(This has been a draft for a while, I despise it. Did not like finishing it. Hope it explodes. Not even going to proofread it [as if i ever do, anyway].)
I pulled my heavy, ginger hair into a messy bun. But the curls are not lengthy enough to sit inside a hair band, and they fall back down to rest down on my head. I grab my favorite green hat and pile all of my hair inside of that, instead.
"Kyle!" I hear my mom roughly call from downstairs, "Come downstairs, someone important is here!" My heart skips a beat. Someone important? Who could it be?
I rush myself, slipping into my favorite orange jacket. I throw on a random pair of shoes and start stomping down the stairs, not bothering to take the time to brush my teeth. I really look like a mess!
I nearly slip as I reach the end of the staircase, quickly regaining my balance and snapping my head up.
My mom is sitting in her usual spot, a dirty sofa chair that lies alone in the living area. She's smoking a cigarette, something she usually doesn't do unless something good happens. And according to her, that isn't very often. There's barely any light, the only source coming from the kitchen, where another figure can distantly be seen.
"Sweety," My mom starts after taking a long drag of the smoke, "There's been something your father and I have been planning on telling you for quite some time."
My father's hardly ever home, he's a very busy and famous lawyer. Well, more like infamous. He's awful at his job. That's why we don't have any money. At least, that's what my mom tells me.
I stand quietly as I let her continue. I feel a creeping feeling begin to fill me as I await her words. She's forming them quite oddly.
"You know our family isn't all that well off. And what little we have we spend on your younger brother's education... So we had to arrange something to keep everything going," She explains.
Suddenly, the person in the kitchen emerges, holding a plate in their hands.
"U-Uhm... Lorde..?!" I gasp in surprise.
And I would be right to guess so, as she was right there in front of me. Although, she looked a bit different...
"Oh, so you already know her! Perfect," My mom comments, looking between the two of us, "Well, Kyle, I want you to listen closely. We've been offered a lot of money, but you need to properly cooperate and provide your services."
I look at my mom, confused, "Services? Like what?"
"Uh, look, bud," Lorde starts, trying to appear welcoming. But they've just been standing in an awkward position with one of your plates for a short while, "Your parents reached out saying they needed extra cash. And I could use help out on my farm. So I offered to take you in for a year or two..." They trail off as my expression falls.
"Mom?" I question. I'm incredibly concerned. I turn to look at her, only met with a deadpan expression, "I'm going away? For two years?" I ask, hoping it isn't true.
But she only nods her head in response, "Kyle, you know how we need this. So we're selling you to Lorde. Apparently, she has a son just your age! Which doesn't make sense. How can a 25-year-old have a 14-year-old son?"
"Uhm, that doesn't matter," Lorde waves off, "And don't tell anyone, he's a secret."
I scurry to my mom frantically. I never beg, even when nothing goes my way. But this truly was different, "Mom! No! I don't understand, I can't go away! What about school? And Ike? Will I get to visit?"
"No, honey," My mom states simply, "We'll be traveling across the country to live a life of luxury while you're gone. Like a long vacation. We're going to live off of the large paychecks you'll be making us. You're doing such a good job."
