmation and sliding his headphones gently over his ears as they surrounded him in a sea of Adam Levine, one of his guilty pleasures. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but he couldn't resist the feeling that the timbre of his falsetto gave him in his ears. While drifting away to one and a half albums of Maroon 5 he worked on adding another employee into the system: a Miss Brittney Lamar. The software was outdated and the hardware was stubborn, ignorant to most demands punched into the keyboard. He heaved a sigh of relief as he stared at the dull screen that illuminated Brittney's name on the roster. The idea of having a new face around gave him a small smile on his face. The last one was a drifter that rolled in from the mountains and brought the smell of the wilderness with him. He wasn't very hygienic and only stayed 3 weeks to chase after the other coast. Thankfully, this new face isn't necessarily a sight for sore eyes or smell for weak noses, making his life much easier.


Matt reached under the counter to retrieve his stash of ranch-flavored chips and promptly dropped them when the phone suddenly rang throughout the store. He muttered something under his breath pertaining to the death of the phone system set up in the store before picking up the phone and smiling, as if the caller could see them.


"Marteson Music, this is Matt..... No, I'm not having too much fun with it, it's just a coincidence.... Well you should've thought of that before you named your son Matt and shoved him in the manager position of your store.... Yeah, I know, sorry. Why are you calling the store phone?.... Uh-huh..... Yes I did.... Yes I did..... I'm sorry, I thought manager's were allowed to do that sort of thing, you know, being the manager and all..... Oh, please... We-well-well-.... DAD! Just come see for yourself alright? I'll show you that the place hasn't gone to hell and back since the addition. The situation is rather sensitive anyway and I need you here.... Just come over and all of your questions will be answered.... Yes.... I'm on it.... Anything else?... I'm sorry, I couldn't here that, you're breaking up," Matt began to vigorously rub the phone and purposely dropping it all around the counter before hanging it back up on the wall. He huffed and turned around as he met eyes with customers scattered around the store, staring blankly at him.


"Oh, you act like you don't have parents," he scoffed and started organizing papers and throwing things into a box, occasionally looking up to scan soon-to-be purchased goods and uttering a 'have a nice day' at the patient customers before returning to his work. Close to closing time he noticed Brittney wander back into the store, looking slightly different and carrying bags. He decided to hold off on speaking to her until the old man arrived, so he instead started tidying up aisles, rearranging CDs back into the order they are supposed to be in, flipping over the open sign, and locking the door. Not even ten minutes after walking away from the door, and older man with salt and pepper hair comes to the glass door and sticks a key into the lock, tugging on the door wildly before peeking in the glass to see his son sitting 5 feet away from him at the counter, staring at his father's struggle. Slowly, Matt meandered to the door and unlocked the keyhole, refusing to open it for him. The man shoved the door forward and flew to the counter, muttering indiscernible complaints, Matt being completely unaffected by it and closing and locking the door once more.


"I don't know why you insist on locking it before I'm even inside." The words started to make sense now.


"I didn't put the metal gate down this time, I think I'm making progress." Matt chuckled.


"Now's not the time for jokes. Where's the application."


"Please? What ever happened to please? This wouldn't be happening if you weren't so fraaaantic." Matt walked over to the counter and looked over at the man's frantic searching from the opposite side.


"Matt!"


"Under the keyboard."


"Why on earth would you put it there?!" he yanked it out from under the keyboard and sat down.


"And the whys begin. I just finished putting it into the computer, that's what I do when I haven't filed it yet but already programmed it in. Better than your system which, by the way, doesn't exist. Why are you making this such a big deal? Why are you being so frantic? Why are you stalking the employee roster of the store on your phone?"


"Why is she seventeen?! Where is the parent consent?? Where's proof of graduation, recommendations, ANYTHING?! Have you lost your mind?!" he threw down the application and started pacing by the vinyl.


"Go ahead, let it all out." Matt rolled his eyes and took the seat where his father was originally placed and picked up the application.


