A Beautiful Mess

"Spencer Marie Faust!" Pops hollered.

"Go away," I groaned, pulling the covers over my head.

"Wake up, Princess!" He shouted. "We have plans today!"

Oh god. It was family day. Why did it have to be today? And why we're they both bursting in my flat like they lived here? I could have been in bed naked with some bloke! But let's be honest, they would love that. They would be overjoyed that I was getting laid. They would come in my room and sit and have a full on conversation with the bloke as if he hadn't just slept with their daughter the night before and done many unspeakable things to her.

"Can family day wait?" I mumbled. I poked the top of my head out from under the covers to just below my eyes. Pops shook his head. "You've skipped the last two family days. Either you come to this one or I shun you."

I groaned again. This time long and loud. "But it's so early."

Pops snorted. "It's ten in the morning, Spencer. Now get up and take a shower, yeah? You smell right horrid."

All I did was give him the one finger salute. He just chuckled and walked out of the room, but not before throwing open my curtains and starting the shower. Jesus Christ. I really hated him right now. My head was pounding, and not just from the massive hangover I had. Sleeping in my hearing aids was something I learned not to do a long time ago. I did it once right after I got them and I had the worst migraine the next morning. And that's what I get for getting plastered while DJing and having to be carried home by a security guard from the club. He didn't know to take them out and I wasn't in my right mind, so I fell asleep in them and now have a massive migraine that will last all bloody day.

"Fuck my life."


I didn't normally despise family day like I did today. My hangover was the main reason. And also because my fathers were talking about me. I didn't have to be able to hear to know that they were talking about me. I just had that feeling. Before I completely lost my hearing, I remember my friends' parents saying that when their ears were ringing that it meant someone was talking about them. My ears were ringing. But then again they did that a majority of the time, so I guess people were always talking about me. Not saying that to sound conceited at all, but it normally meant people were talking down on me. I didn't care. As long as they were talking about me, it meant I was on their minds. If I took up enough of their minds, I must be damn good at what I do.

"You can quit talking about me now," I spoke, signing as I did so. I got in the habit of doing it when my hearing aids weren't in. My parents did it all the time when I was around. Even when I had them in. Pops stopped babbling to Dad and looked at me with wide eyes. "We weren't talking about you, Princess," he spoke, signing along to his words.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "And I'm a virgin."

"Spencer, we are in public. That's no way to talk," Dad scolded. I gaped at him. "When has that ever stopped any of us?!"

"Princess, we are professional people with very professional pictures to uphold. We are lawyers and can't let our past, present, or future clients hear us talk in such a manner."

Oh my god. What the bloody hell?! They had never been like this before. Why now? I didn't understand that. At all. This honestly confused the shit out of me. And made me mad.

I shook my head with a dry laugh. "Whatever. I don't care. I'll just shut up and leave since I'm no longer allowed to be myself. Goodbye." And with that, I turned around and started walking away. If they were going to be that way, I wasn't going to have anything to do with them. I was an open person. I spoke my mind. And I didn't care what anyone thought. What came out of my mouth was either sarcasm or the brutal truth. Rarely some sweet things came out, but again rarely.

Instead of walking, I hailed a taxi. As soon as I climbed in, I told the guy where I wanted to go. He took off after starting the timer and expertly weaved in and out of the traffic. For it being a Sunday mid afternoon the streets were busy, but not as busy as they normally were.

I'm raiding your kitchen and you can't stop me.

I hit send and waited for Kale to respond.

At least go to the market for me.

Um, I refuse to spend my money on your food.

Go in my room and get in my closet. On the top shelf get in my Green Lantern light and take the top off. I have my secret stash in there.

Did you get the idea to hide your shit there from the Big Bang Theory? And thank you! Love you bunches, Kale!


One word for going to the market? HELL. Absolute hell. I swear when I died, my own personal hell was going to be the market and all it's daft workers and stupid people who don't know how to push a bloody trolley and not block the whole damn aisle and not let their heathen children run amuck.

"Hey, ma'am?" I questioned. She looked at me and smiled, and stopped stocking the shelves. "Yes, hun?" Don't look away lady. Just stay facing me so I can read your lips.

"Where is your pesto sauce? I can't seem to find it." Fake nice, Spencer. Always fooled people who didn't know me. "On aisle five with the pastas sauces at the top of the shelves. It should be at the beginning of the aisle," she replied.

I grinned. "Thank you so much." And with that, I walked off. I moved from aisle twelve down to aisle five. It was a hard task seeing as a rather large mother and her two children were in my way. I don't know why she'd have another one. Her two she had now seemed like spawns of Satan. The one she had on the way had no chance. He or she would end up worse, ten fold.

"Fucking ridiculous," I mumbled to myself. Jerking my cart to the left, I turned down the correct aisle. Finally.

Do you like pesto sauce?

Depends. Why?

I'm making dinner and it involves pesto sauce. So you either like it and eat or don't and starve.

Fine. I like it.

I placed my phone on top of my purse in the trolley where the children normally sat and scanned the shelves. Pesto sauce. Pesto sauce, where art thou pesto sauce? AH HA! But it was on the top shelf and even with my wedges I still couldn't reach it. So I resorted to scaling the shelves. It was very sketchy. My hand was two millimeters away from grabbing it when two arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me down. I went into attack mode; elbowing the invader of personal space.

"What the bloody fucking hell?!" I exclaimed. "Who the hell are you?! Didn't your mum teach you to never go around grabbing random people? Especially girls!" I was ranting. And more then likely causing a scene, but I didn't care. Once my eyes finally focused in on the person, they narrowed almost immediately.

Harry.

He started talking, but my mind was racing, going a mile a minute. Without so much as a second thought, I raised my hand to silence him. "Don't think that just because your a superstar means that you can go around grabbing random girls like that. And just because we 'sleep' together doesn't mean shit either," I spoke, my hands moving along as I did so.

His eyebrows shot up and would have disappeared behind his curls had they not been hidden under a beanie. "Why are you doing sign language?" He questioned. Fuck. I didn't want him to know. I didn't want Niall to know, but I had no other choice but to tell him. He was an incessant little bastard. The only people who were supposed to know were my parents, Ronnie, Finn and Kale.

"I grew up around it," I replied. It wasn't a lie. I did grow up around it. "I have to go. I gotta make Kale dinner." And with that said, I grabbed the pesto sauce out of his hand and spun around with my cart, leaving him in my figurative cloud of dust.

By the time all my bags had been loaded in the passenger seat of my car, my phone lit up and vibrated. I got it out of my purse as I started my car and checked my Twitter feed.

@Harry_Styles: Never trust a DJ

Wow. Okay. Wanna play that game? I can play better.

@SpencerMF: All you are 1s just another future washeD up popster. #RIPpopstar