Take My Hand, Let's Get Famous

Every morning, before he goes to work, my father drops me off at school. When school is over, my mother is always there to pick me up. This is a part of their tactics to make sure that I don't escape from them. The only times they're not around somewhere are while I'm at school and when I'm home alone.

About the only good thing they've ever done for me is put into private school. And even that was so that they could be sure I wouldn't get away. The school I go to is renowned for it's security. No one gets in or out until the school day ends.

My house is also like a prison. None of the exterior doors can be unlocked from the inside unless a key is used and all the windows have locks on them. I'm lucky that my parents haven't put bars on them. From the outside my house looks like a mansion - but all the gardening is credited towards the hired gardener who comes twice a week since I'm not allowed outside. I can't even walk from the car to the front door, my mum parks in the garage and I have to go in through a door that leads to the laundry. Inside is exactly what you'd expect from a house of such grandeur. Fancy high ceilings, hard wood floors, a large staircase, made entirely of marble, with decorative banisters and balusters, along with long hallways with large paintings of "previous" family members. To add to the "prison" feeling there were cameras everywhere. I didn't know where, but I had overheard my parents talking about them before.

I was walking down one of the many halls in the house one afternoon. Both my parents were out, father at work and mother at the beauty salon. I had been given instructions to cook a fancy, three course meal, because my parents were throwing a dinner party with some of their friends. I had just placed the roast chicken in the oven when the doorbell had rung.

I made my way towards the front door slowly, wondering how I would "answer" the door when I couldn't actually open it.

"Hello!?" I called through the door, wondering if whoever was out there would be able to hear me.

"Hey?" A male voice yelled back sounding confused. "Can you open the door?" He asked.

"No." I said. My parents didn't like me telling people that they locked the doors from the outside and I knew that if I told anyone this they'd find out. As well as cameras there was microphones. "My parents don't like me talking to strangers." I lied.

"Well, can we at least speak through a window or something so I can see you?" He asked.

"I guess." I said unsure, "Go to the one closest on the left."

"Okay." I could faintly hear him walking over to the window and I walked into the living room quickly to meet him.

Standing outside was one of the cutest guys I had ever seen. He was about my age and had short black hair that he wore spiked up with gel and his dark skin looked like milk chocolate. I had never eaten milk chocolate - or any chocolate - before but that was definitely the best way to describe his skin. He had beautiful, deep brown eyes and you could tell that he worked out.

"Sorry to bother you." He said. "But I was playing football with some of my friends out in the street and our ball flew into your back yard. Do you think I could go get it?" He spoke directly to me and scratched the back of his neck. I was mesmerized by him.

"Errr. I'm sorry no. I can't get out, let alone let you in." I said with a sad laugh.

"Oh. Wait - what do you mean you "Can't get out"?" He asked and looked at me funny.

"Nothing." I said. It looked like he didn't like my answer but moved on anyway.

"How come I've never seen you around before?" He then asked.

I bit my lip and tried to figure out something good to say to him, "I don't get out much."

"Okay.... What school do you go to?" I was coming to think this kid was pretty nosy.

"Oi! Taylor are you getting are ball back or just flirting?" Another guy had come up to my living room window and joined us. I blushed and hoped that the cute boy, who as apparently Taylor, wouldn't see it.

"Nahh. I can't. We'll just have to do something else." Taylor said and looked at me sheepishly. The other boy looked outraged but didn't say anything and just walked off, looking at me over his shoulder angrily.

"Sorry about him." Taylor said. "I better go." He moved his head in the direction of his friends.

"Yeah." I said and began to turn away to get back to my cooking.

"I'm Taylor Lautner by the way." I looked at him over my shoulder as he spoke.

"Kaya Harris." I said in return.

"See you around Kaya." He smiled at me and then walked back towards his friends.