"You have NO idea who this girl is. Sure, she may be attractive..." he paused for confirmation from his son but failed to even make eye contact to the one who was now spinning around in the chair. "... but there is a line. We don't know anything about this girl."


"She's a runaway." Matt muttered quietly and stopped spinning, now facing his father.


"A runa-"


"Yes, I know. It's kind of illegal."


"KIND OF?!"


"... but I know she needs a place to stay, at least to figure things out in her minds. She just... ran here on impulse or something. It's obvious she has little to no contact with wherever she's from... it said Georgia on the sheet but nothing else... so that probably means she's alone. No home, no food, no money, nothing. I can't just leave here on the street, especially this part of town. I'd feel responsible if something had happened to her. I know you would have done something for her, I just did a bit more than you did. She needs a place to sleep, Dad. She needs a place to think. She needs help, and we can give it to her. I just need you to trust me."


Mr. Marteson stood still in silence before opening his mouth to speak. "And the girl?"


"Is in the office as we speak." Matt stood and looked over to the half-blinded window of the office to see Brittney listening to music on the couch by the window. He watched as Mr. Marteson slowly approached the door and lightly tapped on the door and speak quietly through the door.


"Erm...," he cleared his throat. "Brittney? This is Mr. Luke Marteson, Matt's father and owner of the store, including the office that you're sitting in. May I come in to my own property please?"


Matt rolled his eyes at the introduction and moved over to the door to join the conversation.
 
Brittney pulled out her ear buds. "I don't see why not. Let me guess, I can't work here because I'm a stupid rebel child." She says, rolling her eyes and sitting up. "Talk to me." Brittney pointed to the desk, turning her music off on her ipod and putting it in her backpack. She felt pressured to look professional so she sat as if she were some sort of business woman, which looked weird with her fire-engine red hair and massive amounts of piercings that she probably lied about her age to get. She sat back, not being able to keep the professional look for long. "Soo.." She bites her lip after an awkward silence.
 
"Well doesn't she seem pleasant..." Mr. Marteson scoffed as he entered the office. Matt quickly followed and closed the door behind him.


"She's not the best at giving decent first impressions, no." Matt reluctantly agreed and sat in the chair opposite the desk, completing the triangle of seating that had been formed.


"Why should I give her a chance if she's terrible at first impressions?! She'll scare off the customers!"


"If we had that many. Besides, she'll only be working part-time and only catch the crowd in her age range, and they are even worse in first impressions. It'll work out perfectly."


"Match made in heaven..." Mr. Marteson rolled his eyes and looked over Brittney before speaking to her. "And then you want us to assume you have good work ethic despite your... delightful attitude?" he blinked at Brittney, waiting for a response.
 
Brittney rolled her eyes. "Look, I might not be a little ray of sunshine to you but I need this job. Why did I decide to come here? There's this thing called inspiration. Without inspiration, my music is nothing. I know I have a terrible attitude but you tell me, have you ever had to watch as your talentless sibling got all the glory while you sat back and sang to yourself, hoping to change their minds?" Brittney sighs. "Obviously not.." She muttered and grabbed her bags. "I guess I'll be on my way, sorry for wasting your time."
 
"And where exactly do you have to go?" Matt was now scoffing. "Look, I'm trying to be nice here, but that attitude like the world owes you for something isn't going to cut it. So what if you had a hard time being noticed? That's called life! It gives you challenges, and you take them head on. Don't make it into an excuse to be sour towards people trying to help you out. No one else is going to give you what I offer. Why? because it's illegal. You, and everything that you're doing right now is ILLEGAL. All I was trying to do was give you a little sanctuary while you figure out your "inspiration", but I will not be treated this way for it."


"Now Matt..." Mr. Marteson moved closer to his son and reached to put his hand on his shoulder.


