CHAPTER 1 + 2, TINSEL

CHAPTER 1

            London is usually one of the noisiest cities in the world. With seven and a half million people in one city along the Thames, it’s bound to happen. Once you Whether you’re in a pub or in your house, the noises of London will slowly creep into your ears, toward your brain, until you can’t help but be converted into a Londoner yourself, making all the same noises. In the pub, you’ll always hear the cheers of crazed soccer fans.

            You’re sitting in the corner of the bar, drinking a strong pint of Guinness, watching the spectators surround the TV. They might be wearing different team jerseys, but they’re united in one fact: they fucking love soccer. They can’t get enough of it. Whether they’re team is losing terribly or winning by a few goals, they’ll still be happy. Still be cheering on their team, still be having a great time. You can’t help but giggle, watching them high five each other with one hand, spilling the Guinness they have in the other.

            Yet on Christmas Eve in London , there’s nothing to be heard. Not a sound coming from Camden all the way down to Chelsea. The families are all inside, sharing dinner and Christmas stories with each other, waiting for Santa to arrive. Snow gently falls onto the front steps of homes, eventually trampled by families carrying cheap wine and presents and sleeping bags, ready to spend the whole night with their family. They’d talk about things they’ve seen throughout the past year, whether it’s good or bad. The children will scurry by, playing some kind of game like cops and robbers or hide and go seek. They’ll eventually pass the time by doing that, hear their bedtime stories, and eagerly go to bed. While the children sleep in their comfy beds, a soft snow will begin to fall, dusting the roofs right before Santa gets to work. The adults will continue to talk late into the night, drinking coffee, finishing off their desserts.

            This is what usually happens on Christmas eve.   But there are other stories to be heard.

            Apple sat in her room, watching the snowflakes dance to the ground. She’d like to pretend that they were little people dressed in snowflake costumes, floating softly to the ground from the sky. She hoped she’d be able to be a snowflake someday.

            She wasn’t with her family. In fact, she wasn’t with anyone. The lights were off in her bedroom, and the only family she had was downstairs. Except for her little brother, Moses, who was tucked away in his room. Downstairs were her parents. Downstairs, Apple felt, was the entire world.

            Her parents were having another one of their cocktail parties. Well, they were her mom’s parties. They did this every Christmas Eve since she could remember. She’d be tucked away in her room to wait for Santa to come, while hundreds of her parents friends would come and drink and talk and listen to music almost all night. The floor would vibrate as jazz music would bounce through all the walls of their house, with the loud murmur of hundreds of different conversations going on underneath her tiny feet. Her platinum blonde hair was hanging on her shoulders, overtop her Hannah Montana pajamas. She sat their on her windowsill, thinking. Was this what everyone felt on Christmas Eve? Lonely?

            As the snow got heavier, she hopped off her windowsill and began packing her little pink suitcase. The song changed downstairs and for a few seconds, the talking was incredibly loud. She could smell the alcohol from where she was, hear glasses clinking, and heels clicking along the wood floors. People would yell “Merry Christmas!” every once and a while, and it would just remind her even more that she was alone.

            Suddenly, as Apple had finished packing, she heard the sound of footsteps. She pulled her suitcase off then under her bed as quickly as she could, and jumped under the covers, holding her teddy bear BB so tight, she thought she’d strangle him.

            The footsteps made their way down the hall, then stopped in front of the door to her room. The door opened slowly, and when Apple opened her eyes, she saw her father Chris standing at the foot of her bed. “Hi daddy.” she says, trying to act tired.

            Chris knelt down and put her tiny hands in his. “Hey.” He whispered. “Did I wake you?”

            Apple shook her head and giggled at what her father was wearing. He was dressed in his typical Christmas Eve outfit, which was unlike anything he wore the other 364 days of the year. It was a suit. Her father never wore a suit. And on top of it all his cinnamon colored hair was slicked into a 50’s style hairdo. To Apple, he looked like it was Halloween time, and he was wearing some sort of funny costume. He hated what he was wearing, and Apple could tell. “You look handsome, daddy.” She said, and laughed hysterically.

            Chris smiled and tickled his daughter’s tummy. “Go back to sleep. Santa will be here soon.”

            Right before Chris left the room, Apple called him back. “Can I ask you a question, daddy?”

            Chris pulled up one of Apple’s bright pink chairs and took a seat. “Sure, love.” He yawned, exhausted from the long night.

            “How come aunt Piera never comes over anymore?”

            It worried Apple that she never got to see her favorite aunt anymore. Ever since that day Piera left the house early in the morning, she hasn’t seen her. That was months ago now, and she felt as if aunt Piera didn’t like her anymore. Every night, she thought about her. What did she do? She hasn’t heard her name except for when her mother was yelling at her dad. She just wanted things to be the way they were before that day everything changed between her and her daddy.

