Hello! I don't normally write Suite Life fics, but I've been trying. I have a four chapters long one that I'm probably never going to finish about Max and the Wizard of Oz, and a one-shot about Arwin. I totally love the Suite Life, so I've been trying to find inspiration everywhere!
I was listening to my MP3 player to this song that I was obsessed with last summer, and I was like "Hey, that kinda sounds like London!" The song is "The Summer Sends Its Love" by Sherwood, and this song is used in this story! I didn't write that song, obviously, so this is like my disclaimer.
Although the song is kind of about two people who are like in love, I changed it a bit, so don't take it the wrong way O.O This is the first time I've ever tried to write about London in London's point of view, so I hope it turned out okay!
Happy summer!
The Summer Sends Its Love To You, The Same as Every Year
The summer sends its love to you, the same as every year…
Across my floor, I leave a shadow 25 feet long
The farther down, the less specific I become…
"Hello?"
I stood up in shock at the voice on the other end of the receiver. I had tried so many times to get a hold of him, and now I finally had. It was so late at night that I couldn't tell what time it was, but my suite door was open and the light from the hallway made my faint shadow stretch across the entire floor. I was almost too excited to speak.
"Hello?" the voice repeated, sounding irritated.
"Hi Daddy!" I breathed, and sat down again.
"London, is that you?"
"Yep!"
There was a sigh from the other end. "What is it this time? I'm very busy, London, and I can't have your calls wasting my time like this."
A surge of guilt and disappointment went through me. "I just called to talk. To say I love you."
"Okay, I love you too. Is that all?"
He sounded so angry. It didn't sound like he meant it.
And so with you, the country miles overcast our love
Oh mountain range, your hills are hard to overcome…
"So… how's business going?" I asked, just to have something to talk about. I didn't care about his business… I just wanted to hear him talk to me, to say anything at all.
Why did it feel like I was about to cry?
When I was little, I didn't really mind not having dad around. I had mom. Whenever I called Daddy on the phone, he seemed so happy.
But maybe he was just pretending.
Daddy was good at pretending.
But maybe he was sick of it now.
"Daddy… when are you coming home?" I asked, not realizing I was butting into his explanation of business, but not really caring.
"I don't know, London."
The summer sends its love to you, the same as every year
But this year I will send mine too, and wish that you were here…
"Daddy, it's summer. Don't you get a break?"
I bit my lip to hold back the tears.
"Do you like living at the Tipton?"
I nodded, but then realized he couldn't hear me. I said yes.
"Do you like all of the nice things you have?"
I answered yes again.
"Then there is no time for breaks, London."
I sighed. "Not even for a little bit? I haven't seen you since Christmas."
"I'm sorry, but I don't have time. I'm very busy right now, so maybe I'll call you later."
Maybe. Maybe I'll call you later.
Never a straight answer, dad.
The central coast is not the same now, the same without you here
And late night calls are only daylight souvenirs…
"Okay," I gave up. "I'll talk to you later."
Without a goodbye, Daddy hung up.
I tossed my cell phone onto the carpeted rug and fell back onto the couch.
"Now what?" I asked myself.
Maybe I was being selfish. I had everything in the world, but the only thing I really wanted was the only family I had left to love me.
Was that so wrong?
I wondered if my dad even thought about me when he was out on his trips, wherever he was. I was his only biological daughter. Didn't that mean anything to him? Or was I just another thing to be forgotten… thrown away… given up… by the man who has everything?
I almost convinced myself I didn't care when he was coming home. Even if it was tomorrow. Even if it was in an eternity.
Think of me tonight when everyone leaves and you're alone
Think of me tonight, I'm counting the days 'til you come home…
For a second, I considered calling him back. I considered begging him to talk to me.
But what would've been the point? And it would've just made him angrier.
Instead, I stood up and walked downstairs with my pajamas on and teddy bear in hand, and sat down on the couch down there, patting the fur on my teddy bear's head.
"What's wrong, London?" Mr. Moseby walked over to me. "If you're going to sleep, I would appreciate if you didn't do so in my lobby."
"Fine…" I grunted as I stood up. "Nobody wants me anywhere I go anyway."
"Now hold on one moment," Mr. Moseby sat me back down again. I was about to leave. "London, you never act like this. Summer blues got you down?"
Sure. Summer blues, if that's what he wanted to call it. Or 'my father doesn't love me anymore.'
The summer sends its love to you, the same as every year
But this year I will send mine too, and wish that you were here…
"No… well… it's just that… I talked to my father."
"Yes, and what did he say?"
"Nothing," I pouted, staring at Teddy. "He said I should stop calling because it wastes his time."
"Oh, London, I'm sure he didn't mean that…"
"Yes he did, Mr. Moseby! And he doesn't love me! He doesn't need me and I'm sure he never did!"
"So you want to feel needed?"
I nodded, wiping a tear away.
"But we do need you, London! The Tipton needs you! The world needs you! What would we do without you 'trendy teen fashions' or whatever you kids call it?"
I smiled for the first time that night. "Thanks, Mr. Moseby, but I just really miss my dad."
The summer sends it's love to you, the same as every year
But this year I will send mine too, and wish that you were here…
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