We'll Sing It Back
One.
"Shit, guys, shit!" He ran through the room with his hands pulling on his brown hair and a look that was a mixture of confusion, terror and uncertainty distorting the pretty features of his face.
It wasn't known to anyone in the room at that time why William Beckett was so stressed though within a few minutes they would know. It never even crossed any one of their minds that it might have something to do with the arrival of his cousin whom he'd said a few days earlier had ended a relationship on a bad note and had nowhere to stay.
Being the kind person that he is, and majorly terrified of his twenty-year-old cousin, William Beckett agreed to let her stay with him for the time being. It wouldn't be a problem, seeing as his girlfriend was living in an apartment with a friend closer to her college.
"She's here!" He cried out. "My cousin, Hanna Jane Osment, has arrived at my house!"
"What's the big deal?" Adam asked, not looking up from the video game that he was playing with Michael Carden. The other person in the room, whose name was Michael Chislett, raised an eyebrow at his friend and questioned, "Yeah, haven't you been expecting her for like a week and a half now?"
"Yes - but - no - but - she's an hour early!" William exclaimed, biting down on his thumbnail. He should've known that she was going to be early; she was early for everything. He should've planned in advance so as to avoid the stress that he was experiencing now.
Hanna Jane Osment was what one might call 'a force to be reckoned with'. She was extremely independent, childish and selfish, sarcastic, short-tempered, bossy and very sure of herself.
From the age of five she knew that she wanted to be a model. From the age of seven she was enrolled with three modelling agencies across the forty-eight continental states and she'd already had so many jobs. At eleven she starred in several television advertisements, one of which was shown overseas.
William could recall his thirteenth Christmas when his cousin was soon turning twelve. She had taken over his entire room and forced him to listen to several non-stop hours of the Spice Girls and other such artists of the same (intolerable) genre.
Though throughout the entire horrifying ordeal William didn't utter a word for fear of the pain that his cousin might inflict on him. No one wished to irritate or anger that girl when she was at such a temperamental age.
"Wait, which cousin is this?" Andy asked as he walked into the living room of his friend's apartment, sipping a carton of milk.
"The fat one or the ugly one?" Michael Carden asked. His bright red sports car swerved to avoid another blue car that was being controlled by the game console.
"No, no," William huffed, straightening out the pillows and smoothing out the sofa.
"The pyromaniac or the kleptomaniac?" the other Michael said. He laughed as two blue cars crashed into each other and the drivers were flung onto the road with their limbs at odd angles.
However by this time Hanna had already reached the front door and when the doorbell rang all five men stopped what they were doing and peered out of the doorway and into the hall. Through the window in the door they could make out Hanna's form and frowning expression.
"Oh good God," Andy mumbled, squeezing the last of the milk carton's contents through the straw and into his mouth, "It's the angry one. I'm leaving through the back door."
William's other friends nodded in agreement, ignoring Will's pleading look, and followed Andy out of the second living room door on their way out of his apartment.
"William!"
With trembling fingers and two front teeth that were threatening to bite a hole in his bottom lip, William Beckett walked to his front door and opened it for his cousin. The fear was written all over his face.
And it wasn't that he didn't love his cousin, because he did and she was probably his favourite, but he was utterly and truly afraid at her. Especially at times like these when she wasn't in one of her best moods.
"Hi there, cous'," he plastered a smile on his face and stepped aside so she could come in.
Hanna's blue eyes scanned the hallway and the pictures that were on its walls. She tried her best to ignore the strong odour of men and the sticky fingerprints that covered everything from door handles to windowsills to discarded cartons of milk on the living room floor.
"Nice place," she grumbled sarcastically and with that Hanna Jane Osment stomped down the hallway, into the guest room and slammed the door behind her.
William could tell, from her sarcastic and irritable manner, that it would be a long time before she emerged from her new room.
"And just as well too," he muttered, retreating to the empty living room and turning on the television. He did love her but he could do without his younger cousin.
It wasn't known to anyone in the room at that time why William Beckett was so stressed though within a few minutes they would know. It never even crossed any one of their minds that it might have something to do with the arrival of his cousin whom he'd said a few days earlier had ended a relationship on a bad note and had nowhere to stay.
Being the kind person that he is, and majorly terrified of his twenty-year-old cousin, William Beckett agreed to let her stay with him for the time being. It wouldn't be a problem, seeing as his girlfriend was living in an apartment with a friend closer to her college.
"She's here!" He cried out. "My cousin, Hanna Jane Osment, has arrived at my house!"
"What's the big deal?" Adam asked, not looking up from the video game that he was playing with Michael Carden. The other person in the room, whose name was Michael Chislett, raised an eyebrow at his friend and questioned, "Yeah, haven't you been expecting her for like a week and a half now?"
"Yes - but - no - but - she's an hour early!" William exclaimed, biting down on his thumbnail. He should've known that she was going to be early; she was early for everything. He should've planned in advance so as to avoid the stress that he was experiencing now.
Hanna Jane Osment was what one might call 'a force to be reckoned with'. She was extremely independent, childish and selfish, sarcastic, short-tempered, bossy and very sure of herself.
From the age of five she knew that she wanted to be a model. From the age of seven she was enrolled with three modelling agencies across the forty-eight continental states and she'd already had so many jobs. At eleven she starred in several television advertisements, one of which was shown overseas.
William could recall his thirteenth Christmas when his cousin was soon turning twelve. She had taken over his entire room and forced him to listen to several non-stop hours of the Spice Girls and other such artists of the same (intolerable) genre.
Though throughout the entire horrifying ordeal William didn't utter a word for fear of the pain that his cousin might inflict on him. No one wished to irritate or anger that girl when she was at such a temperamental age.
"Wait, which cousin is this?" Andy asked as he walked into the living room of his friend's apartment, sipping a carton of milk.
"The fat one or the ugly one?" Michael Carden asked. His bright red sports car swerved to avoid another blue car that was being controlled by the game console.
"No, no," William huffed, straightening out the pillows and smoothing out the sofa.
"The pyromaniac or the kleptomaniac?" the other Michael said. He laughed as two blue cars crashed into each other and the drivers were flung onto the road with their limbs at odd angles.
However by this time Hanna had already reached the front door and when the doorbell rang all five men stopped what they were doing and peered out of the doorway and into the hall. Through the window in the door they could make out Hanna's form and frowning expression.
"Oh good God," Andy mumbled, squeezing the last of the milk carton's contents through the straw and into his mouth, "It's the angry one. I'm leaving through the back door."
William's other friends nodded in agreement, ignoring Will's pleading look, and followed Andy out of the second living room door on their way out of his apartment.
"William!"
With trembling fingers and two front teeth that were threatening to bite a hole in his bottom lip, William Beckett walked to his front door and opened it for his cousin. The fear was written all over his face.
And it wasn't that he didn't love his cousin, because he did and she was probably his favourite, but he was utterly and truly afraid at her. Especially at times like these when she wasn't in one of her best moods.
"Hi there, cous'," he plastered a smile on his face and stepped aside so she could come in.
Hanna's blue eyes scanned the hallway and the pictures that were on its walls. She tried her best to ignore the strong odour of men and the sticky fingerprints that covered everything from door handles to windowsills to discarded cartons of milk on the living room floor.
"Nice place," she grumbled sarcastically and with that Hanna Jane Osment stomped down the hallway, into the guest room and slammed the door behind her.
William could tell, from her sarcastic and irritable manner, that it would be a long time before she emerged from her new room.
"And just as well too," he muttered, retreating to the empty living room and turning on the television. He did love her but he could do without his younger cousin.