Writing Dabble

free-writeI know that I have been mainly posting from Logan’s POV from my manuscript Torn for these February Writing Dabbles. I am sorry. Zayne’s POV isn’t very strong which is why I have been rewriting Torn in the first place. Zayne comes across weak, which I hate. I dunno how it happened. Zayne is the main character and Logan the love interest. Well hate interest until half way through.

Anyway here it is.

The officer opened his cell. “You’re being released as we have nothing to hold you with.”

“Fine.” Logan picked up his black leather jacket of the end of his bed and strolled out.

“This way.”

Logan followed the officer through the narrow concrete hallway to the reception. The gate buzzed and swang open. He stepped through to find his father’s lawyer, filling out paper work at the front desk.

The clerk behind the desk pushed a brown envelope towards him. “Your possessions.”

“Thank you.” He ripped open the top and pulled out his keys and wallet, slipping them into his jeans pocket.

 “Come on Logan,” his dad lawyer said.

He followed Mr Harold through the station, and out the double sliding doors. Camera’s flashed. Click. Click. Click. Shit. The media. Yeah his father was a rock star, but they never really cared about him. Why the sudden change? Why now?

A report darted in front of him, and shouted “Is it true you held a party on the beach and supplied minors with alcohol, Logan?”

“What no,” he yelled into the flashes.

 “Logan, why don’t you explain your view of what happened last night?”

 “Why were you in custody, Logan?” another asked.

Flash. Flash. He blinked. “Ahh I-” more reporters swarmed around him, so close they brushed against him.

“What are you being charged with?”

 “What happens next Logan?”

“No comment.” Mr Harold grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the black limo idling at the side of the road. The camera’s kept flashing. White blobs and little stars filled his vision. The whole time all he could think about was the fact his father was going to be pissed. He had broken the number one rule – never bring bad press to this family.

Once again he was in the dog box. There was no doubt about that.

Mr Harold yanked open the limo door and shoved him inside. “You should know better than to say anything by now Logan.”

Before he had a chance to reply, Mr Harold slammed the door closed. He sat there stunned for a few minutes, breathing heavily. He lifted his head and looked right into his father’s eyes.

Oh shit.

His father sat on the far seat, his arms crossed and a flat look in his face. His mouth pinched. “And, what’s your excuse this time?”

He itched to yank open the door and run. His father wouldn’t be able to do anything because the moment he stepped out of the car, the paparazzi would be onto him. But he didn’t. He pushed his hands down onto his legs, his nails digging in.

 “I…” he gulped.

“Well explain yourself,” his father said, his hand tapping on the arm rest.

He shrugged. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself. You embarrassed me. Made a public spectacle of yourself and all you can say is I’m sorry, sir?”

There was no point in arguing with his father. He wouldn’t believe him. Never had in the past, so why would he now.

“Well.”

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Don’t lie to me. We both know you can’t help yourself but this time you have royally screwed up.”

Doesn’t he know that, in more ways than one.

Let me know what you think, by posting a comment below.

Angel

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