"No Dad," Matt moved away. "The least you and I deserve is a little respect for what we're risking reaching out to her." He turned to her, his eyes bright with fury. "I don't care what your excuse is, I will not tolerate you treating my father and me this way. You walk out that door, the offer goes with it." With that, he turned on his heel and swiftly left the office, turning the corner and heading towards the loft.


"Well, he certainly knows how to put a fine point on things...." Mr. Marteson shuffled awkwardly and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
 
"F.ucking hell.." Brittney muttered and pushed her way out of the office, heading for the door. "Thanks for nothing!" She shouted in Matt's direction before walking out into the busy street, heading to god-knows-where. She came across a dirty cheap motel and paid for a room with the money she had stolen from her mother, walking to her room and throwing her bag on the bathroom counter before taking a cold shower with whatever lurked in the drains. "Life is always like this, isn't it Britt?" She said to herself, drying herself off before getting dressed again. "Always have to prove people wrong, huh?"
 
Mr. Marteson didn't say anything as Brittney stormed out the store. Matt didn't either. The entire building was silent for a few moments before Mr. Marteson moved towards the front door and began to slide the metal gate shut and lock the door. He heaved a sigh and turned towards the loft where Matt was residing, flipping through albums he's seen a thousand times. When he felt there were eyes in his direction he moved over to the railing and looked down at his father.


"You don't have to say anything, I pretty much know what you're going to say. I'm sorry for trying. I'll have her out of the system by lunch tomorrow."


"Will I be expecting you to be late coming home tonight?" Mr. Marteson fiddled with the keys in his coat pocket.


"Don't expect anything." He moved away from the railing and went to back to attempting to distract himself from his thoughts. Mr. Marteson couldn't think of anything to say or do after that reply, so he shrugged his shoulders and headed towards the back door and left, locking the door behind him.
 
Brittney looked at the time, seeing it was only 9pm. She brushed her hair to the side and grabbed her denim jacket before leaving the hotel room and going downtown for a bit. She'd seen Mr. Marteson on her way to the tatto parlor and glared at him, pulling the door to the parlor open and walking in. It seemed like a coincidence for the tattoo parlor to be across from the music shop. "Hey, do you guys tattoo on 18-year-olds?" She said, pulling out a piece of paper from her pocket. It was a picture of a vinyl with retro neon writing across it saying, 'One day you'll make history.."
 
The man behind the counter took a moment from sucking back on what's left of a cigarette to look at the girl holding the picture of her prospective tattoo. "That depends...," he spoke, with remnants of smoke escaping the corners of his mouth. "You'd have to be an 18-year-old first. Got some I.D.?"
 
"Why wouldn't I?" Brittney grabbed her wallet from her pocket, grabbing her fake I.D. that she used to get her plane tickets to come here. She held her the I.D. between her fingers. "See?" She held up the I.D. in front of the man. She'd been pretty confident in the I.D. since it worked for nearly anything.
 
He glanced down at the I.D. and immediately noticed the Georgia peach in the corner of the card. "Oh lovely, a foreigner..." he sighed and looked closer at the picture. "Let's see here.... Oh no, we can't do this, at least not today. We're closing up soon and all of this color and shading, it'll take forever no matter where you put it. Come back tomorrow or something, perhaps at a much more decent hour and then we'll talk, eh?" The man pushed away the picture and turned towards the back of the store, shouting orders at unseen employees that were mostly likely causing the banging noises echoing around the corner.
 
"Sure." Brittney put her I.D. back in her wallet. "I'll be back." She said, turning around and walking out, seeing Matt still in the store and casting one of her death glares at him before walking down the street, pushing past groups of people and walking back to the motel to find that the door to her room had been broken into. All of her new stuff was gone. "Are you kidding me?!" She said, leaving the motel and walking back to the store. Now she really had nothing. She looked into the window and sat outside, hoping when Matt left that he'd use the front door. Banging on the window didn't seem like a good thing to do after being such a brat towards Matt and his father.
 
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