            It was early September, and Apple had a lot of homework to do for school. She was sitting in her room with aunt Piera, coloring in a picture of a British soldier. “What color should we make his jacket?” she asks her aunt, smiling and having a wonderful time.

            Piera grinned at her from across the table. “Hm.” She said, and pushed her dark brown hair away from her shoulders. “How about hot pink?”

            Apple laughed hysterically. “They didn’t wear hot pink jackets!” But she grabbed the hot pick crayon and began to color the tail of his coat.

            Piera giggled, watching Apple as she colored in the paper. She felt as if Apple was her daughter. Well, she was more of a mother to her than Apple’s actual mother. She took care of her every night until Chris got home from the studio, then she and Chris would spend the rest of the night writing songs. It was the way things’ve been since Apple was a baby, and Piera couldn’t imagine life any better.

            Piera looked down at her left finger and slipped off her engagement ring. For some reason, whenever Chris saw it he got really weird with her. And she actually felt like she was in a better mood when she wasn’t wearing it. She and her fiancé had been engaged for the past year and things weren’t getting any better between the two. She slipped the ring into her pocket and sighed loudly.

            The front door opened and closed, and Apple, Moses and Piera could hear Chris’s whistling echo up the stairwell. “Daddy’s home!” Moses said, and began to sprint towards the hall. Apple followed her brother, and Piera began to clean up the mess the two left. “Up here, Chris!” Piera yelled.

            It was too late though, Chris was now on the floor in fits of laughter, since his two children had just tackled him like linebackers.

            Piera came down the stairs and giggled. “Okay, daddy’s dead, now let’s go get our pajamas on.”

            Apple and Moses scurried up the steps and Chris began to catch his breath. He picked up the papers he had in his hand when he walked in the door, which were now scattered on the tile. “How were they?”

            “Angels,” Piera said immediately and pulled Chris off the floor. “they’re always angels.”

            He looked upstairs and saw them run past the stairs, Moses with his underwear on his head. “Here we go, pajama time.” He said, and began to trudge up the stairs.

            “I’ll see you in the studio in… an hour?” Piera smiled, and walked towards the kitchen.

            Around forty five minutes later, Chris collapsed onto the couch in his living room. “Why is it always such a surprise that they have to wear pajamas?”

            Piera giggled, now dressed in her sweatpants that she kept at Chris’s place for long nights. She lifted his heavy feet and sat down next to him, then replaced his feet on top of her lap. “They’re children.”

            “ Strong children.” He said.

            “How’d it go today?” Piera asked. “Make any progress?”

            She than threw Chris’s old sneakers off his feet and began to massage his muscles. He closed is eyes, the pain in his feet now being relieved. “Some.” He said. “But it still feels like we’re in a bit of a road block.”

            “You’ve been writing for the past five months straight.” She said. “Maybe it’s time for a little break.”

            He almost fell asleep while she was talking, so she slapped him back into consciousness. “How about you?” Chris said. “I feel horrible that I haven’t been able to help you write anything.”

            The sound of Apple and Moses’s pattering feet across the ceiling sounded like troops of soldiers, marching to battle. They didn’t realize that they were making an incredible amount of noise when they snuck out of their beds. Chris rolled his eyes, knowing he’d have to go back up their in a matter of minutes.

            “I just put an album out.” Piera said, now squeezing Chris’s stiff toes. “Besides, I have a wedding to plan.”

            Chris got silent, and Piera could feel him get tense again.

            Meanwhile, Apple sat at the top of the stairs, water gun in hand. She knelt against the railing- giggling- excited for the attack her and her brother were planning on their two naïve victims waiting downstairs. She watched aunt Piera, sitting on the couch with her daddy’s stinky feet in her hands. They were talking, but daddy didn’t look to happy about the conversation. Moses, making loud noise in his bedroom, was now looking for his water gun or something to throw at the two of them.

            She kept watching, waiting for the right moment to attack. Her dad now sat up on the couch, facing the opposite way. Apple could now only see Piera’s face, and she was grinning. Apple thought the gig was up, and planned on attacking in a matter of seconds. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, they were speaking so softly.

            Piera’s face suddenly changed. She was staring at Chris with her brow furrowed, Chris’s hands now in hers. Piera pushed her way off the couch quickly, almost making Chris do a back flip. She kept saying something about how she didn’t understand, and then kept talking about waiting two years. Two years for what? Apple had absolutely no idea what to do.

            Moses sprinted down the hall with his hands full of stuffed animals and balls and other toys to throw at the two. He looked satisfied with himself, and dropped the pile at the top of the stairs. “Ssh!” Apple said to her brother, and turned back to the scene happening downstairs.

