adoration | CL fanfic

prologue

From the uncomfortable warmth of my room, I watched the sky split open to a storm as raindrops began careening in the rivulets down the broken windowpane.

As the knocking on the door began I was already halfway to my chair, the one I would constantly push against the door to prevent unwanted visitors.

"Melody. It's Max." I sighed, fear was an icy cold hand that held me hostage in an iron grip, it was nothing to worry about. Max isn't a threat so the chair quickly was put back into place.

"You scared me Max."

Max is my older brother, well technically he's my half brother but despite that he's the closest thing I have to a family member.

"You know they aren't home yet. Just me." He shrugged, entering my room and sitting on my bed instantly.

"Doesn't make me worry less."

"Mel. I hate going to my mothers and leaving you here you know I do.." Max began.

"You're going home again aren't you?" I asked sitting cross legged on the windowsill allowing the rain to fall for what seemed like a lifetime.

"Tonight. It's my aunts birthday, can't miss it."

"Max you don't understand how hard it is when you aren't here. I don't think I can do it." I sighed, my head in my hands.

Max and I lived with our dad Jos and my mum Helen, my dad was previously married to Maxes mum Sophia but their marriage fell apart when Sophia found out that Jos was cheating on her and one of his side girls was pregnant.

With me.

Max goes home to visit Sophia every two weeks, she lives probably forty five minutes away so he doesn't tend to visit unless necessary, but I stay at the house full time.

It's worse when Max isn't home. Everything is worse.

"WE'RE HOME!" My mother drunkenly shrieked as she slammed the front door open, I could smell the cheap alcohol on her from a mile away.

Max and I made eye contact and he was off to his room instantly, as the door closes behind him I moved the chair up to the door creating a barrier to protect me as I climbed into the wardrobe and sat.

Fear felt like a thousand needles prickling in my skin as my dads bellowing footsteps appeared closer and closer, my chest grew like an expanding balloon with every breathe.

"Max. Your whore of a mother rang me, said your goin to hers for the weekend. I knew you were a fuckin traitor. Should've never spent so much on you." My dad grumbled against my door, when he's drunk he confuses our rooms.

My father has been funding Maxes driving since before I was born, he started with karting when he was 3 and he's been racing ever since. He's good, really good. They reckon Max will be in F1 by 18 and god I hope so.

He knocked on my door again, so loudly I could've sworn his fist went right through the wood.

"Max. You're letting down the family name. Next race is Monday and if you want your sister to eat that night you better fucking win it." He slurred as he walked to the staircase and down.

My parents are both raging alcoholics, my father has been for as long as I can remember and my mum just does it for escape being married to the monster himself for a minute.

After half an hour had passed and I was confident my parents were both downstairs napping as they often did at 3pm on a Sunday I grabbed my  phone and texted max.

Melody 
Did you hear that? I'm pretty sure my door is permanently damaged.

Max
Pretty sure I'm permanently damaged if I don't win this.

Melody
I think we're a bit passed permanently damaged Max.

Max
I'm sorry Mel

Melody
It'll be okay.

Looking back that is probably the biggest lie I've ever told Max, that it'll be okay because if never was. In that household sadness was a prison that I could never escape.

It got even worse once my mother had passed away when I was 13, and once again when Max moved out and I was 15. But I always told him that I would be okay.

Max is three years older than me, so naturally when he was 18 and driving professionally for red bull it was a given that he would move out of our shitty little house.

So it was just me and dad.

Once Max was gone all of the anger, all of the rage he had towards Max and his racing, and my mother and her leaving her money to me was built up and put towards me.

I was the thing that made his life hard.

Or so he claimed.

Or so he thought.