Status: In progress.
Take These Storms Away
First encounters.
When this memory fades, I’m going to make sure it’s replaced with chances taken, hope embraced.
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Sunday 22nd April, 2007
Alyssa Carter currently aged fourteen was running through the now empty halls of Wembley Arena in search of her Dad. The concert had ended hours ago but her and her Father had remained behind in order to get interviews and photographs with the three bands that had been playing; Aiden followed by Taking Back Sunday then headlined by Lostprophets. However, the young teenager had been split from her only parent when she’d been talking to Wil Francis, the vocalist of Aiden.
“Dad!” she yelled, a frown upon her face. Even as a child, she was short tempered and the fact she hadn’t found him instantly caused her to let out a frustrated huff. In her hand she was clutching a ticket, her ticket, which was freshly signed by the singer she’d just been speaking with, a possession she was now going to treasure forever. A possession she had every intention of showing her Father the second she found him.
“Dad, this isn’t funny anymore!” she yelled again, walking the empty halls somewhat cautiously. All the lights were off and she couldn’t hear a sound, not even the staff who were probably working around the arena were in sight. As she rounded a corner, she ended up face-planting into someone’s chest causing a squeal to resonate from her lips and an ‘ooft’ from the male figure she’d crashed into. Stumbling back in shock, she suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her back to stop her from falling. “Easy there, kid,” an all too familiar accent echoed through the halls.
Composing herself, Alyssa untangled herself from the muscular, tattooed arms that had been around her. She hated physical contact from anybody, even her friends, let alone a stranger - even if she did recognise the fact she’d just crashed into Ian Watkins of Lostprophets.
“What are you doin’ walking around by yourself?” he asked, his eyebrow raising.
“I could ask you the same thing. Where’s your entourage of fan girls?” was her response, her voice coated with its usual snarky tone. She was capable of looking after herself; she could walk around an arena by herself without protection. Ian looked slightly taken aback causing Alyssa to smirk triumphantly.
“Ouch,” he chuckled, feigning hurt before shaking his head. “You look lost, who ya lookin’ for?”
“My Dad, he looks like a hippie. Bald, messy, might not be wearing shoes.”
“He’s back with the rest of the boys. Want me to take you?” He gestured in the general direction in which he’d been coming from.
“I don’t like escorts. They always expect something at the end of it,” she chirped merrily, not that she really had experience in what escorts wanted but none the less; she wasn’t a little girl who needed to be lead around. Yes, she realised he was just being polite and yes, she was being rude to someone she actually admired but never once did Alyssa ever drop her façade, never showed she cared about anything. She’d been that way since she was eight years old and she wasn’t going to change in one night over some rock star.
Walking off in the way he’d gestured, she kept her eyes peeled and her ears strained for any sight or sound of her Father. Her focus was distracted, however, when she could see someone walking beside her out of the corner of her eye. “Can I help you?” she snapped, realising Ian was alongside her.
“You’re going the wrong way, you were meant to turn left down the last corridor,” he informed her, a cheeky grin flickering onto his face. She frowned, turning sharply and heading back to the corridor he was referring to but he seemed to keep up with her, walking perfectly in time with one another. Curse the fact she was shorter than him.
She let out a sigh of relief upon spotting the familiar face of Robert Carter emerging from a side room and she instantly rushed towards him, throwing her arms around him and looking up at him lovingly. Her Father was the exception to all her rules. He was the only person in the world that mattered to her, he was the only family she had and at the same time he was her best friend.
“There you are, Alyssa,” Robert sighed in relief as his grinning daughter ran towards him, his arms wrapping around her as she threw herself at him. Spotting Ian with her, Robert nodded his head and smile gratefully. “Thank you, Ian,” he said, receiving a ‘no problem’. Alyssa blinked several times and quickly released her Father.
“He didn’t return me like I’m some kind of stray dog,” she snapped, a frown appearing on her face again. Her Father merely chuckled, he was used to Alyssa’s attitude, and he probably didn’t help it by encouraging it sometimes. “What’s that in your hand?” he asked, deviating her disapproval of his politeness towards the vocalist.
