––14––

“Dad, come on!” I yelled behind me, dragging the suitcases along side me. “Put that phone away before I chuck it.”

Ella, Dad and I decided to leave today –the coldest fucking day in LA so far– for England, a tradition we started doing shortly after Dad and Mom separated. My dad had managed to buy a small cottage in the country-side with a large yard and a pretty view to wake up to in the mornings. As a vacation house, it suited my family well enough.

England was going to be perfect. A small getaway was something my family needed at this point. We were damaged and dealing with the side effects fame had given us. Dad was always away at work, giving people a dream to have. Ella had to deal with having a famous sister, a mother who was a slight diva after her daughter became famous(emphasis on 'slight'), and a father who was barely at home. And me, damaged in every way due to words that have been exchanged.

Fame has ripped apart my family. My mother changed after I had become famous, selling hit singles and albums topping the charts. She wasn't the same kind hearted, loveable woman I used to adore and look up to. I barely saw my father anymore because he was too busy with his clients, making sure they had chart-topping singles just like me. He had slipped away, and was too busy with his work. He was too busy to notice how much in pain I was. My mother didn't even care anymore about my life. She had her own, involving her group of girls going to lavish parties, tea and wine tastings, and her salon visits. And Ella, my poor Ella.... she had to feel every member of her family being ripped away from her because of fame. She had to deal with people befriending her just to get close to us, using her for her fame. She was supposed to be normal, not this little girl dealing with loneliness. She didn't let it show, but I knew my baby sister well enough.

Fame has ruined this family to pieces, however, when it came to the small cottage in England, nothing else mattered. It was my dad, Ella and I being normal again. We weren't what the media depicted us to be, we weren't the family after I had become famous, and we weren't the family that were ripped to shreds. We were close, and loving.

Having my family back to normal, even for a little bit, was something I've loved. That's why the cottage has been my favorite place to be nowadays. Sometimes I flew out to England just to get away, and feel the love held in that one-story, garden-centered cottage, and remember the memories shared there.

It was a place of love, and nobody could take that away from my family and I.

“But Sophia, my client needs-”

I cut him off, clearly annoyed. “Needs to know that you're going on vacation, and they can shove it. Do I need to tell them that, or do you want to?”

I loved my dad, but sometimes he can be a bit addicted to his work. I hated it, the fact that he spent so much more time with his own clients then Ella and I. These next three weeks, though, I wasn't allowing him to touch his phone. In fact, I wasn't even going to allow him near any electronics. I knew my father well enough that I had done this previous Holidays.

“No,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. My dad knew defeat when he saw it. Thank God for that. “I'll email them on the way to the airport.”

Our driver, which I hired, tapped his wrist where a silver watch had been placed. He seemed to be annoyed at our small banter, but regardless, he said nothing. He didn't even mutter a word the moment he appeared.

Shoving my suitcases in the back beside Ella's and my father's, I trudged towards the back seat, behind the driver. Ella had already placed herself in the back, claiming she didn't want to stand in the cold. (December in LA was usually the coldest of all months.) It was a whopping of 38⁰F. Usually, it wouldn't bother me much considering my home state was Minnesota (with winter temperatures of 0⁰ and below), but the wind had changed my mind on this cold day.

“Alright,” I sighed, glanced at my Dad, who preferred to sit up front. “Let's get going.”

❄❄❄❄❄

I smiled up at the sky. It was the same sky back at home, but this time, I was looking at it from a different ground. A wind pushed my hair in front of my face, and a small giggle left my lips. The smell of a foreign country, exhaust from running cars, and coffee wafted to my nostrils, and I couldn't help but enjoy the smell.

It smells so...English, I thought.

“Come on, Sof,” Ella nudged me, “We've got a car waiting for us.”

I smiled down at my little sister, and ruffled her hair. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I dragged my suitcases towards the running black car. Since we had a car already waiting for us at the cottage and not the airport, we had to hire someone to drive us back to the Holiday home.

After piling our suitcases in the back, we climbed inside the black suburban. The suburban was filled with chatter of the next few weeks; where we'd go for Christmas shopping, what new decorations we'd buy for our Christmas tree, or the different places we'd go to in England.

The car ride took no more than an hour. Having spent it talking with Ella and Dad about England had gotten me plenty excited about the three weeks here. In my head, I thought of all the things we would do—ice skate, shopping, playing in the snow, visit London...

By the time the suburban pulled into the gravel driveway leading to the cottage, I was bouncing in my seat with excitement. We were finally here!

