Techno Fan (First edit)

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Okay, so my word was 'Father' but I thought of 'Music.' Probably because my dad has a huge CD collection and introduced me to some awesome bands.
This story is also inspired by the song 'Techno Fan' by 'The Wombats' - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8l-9nuXkDo - most awesome song I've heard in ages!
Anyway, I was going to try and get this posted by review day but my inspiration and motivation kind of left me halfway through writing this and I'm still unsure about the piece. Thoughts would really really be appreciated! Thanks and enjoy the story, if it's not too awful :)

Oh, and I'm just being cautious with the rating.


The wind was blowing fiercely and I gripped my leather jacket closer to my body. I’d only bought it last week, but it had already become my favourite jacket. It reminded me of him. He was the only reason I was standing alone in a mile long queue that stretched around the grubby buildings of East London. Another gust of wind blew my hair into my eyes and I pulled a hand from the pocket of my skinny jeans to sweep it back. My eyes were streaming from the bitterness of the night air, and I was sure that my make-up would be running down my face, but I convinced myself that he wouldn’t care. He was my dad after all; he was supposed to love me whatever.

The crowds moved forward a couple of inches and I hurried to fill the gap worried that, if I hesitated for too long, someone would push in front of me. I’d been waiting for hours. The queue had only stretched back to the deli on South Street then, but now it was all the way back to the cinema and probably far beyond that. Part of me pitied the people who were only just lining up; God knows how long they’d be waiting once I was inside. Excitement flooded my stomach then and the feeling of butterflies made me smile.

Mum had tried with all of her might to keep me from coming here.

“It’ll be just like last time,” she’d said, her familiar blue eyes imploring me to listen to her.

She’d look more tired than usual this morning, but I’d convinced myself it was the fact that she’d been up all last night with Martha, not the fact that she was worrying about me. I felt myself frowning. She didn’t have to worry about me. I was seventeen after all; I wasn’t a baby like Martha. I could look after myself and make my own decisions. That was why I was here, standing in the cold, instead of at home, helping Mum with the housework. Guilt struck me then and I shook my head to rid the thoughts that were filling my brain. I wasn’t being selfish. I hadn’t seen my dad in five years. What was I supposed to do? Miss the opportunity to see him? Not likely.

Mum was just being paranoid. How did she know that it was going to be like last time? My gut wrenched and I screwed my eyes up. No. This time was going to be different.

“Techno Fan shirt, Love?”

I peered up from the dirty pavement to see a guy with a huge beer gut watching me from behind a pair of glasses. He appeared to be waving something at me and I glanced back down to see a bright pink t-shirt swaying in the wind.

“Only a tenner, Love. Best price you’ll get one.”

I declined with a shake of my head and the man moved on, shouting out his offers to the teens standing behind me. My hand moved to the shirt I was wearing beneath my leather jacket. Mine wasn’t so vivid a pink anymore, but you could still see the band’s logo emblazed down the length of the shirt in rich midnight blue. My heart swelled as I thought back to the day I’d received the shirt in the post. It had been sent all the way from New York and my eyes had widened at my dad’s generosity. Mum hadn’t been so pleased to see the package but I’d told her it was okay. If he’d thought to send the t-shirt, then it meant he loved me, right? Mum hadn’t been so sure. She reckoned he’d only sent it so I’d wear it around my friends, thinking maybe it would sell a CD or two.

“It’s all about the money to him,” she’d said, a scowl on her lined face.

She’d always looked young for her age, but recently she’d begun to age quickly. I blamed the smoking, but she’d blamed the stress of being a single parent. A violent gust of wind threatened to force me back a step, but I stood strong and set my eyes on the barely visible building in the distance. Dad’s in there, I reminded myself.

I was scared that Mum had given up hope of ever having a happy family. But that was part of the reason why I was here today; I was going to fix things like I always did. Without Dad around, I had almost become the second parent, especially since Martha had arrived and her dad had dumped her too. I shook my head. Dad didn’t dump me, I said to myself. He just got busy with the band. I’d been hanging onto that thought for most of my life, but now I wasn’t going to have to get by without him anymore; I was going to see Dad and then convince him to give up the band and come and live with us again. He’d done it before, so what was to say that he wouldn’t accept my offer this time?

