"This is the last straw, Sylvina! I mean it!"
Elliot Martescu glared at his daughter, no hint of his usual geniality in his deep blue eyes. "This reckless behaviour has to stop, and you have to learn to stop it! You're barely more than a child - what exactly did you think you were playing at?"
The hapless Sylvina raised her gaze to his, but upon seeing his expression thought better of it, meekly lowering her lashes and absently twisting her hands together.
There was a moment of awkward silence, which appeared to placate Elliot none at all.
"Well? Sylvina, I'm waiting."
It wasn't often that either of her parents used her full name to address her, but then it had been a long time since she had seen her father this angry. When she thought it over, she supposed - however grudgingly - that she understood the reason for his displeasure. After all, he was just a businessman, an executive knee deep in facts and figures. What did he know about the dreams of a young musician?
Her mother she had always put more faith in. Her mother understood the desire insideof her to play and sing and to make it as a star, for she had once been there herself. But this time...she frowned slightly. This time she had pushed even her mother's patience.
And as for her aunt...
She had barely spoken to her mother since she had returned home from her latest escapade the previous night. Frantic out of her mind for the safety of her impulsive and socially naive renegade, Mary Martescu had all but collapsed when the news had come in that Sylvina was safe. She was still confined to her room, and Elliot had not let her see her daughter, except for the briefest of seconds to confirm that she really was okay. He had treated her with icy disdain for most of the day, and even her devoted twin sister Anna, usually compliant to Sylvina's will had shied away, shocked by what her sister had done.

Mary had been in England when Sylvina had made her reckless choice, visiting her niece through her brother’s marriage, in order to encourage the girl’s own musical ambitions. Sylvina had been jealous, and, in a bid to gain attention for herself, she had made her bid for independence.

Needless to say it had all gone horribly wrong.
It had taken her Aunt Roxy to deal the final, morale-busting blow. Never one to use either tact or finesse, Roxy had been blunt and to the point, and what she'd had to say had cut deep into Sylvina's bruised pride. She had been treated like a silly child when all she had been trying to do was take a step for herself in the adult world.
It had seemed such a good idea at the time. Impulsive and headstrong, she had barely bothered to stop and think it over before she was packing her immediate belongings and sneaking out with her savings, intending to make it to Los Angeles. She knew, for her mother had often told her that major recording companies of big repute operated there, and it had always been her intention to get herself signed to one of these big labels. Of her ability she had no doubt...but of the world and the hard path to stardom she knew nothing. Fame had, it seemed, fallen into the hands of her mother and aunt with amazing ease...she saw no reason why she could not attain it just as easily.
But then Sylvina was not prone to thinking anything through in any depth.
She was, she reasoned, fond of her mother and her father. She had always been very close to her parents and had grown up in a secure and loving family environment. Her Aunt Roxy was, of course, not really her aunt at all, but she and the girl's mother had worked so closely together their relationship these days was almost that of sisters. Whilst Mary had a tendency to be soft on her girls, quick to forgive and forget in the same way she had always done with those around her, Roxy had no such qualms. Straight-talking and streetwise, she always spoke exactly as she thought, whether good or bad, and Sylvina, who was an admirer of her aunt's independant air, had been badly hurt by the disdainful remark about her 'childish games'. Roxy had grown up rough and knew all about what it was like outside of the warm, gentle family atmosphere Sylvina had been quick to take for granted. Roxy had been angry - no, more than angry, she had been furious when Mary had phoned her and tearfully explained that Sylvina had run away. So angry, in fact, that she had insisted on leaving her home in Philadelphia in order to go and locate the sinner personally. And it had not been a pleasant flight home. Privately Sylvina hoped that whatever her fate, it didn't involve another encounter with her sharp-tongued aunt.
"I was just....just trying to take the initiative." She said finally, her tone far more timid than she would have liked it to be. "I want to be a star, Dad, you know that! I was just...well...doing it."
"What you were doing, young lady, was thinking only of yourself and driving all of us crazy with worry. Your mother hasn't been well since you left...in case it has escaped your notice she's very sensitive and you and your sister mean everything to her, particularly since..." He paused meaningfully, but Sylvina was quick enough to take the hint. Three years after the birth of the twins Mary had had a son, but he had been stillborn, and Sylvina and Anna had come to be even more important in their mother's life from then on. The Martescus had never tried again for a child - the pain of losing one had been enough to bear.
She sighed.
"I know." She admitted. "I...I guess I didn't think. I left a note...I figured Mom would understand. After all, she was a star.!"
"Your mother was and is a professional." Elliot said coldly. "You never think about anything, do you?" He pointed to the door. "Go to your room. I'm sick of the sight of you."
Sylvina opened her mouth to retort but a glare from her father silenced it, and disconsolately she trudged out of the room and up the stairs.
At the door of her mother's bedroom she paused. The door was ajar, and, glancing behind her to ensure her father was not following, she knocked on it lightly.
"Come in?" The voice was familiar, if tired, and encouraged Sylvina swung the door open, slipping inside and closing it behind her.
Her mother was sitting by the window reading, her dressing gown tied around her waist and the shadows under her eyes told of the sleepless nights she had undergone whilst Sylvina had been absent. Mary had been in England when the news had first come through, and initially numb, her only thought had been to return to America to search for her eldest child. For the first time the errant girl realised that it was, after all a good thing that her Aunt Aja had been in contact with Mary when the phone call had been made, and had immediately offered to go with her sister in law and assist in the hunt. Memories brought her back to Los Angeles and had had a hunch to look for her naughty niece in the city itself. She had happened to pay a visit to Haven House, a centre for runaways, and had recognise her immediately she had arrived there. Sylvina, by this time, had been tired, afraid and hungry. Not for worlds would she admit how glad she had been to be caught, but she had always hated and resisted discipline, and especially being told she had been silly and childish.