I stumbled out of the suburban faster than anyone else, my eyes landing on the cottage I loved so much. The shutters were closed, sealing off any entrance inside besides the door. Vines were still climbing up the brick walls of the cottage, claiming it as theirs. The bush wall, closing off part of our property, looked like it had been trimmed; I was glad that the care-taker had been at least grooming the yard. The brown picket fence was still there, keeping unwanted guests off our property. The cottage was just as I left it months ago.

Home sweet home, I thought.

I may lived in a condo in LA, but my heart truly did belong here in England in this small cottage. Nothing made me happier than spending my days drinking tea or hot chocolate, reading a book, or relaxing in this cottage. It was home.

“Sofia, come get your bags!” I heard Dad call.

I sighed, and turned my back on the cottage. As soon as I had dragged my suitcases out of the suburban, I dragged them towards the door with keys in hand. I fumbled with them for a moment before I managed to unlock the cottage and step inside. When I had, a feeling of warmth filled my insides.

The smell of cinnamon, apples and bark drifted to my nose. Everything was just as I had left it. The TV was still off, the book shelf was still neat and tidy, and the pictures on the wall were still straight and angled perfectly. Nothing had changed in this cottage.

“It's good to be back,” I heard Ella murmur beside me.

I grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You know what, Ella? It is. It's great to be back.”

An hour later, I had everything unpacked and settled in my room. I was making my way downstairs when my phone buzzed with a text.

Harry—I haven't talked to you in four days. I miss you, call me or something.

A small, childish grin made it's way to my lips as I sat down on the couch, already dialing Harry's number. Three rings passed before I heard Harry's unmistakeable, raspy voice.

“Sofia, hi,” he sounded breathless.

My cheeks turned pink at the sound of his voice. Not talking to Harry for a while did some damage to me. And now that I had heard his voice, his slow, raspy, English-accented voice, I couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness.

“Hi, Harry,” I grinned as I spoke his name.

“Wait, what time is it? Isn't it early in the morning in LA?”

A giggle surpassed my lips, knowing my answer would give my real location away. “Uh, nope. It's in the afternoon, nearing one o'clock actually.”

“Wait...” I listened closely has Harry paused, shuffling on the other line. When he started talking again, I couldn't help but laugh. “You're in England! Why didn't you tell me sooner? Does this mean we can finally hang out properly again?”

The mention of hanging out with Harry again made my heart flutter. I've missed him so much, hanging out with him would make me the happiest girl. “Yeah, we can hang out as much as you want. I'm staying here for the holidays, in the country-side, for three weeks.”

“Yes!” I pictured Harry thrusting a closed fist in the air, making me chuckle. “Alright, we're going to hang out right away tomorrow. You arrived today didn't you?” when I gave him a satisfying 'mhm', he continued, “Alright, that's what I thought. You wouldn't have called otherwise. Anyway, you're probably really tired, so I'm going to let you go relax, okay? Jet lag's a bitch.”

At the mention of jet lag, I felt fatigued. I knew I'd be jet lagged, I guess the excitement of arriving at the cottage overtook the fatigue.

“Alright,” I managed to say without yawning. “I'll talk to you tomorrow then.”

“Of course,” Harry replied. Seconds later, a dial tone was sounding in my ears.

Placing the phone down, I couldn't help but grin to myself. Harry and I's conversation was extremely short, only lasting a few minutes. However, it was enough to set me at ease. At least I'd heard his voice.

And there was a promise of hanging out tomorrow, I thought.

“Sofia, was that Harry?” Ella sat down next to me.

I nodded my head, the grin still on my face, as I turned on the television. Mindlessly, I flicked through the channels until I saw a Christmas special that was worth watching.

“Mm, I guessed right then,” Ella chuckled.

My interest piqued, I raised an eyebrow as I glanced at my sister, who was now hugging a pillow to her chest. Her eyes were still on the Christmas special I had chosen just moments ago. “How could you tell it was Harry?”

“By your pink cheeks, and grin,” Ella casually said. “You obviously like him.”

My cheeks turned a bright red at the accusation. “No, I don't! Harry's just a friend, Ella. There's no way I like him. Nope, no way.”

Ella scoffed, but didn't bother saying anything. Just by the look on her face I knew she doubted me. As I pushed the accusation aside and turned back to the Christmas special, I couldn't help but think: did I honestly like Harry in that way?

 _______________________________

Ayeee, so your thoughts on this...?

Sorry it took me forever to write this. Literally, all week I've been struggling with this chapter for reasons. Anyway, this is the first chapter written since my hiatus (reason for not updating this book, or any of my other books) which was like a full week. I had to get in the writer's motion again, so sorry for that.. I promise, there won't be another hiatus. 

Anyway so new cover, to the side>>. I hope you guys like this chapter♥

-Chey xx