“It’s signed,” she chirped happily, her eyes lighting up as she held up the ticket for him to see. It was her first autograph and she was damn proud of it.
“Want me to sign it too, luv?” Ian enquired, his cheeky grin still on his lips. In honesty, Alyssa had forgotten he was there so his voice took her by surprise due to the fact her being too focused on looking up at her Father, waiting for his congratulations.
“Eh?” she replied, diverting her eyes from Robert’s face and to Ian. Typical Alyssa. Standing with one of her idols and acting like she didn’t give a damn in the world. Being spoken to by Ian Watkins and not even registering it fully. 'Way to go, Alyssa, make an idiot of yourself...' her mind yelled at her, even though she had been deliberately cruel earlier. She felt a little regret but she wouldn’t let that be known.
Shrugging as if it were just a casual situation, she nodded her head and held out the ticket and pulled out the sharpie she had in her pocket, handing it to him. “Yes, please,” She replied. Her Dad merely began chuckling at her and affectionately ruffled her hair, knowing what was probably going through her head. He could read his daughter like a book.
“There ya are,” Ian said, handing back the ticket to Alyssa once his name was squiggled in black ink upon the flimsy paper. He received a quiet ‘thank you’ before she quickly retreated to stand directly beside her Dad. Robert wrapped his arm around her and softly kissed the top of her head causing the young girl to smile sweetly. Normal teenagers would have been embarrassed and disgusted at the display of affection with a parent but Alyssa loved it, craved it almost. After all, Robert Carter was the only family she had. Everyone else had left them without so much as a goodbye.
“Well, we better be heading off. Early flight tomorrow,” Robert declared with a small, polite nod and a grin, shaking hands with Ian. “Thanks for the interview and pictures, I’ll send you guys the pictures so you can see them once I sort through them,” he added.
Brief goodbyes were shared before Robert steered his daughter away back through the empty halls that she’d been running through minutes ago. However, Alyssa couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder for a final look at a memory that would never leave her.
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Sunday 22nd April, 2007
Alyssa Carter currently aged fourteen was running through the now empty halls of Wembley Arena in search of her Dad. The concert had ended hours ago but her and her Father had remained behind in order to get interviews and photographs with the three bands that had been playing; Aiden followed by Taking Back Sunday then headlined by Lostprophets. However, the young teenager had been split from her only parent when she’d been talking to Wil Francis, the vocalist of Aiden.
“Dad!” she yelled, a frown upon her face. Even as a child, she was short tempered and the fact she hadn’t found him instantly caused her to let out a frustrated huff. In her hand she was clutching a ticket, her ticket, which was freshly signed by the singer she’d just been speaking with, a possession she was now going to treasure forever. A possession she had every intention of showing her Father the second she found him.
“Dad, this isn’t funny anymore!” she yelled again, walking the empty halls somewhat cautiously. All the lights were off and she couldn’t hear a sound, not even the staff who were probably working around the arena were in sight. As she rounded a corner, she ended up face-planting into someone’s chest causing a squeal to resonate from her lips and an ‘ooft’ from the male figure she’d crashed into. Stumbling back in shock, she suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her back to stop her from falling. “Easy there, kid,” an all too familiar accent echoed through the halls.
Composing herself, Alyssa untangled herself from the muscular, tattooed arms that had been around her. She hated physical contact from anybody, even her friends, let alone a stranger - even if she did recognise the fact she’d just crashed into Ian Watkins of Lostprophets.
“What are you doin’ walking around by yourself?” he asked, his eyebrow raising.
“I could ask you the same thing. Where’s your entourage of fan girls?” was her response, her voice coated with its usual snarky tone. She was capable of looking after herself; she could walk around an arena by herself without protection. Ian looked slightly taken aback causing Alyssa to smirk triumphantly.
“Ouch,” he chuckled, feigning hurt before shaking his head. “You look lost, who ya lookin’ for?”