At the sight of her daughter Mary raised a faint smile, setting her book aside.
"Hello, Sylvie." she said quietly. "Did you want something?"
Sylvina hesitated. Then, tears in her blue eyes she threw herself on her mother.
"I'm sorry." She gulped. "I didn't mean to make you sick."
Mary hugged her daughter tightly.
"I know you didn't." she said softly. "But you're old enough now to think things through. I know how bad you want to be a star, but it's not all glitter and glamour, you know. It's a lot of hard work." She sighed. "Your father thinks we've lost control of you." She observed sadly. "That we've let you down and been too soft on you. I...I don't know. I do feel that we've let you down, though, if you're unhappy enough you want to run away."
"Unhappy?" Sylvina stared. "No, that wasn't...you don't understand! It wasn't that I was unhappy, I just..."
"You want to be a star, and you thought you could make it happen." Mary put in gently. "Don't you know what you can get pulled into, Sylvie? I was so frightened...I didn't think you'd come back to me."
Her voice shook slightly at this and Sylvina knew that her mother was remembering the long-dead brother. She had no recollection of him herself, but she did recall a time when her mother had been sad and tearful, and more than anything she hated seeing her mother cry.
"I'll never do it again, I promise." She said. "Really, Mom, I mean it! I...I don't like it out there on my own."
"It's not a pleasant place to be when you're alone and inexperienced." Mary told her wisely. "Your aunt Roxy can tell you more about that than I can."
"I don't want to talk to her...she's very angry, Mom."
"With good reason." Mary chided. "Sylvie, your aunt was a runaway, you know that...and you also know what she went through to make it into the Misfits. Do you really want your fame that way? I'm all for you and Anna both pursuing your music, you know that...all I ask is you be patient and sensible about it, that's all. It'll come. And you girls graduate in a week or two...do you want to throw that away? Your report cards before this craziness have been so much better!"
"I guess." Sylvina sighed, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. "Are you still mad at me?"
"I'm too relieved to have you back to be mad."
"Dad's mad."
"Yes. Yes, he is." Mary sighed. "I'm afraid this time his mind is made up on something we're not going to like, Sylvie. He hasn't discussed it with me yet, since I've not been so well, but he will, I've no doubt. Whatever it is...this time I don't think he's so willing to forgive as I am. I just want you safe."
"What do you think he's gonna do?" Sylvina looked apprehensive.
"I wish I knew." Mary admitted. "All he said to me was that whatever happened, he wasn't going to let you put me through something like this again. I...really didn't react to it so well, all told. Perhaps it's my fault for overreacting."
"No, it's my fault." Sylvina said slowly, loving her mother all the more for her unselfish and forgiving nature. "I'm truly sorry, Mom. I'm gonna make you proud of me now, I promise I will."
"I'm always proud of you." Mary smiled at her. "Even when you're being crazy. I'm your mother...you mean everything to me."
"Thank you for being so great." Sylvina whispered. "I...I better go, before Dad finds me in here. He sent me to my room."
"Then I advise you go. You don't want to upset him any more." Mary advised. "I'm glad we had this talk, though. I wanted to talk to you properly last night but I was so tired and things were so crazy."
Sylvina nodded.
"I'm glad we talked too." she agreed. "Bye, Mom. Thanks."
With that, she slid out of the bedroom, tiptoeing down the corridor to the bedroom which had been hers ever since she and Anna had decided to define their individual identities at the age of eight. Identical in appearance, the girls could not be more different in character, though both shared a love of music. Anna had inherited her mother's creative flair for writing and composing and was a diligent pianist with a good working knowledge of most musical conventions. Shy and retiring, she had no wish to take her place on stage, much preferring to stay behind closed doors. Sylvina, on the other hand, was less patient in the composing department, but had all of the performing flair. She too played piano and had soon begged her mother to teach her how to handle a synthesiser, for since she had been a kid of eight and had sang into her hairbrush in front of her mirror she had determined that she was going to be a rock star, like her mother and her aunt. She had the voice too, a stronger and more vibrant voice than Anna's, but as a team they were formidable. Anna wrote the songs and Sylvina sang them. Though Anna shied away from the spotlight, she had masterminded songs that her sister had performed in county and state singing competitions, even one which had taken her across town to the centre of the capital itself. While Anna had Mary's meek and gentle side, Sylvina clearly possessed the impish, mischievous streak that her mother had, the side of her which had often come to the fore when she had been Stormer of the Misfits. These days she was renowned across the musical profession for her songwriting skill, and her work was generally accepted as close to genius on occasion.
Anna was waiting for her when Sylvina reached her room, a reproachful frown on her face.
"You hurt Mom." She said chidingly.
"I know." Sylvina snapped back. "I spoke to her, chill out and let me be, will ya? I'm in enough trouble!"
"I was worried too, you know."
"Yeah, well, if you don't mind I'd rather not talk about it right now. I'm sorry, if that helps." Sylvina flopped down on her bed. "Dad is mad at me, I made Mom cry...you can't seriously think you can make me feel any worse."
"I don't want to make you feel any worse." A look of consternation crossed Anna's features. "Just...please don't do it again, Sylvie!"
"Wasn't gonna." Sylvina shrugged. "Been there. Done that."
"Was it real scary?" Anna sat down on the end of the bed.
"It...wasn't nice." Sylvina admitted. She sighed. "You've no idea how glad I am to be home, Anna, even though I'm in the worst trouble of my life."
"It'll be okay." Anna said reassuringly. "You know it will. It'll blow over - you've learnt."
"Yeah, maybe." Sylvina looked troubled. "Wish I could be so sure. Mom thinks Dad has something up his sleeve and...well, I kinda think so too.
I hope he's not gonna do anything crazy..."