            Her father was now kissing her aunt Piera. Apple didn’t know whether to break out into laughter or burst into tears. Piera’s arms were out at her side, and then on Chris’s chest as she quickly pushed him away from her. “Let’s go back to bed.” Apple whispered quickly to her brother, knowing something was seriously wrong with what she’d just seen.

            “Wha? No!” Moses yelled loudly, angry at the turn of events.

            Apple picked her brother up as high as she could, put her hand over his mouth as he tried to scream, and made a run for his room. She threw him in his bed. “I’ll explain tomorrow, but go to sleep!” She whispered, and made for her room.

            She was so afraid and confused and excited at the same time that she couldn’t hear or see anything else except the door to her room. She pushed the door open and practically flew into her bed, burrowing under the covers. It was silent, very silent. All she could hear was the sound of Moses grunting in confusion.

            She then heard a boom. Then she heard footsteps, a whole lot of them, as they got louder. Then there was a loud crashing sound, followed by what sounded like her father cursing, then saying Apple’s name. Apple held onto her teddy bear for dear life, afraid of getting in trouble for all the toys she and Moses left in the hall. There was another boom sound, but closer, she then heard the sound of her father’s bedroom door open and slam shut, followed by silence that continued for the rest of the night. Apple thought about seeing her father kissing Piera, and couldn’t fight the feeling of happiness.

            The next morning, Apple awoke to the sound of her father’s bedroom door slamming shut. She froze, listening to the footsteps travel down the stairs. The bedroom door opened again, and she decided to get up and try to figure out what was happening.

            The footsteps from the second person followed the first right down the stairs. Apple opened the door to her room and ran to the top of the stairwell as quietly as she could. She saw Piera at the bottom of the stairs, her father a few stairs up. She was buttoning the same shirt she wore the night before, while her father was just dressed in black sweat pants. Apple was confused at where his father’s shirt went. “Please.” Her father begged. “Just stay for a few minutes and lets talk about this.”

            Piera looked straight at Apple, and Apple didn’t know whether to stay or run. Chris followed Piera’s line of sight and looked at his daughter at the top of the stairs. Piera looked away, wiping something off her face as Chris walked towards his daughter. “Hey, kiddo.” He said. His eyes looked tired and red. Apple pouted at him, and looked back down at Piera.

“Where’s aunt Piera going?” she said, and pushed past her father, towards Piera.

            Piera was still wiping something off her face when Apple reached her at the bottom of the stairs. “Where are you going?” She said again.

            Chris ran his fingers through his hair, his chest feeling heavy from all the stress. He watched Piera as she knelt down so she was eye level with Apple. “I’m just going away for a while, Apple banana. I’m sorry.”

            “Why?” Apple tried to hide the fact that she was about to cry. “Do you not like us anymore?”

            Piera’s head sunk, and Apple could hear Chris say something from the top of the stairs. When Piera looked back up at Apple, her eyes were much more wet and red like her father’s were. “No honey, of course not. I love you so much.” She said, and pulled Apple in for a tight hug. Apple wrapped her arms around Piera’s neck, breathing in her favorite perfume of Piera’s, something that smelled like strawberries.

            And with that, Piera stood back up. She looked back up at Chris who was shaking his head at her with pleading eyes. She turned, softly sniffling and sobbing, and made her way out the door as fast as she could. Apple and her father never spoke a word of that morning since.

CHAPTER 2

            The question hit Chris like a ton of bricks. He knew that this question was coming, but wasn’t expecting it while all of his wife’s friends were downstairs and he was dressed in some monkey costume. He tried to straighten his sagging posture, but at the same time hide the fact that he was on the verge of tears. He looked straight into his daughter’s blue eyes, trying to breathe. His muscles ached at the thought of what happened that night. The last time Apple ever saw the woman he really loved.

            “Apple,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry that you had to see all that. I can’t really explain all the adult things that happened that night to you. You wouldn’t understand. I promise you though, when you’re older, I’ll tell you everything.”

            Apple nodded, unsure why she wouldn’t understand. She has ears; she can hear everything he’s saying! The only way she wouldn’t understand was if he spoke it in another language. “I just miss aunt Piera, that’s all.”

            Another blow to Chris’s chest. He sunk his head, just the way Piera did on that fateful day, watching his tears drip to the floor in his daughter’s dark room. “I do too.” He whispered.

            Chris pulled the covers over his daughter’s tiny body, kissed her on the forehead, and told her to get some sleep. Apple watched him as he pulled his body towards the door, out of her room, back to the party. The second he closed the door, she jumped out of her bed and began packing again. She opened drawers, pulled them out of their place and dumped the contents into her suitcase. When finished, she pulled on her winter coat and threw her suitcase out the window, where it landed with a “thump” on the now dusty white ground. She then backs out of her window, and grabs onto the vines that are growing on the corner of her house. She uses them as a ladder, slowly making her way down the side of the house, hearing laughter on the inside as she’s near death on the outside. She shivers as a cold wind comes, watching her tiny white hands turn to pink then purple.