“My Dad, he looks like a hippie. Bald, messy, might not be wearing shoes.”
“He’s back with the rest of the boys. Want me to take you?” He gestured in the general direction in which he’d been coming from.
“I don’t like escorts. They always expect something at the end of it,” she chirped merrily, not that she really had experience in what escorts wanted but none the less; she wasn’t a little girl who needed to be lead around. Yes, she realised he was just being polite and yes, she was being rude to someone she actually admired but never once did Alyssa ever drop her façade, never showed she cared about anything. She’d been that way since she was eight years old and she wasn’t going to change in one night over some rock star.
Walking off in the way he’d gestured, she kept her eyes peeled and her ears strained for any sight or sound of her Father. Her focus was distracted, however, when she could see someone walking beside her out of the corner of her eye. “Can I help you?” she snapped, realising Ian was alongside her.
“You’re going the wrong way, you were meant to turn left down the last corridor,” he informed her, a cheeky grin flickering onto his face. She frowned, turning sharply and heading back to the corridor he was referring to but he seemed to keep up with her, walking perfectly in time with one another. Curse the fact she was shorter than him.
She let out a sigh of relief upon spotting the familiar face of Robert Carter emerging from a side room and she instantly rushed towards him, throwing her arms around him and looking up at him lovingly. Her Father was the exception to all her rules. He was the only person in the world that mattered to her, he was the only family she had and at the same time he was her best friend.
“There you are, Alyssa,” Robert sighed in relief as his grinning daughter ran towards him, his arms wrapping around her as she threw herself at him. Spotting Ian with her, Robert nodded his head and smile gratefully. “Thank you, Ian,” he said, receiving a ‘no problem’. Alyssa blinked several times and quickly released her Father.
“He didn’t return me like I’m some kind of stray dog,” she snapped, a frown appearing on her face again. Her Father merely chuckled, he was used to Alyssa’s attitude, and he probably didn’t help it by encouraging it sometimes. “What’s that in your hand?” he asked, deviating her disapproval of his politeness towards the vocalist.
“It’s signed,” she chirped happily, her eyes lighting up as she held up the ticket for him to see. It was her first autograph and she was damn proud of it.
“Want me to sign it too, luv?” Ian enquired, his cheeky grin still on his lips. In honesty, Alyssa had forgotten he was there so his voice took her by surprise due to the fact her being too focused on looking up at her Father, waiting for his congratulations.
“Eh?” she replied, diverting her eyes from Robert’s face and to Ian. Typical Alyssa. Standing with one of her idols and acting like she didn’t give a damn in the world. Being spoken to by Ian Watkins and not even registering it fully. 'Way to go, Alyssa, make an idiot of yourself...' her mind yelled at her, even though she had been deliberately cruel earlier. She felt a little regret but she wouldn’t let that be known.
Shrugging as if it were just a casual situation, she nodded her head and held out the ticket and pulled out the sharpie she had in her pocket, handing it to him. “Yes, please,” She replied. Her Dad merely began chuckling at her and affectionately ruffled her hair, knowing what was probably going through her head. He could read his daughter like a book.
“There ya are,” Ian said, handing back the ticket to Alyssa once his name was squiggled in black ink upon the flimsy paper. He received a quiet ‘thank you’ before she quickly retreated to stand directly beside her Dad. Robert wrapped his arm around her and softly kissed the top of her head causing the young girl to smile sweetly. Normal teenagers would have been embarrassed and disgusted at the display of affection with a parent but Alyssa loved it, craved it almost. After all, Robert Carter was the only family she had. Everyone else had left them without so much as a goodbye.
“Well, we better be heading off. Early flight tomorrow,” Robert declared with a small, polite nod and a grin, shaking hands with Ian. “Thanks for the interview and pictures, I’ll send you guys the pictures so you can see them once I sort through them,” he added.
Brief goodbyes were shared before Robert steered his daughter away back through the empty halls that she’d been running through minutes ago. However, Alyssa couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder for a final look at a memory that would never leave her.