            When she finally reaches the ground, apple grabs her suitcase and makes a run for it. She turns left, then right, then left again in the streets of London, passing other Christmas parties on her way. She trudged on, through the snow, through the people, certain of her destination.

            When Apple turned onto

Hyde Street

, she smiled. Her aunt Piera’s car was in the driveway, and the lights were on in the living room. She still lived there, and Apple had made it.

            Apple ran up to the front door and knocked on the wood as hard as she could, as she shivered in the freezing cold. There was the sound of footsteps on the inside, talking, and then the door opened. Apple looked up to see a familiar face staring down at her. It wasn’t the face she was hoping to see, though. “Hello uncle Drew,” she shook. “is aunt Piera home?”

            “Apple, get in here, quick.” He said, and pushed her inside while taking her suitcase. “What are you doing here?”

            “I missed my aunt.” She said, feeling relieved when she realized how warm it was in their house.

            “Apple!” Piera’s voice yelled from behind her tiny, cold body.

            Apple spun around to see Piera staring at her in shock, a look Apple was getting used to. Piera’s hair was much shorter than the last time she’d seen her. She was dressed in a royal blue sweater, jeans, and slippers. But there was one big change to her weight.

            “Aunt Piera!” Apple screamed, and hugged her as tightly as she could around Piera’s big stomach. “Your belly got big!”

            Piera glared at Drew, who giggled at Apple’s last words. She looked Apple straight in the eyes. “What are you doing here?”

            “I missed you!” She said, frustrated that people kept asking her that. “Do you not want to see me anymore? Didn’t you miss me?”

            She smiled and pulled Apple in for a hug again, more so to warm her up than to embrace her. “Of course I did. Does your em, dad know you’re here?”

Apple shook her head. “Daddy and mommy didn’t want me seeing you so I went by myself.”

            Drew disappeared down the hall for a few seconds, then came back with a warm fleece blanket. Piera thanked him with a smile, took it from his hands and wrapped it around Apple’s shoulders. She had no idea how to approach telling what’d just come through the door that she hated her father.

            Chris felt miserable, as he always did at those stupid parties. At least in other years he had Piera to make fun of all the silly, rich actors that invaded his house for the night with. They’d sit at the bar, making up incredibly dumb stories for each person that walked by.

            The wine almost came gushing out of Piera’s nose. “Okay,” she said, and put her wine down on the counter. “what about these two? Daughter or mistress?”

            Chris giggled in excitement and looked over to see who Piera was talking about. Sitting not five feet from them was an old man, eighty or ninety years old with a woman who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years of age, dressed in a dress that was barely there. “I hope it’s his daughter.” Chris said, and laughed drunkenly.

            “I hope it’s his mistress.” Piera said, and when Chris looked back at them, the young woman was tonguing the old man. Piera and Chris erupted into fits of laughter.

Chris was so drunk that he could barely hang on when he lost his footing, and went crashing to the ground. Piera’s eyes were filled with tears from the strong alcohol and the fact that she couldn’t stop laughing. “Tell me you saw that.” Piera said to the snobby actors surrounding them. “Please tell me you saw that. You are SO drunk!”

Chris could still remember the smell of her perfume as she bent over to pull him off the floor. That’s what she always did, pulled him up when he was down. Now he was sitting at that same counter where he almost fell on Helen Mirren last year, wanting to dive into his beer and never come out. He took another swing of the alcohol and thought about why Apple had never asked him why Piera left until now.

            “So, you’re having a baby?” Apple asked Rachel as she handed her a sweet smelling cup of hot chocolate.

            Piera smiled brightly. “I’m due in a month.” She sat down next to Apple on the couch, holding her stomach. “You want to tell me why you came here?”

            Apple frowned, hoping she wouldn’t ask her that, and they could just go on with talking. “I missed you. Ever since that day you left, daddy hasn’t told me why you don’t came play with us anymore.”

            Piera now wished she hadn’t asked. Part of her felt like she should’ve just sent Apple home right away, without even giving her a glance of sympathy. But… the girl’s six years old. And Apple was like Piera’s daughter. She’d been with Apple her whole life; more than Apple’s biological mother. “I’m sorry, Apple.” Piera says, staring at her hot chocolate. “I’m sorry I left you like that. You must hate me.”

            Apple threw her head back in laughter. I could never hate you, aunt Piera! You’re my best friend in the whole world!”

            She knew that apple was trying to make her feel better, but those words hurt more than anything. Piera wished she could explain everything to Apple and she’d just immediately understand. Suddenly, before the two could say anymore, t he phone rang. The two of them jumped, and before Piera could pull herself up, she heard Drew’s voice in the kitchen. “Hello? Shit.”

            And with that, she knew exactly who it was.