I let the sound of excited chatter fill my head for the next half an hour. I was too nervous to let myself listen to my thoughts. I’d already been over what I was going to say a million times since I’d seen the advert for the gig in the local paper. They’d done a whole write up on a world famous band coming back to their roots. The headline flashed in my mind; ‘Techno Fan back to the city that bore them at last.’ It had been a little naff, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that had enveloped me when I’d seen it.

“Dad’s coming back to town,” I’d announced at breakfast a couple of months ago, anticipation leaking into my voice. “I think I’m going to go and see him.”

Mum had given me a tight lipped smile as she’d handed me the cereal box. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she’d warned me.

“I’m going,” I’d said, getting a little defensive.

She’d given up then. I’d seen it in the way she’d slumped into her chair; her shoulders sagging and her brow creasing. But I hadn’t let it stop me. I was here today for both of our sakes. I wanted Mum to have her husband back and I needed my dad.

A sudden bout of screaming started and I snapped my head up to see the crowds starting to inch forward. The butterflies swarmed my stomach and I gripped my ticket through the material of my jeans. This is it. There was no going back now. I had to stay strong, force my way back stage to see him. Security would probably try to stop me, thinking I was some crazed fan, but then everything would be okay once I’d explained who I was. They’d get Dad and then he’d see me and we’d have a chat and everything would be great. He’d play the gig to hundreds of adoring fans and then he’d come back home with me. Mum would see him and then they’d fall in love all over again. Dad would accept Martha as his and then we’d finally be a happy family. I knew that I probably sounded crazy, mental, off my rocker, but I didn’t care. Nothing meant more to me than fixing things for Mum and being so close to doing it, but having to wait around, was almost unbearable.

The queue was moving fast now and in no time at all I could read the sign above the building I’d been waiting to get inside. A feeling of pride and admiration pulsed through me as I read the name of the band and then, underneath, next to the word ’lead guitarist’ my dad’s name. ‘Steve Miller.’ My heart leapt in my chest and the excitement I’d been feeling for the past week grew.

“Ticket, please?”

I gave the man behind the counter my biggest smile as I finally set foot in the concert hall. I’d only been here once before, to see a band a couple of years ago, but now it seemed even grander than back then. The carpet was a luxurious red and the accents of gold around the huge lobby made me feel like royalty as I took my ticket stub back and made my way towards the giant auditorium. Others pushed and jostled around me as I hurried towards the huge wooden doors. I knew that the auditorium was only just past them and the thought made nerves bubble to the surface. You can do this, Elise. I nodded to confirm my belief in what I was about to do before I straightened my jacket. I strode towards the doors, squeezing past groups of girls, only to be overwhelmed by screaming and shouting. I stepped into the large refreshments area to see people pushing even harder and frantically than before. A girl beside me was crying and she looked up at me through teary eyes.

“Steve Miller hugged me,” she said, her voice wavering with her sobs. “I met Steve Miller. Oh my God!”

My eyes widened and I felt my pulse rocketing. He’s been here? I snapped my gaze to the left to see hoards of people pointing towards another set of open doors that lead away from the auditorium. I instantly joined the crowds that were flocking towards my dad. People pushed and shoved as I fought my way through. I could hear angry shouts as I passed people but I didn’t look back. My eyes were fixed on the point that people were heading for, and I wasn’t going to let anyone stop me from getting to my dad.

I could see a gap in the throng of people and I shot forwards, glad to get some breathing space. My nose was filled with the smell of sweat and perfume and my lungs were gasping for fresh air. Conversations buzzed in my ears, pulling me in and out of focus. My heart was beating frantically in my chest. What if I missed him? No! The thought was clear in my head and I believed it. I wasn’t going to let it happen. I’d worked extra shifts to afford the ticket, even using some of the money I’d been saving for the past year; I didn’t earn much as a Saturday girl at the local supermarket but I kept telling myself that every little amount helped.

“Dad!” The word flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Dad!”

A few people turned to look at me but I ignored their inquisitive stares and carried on pushing forwards until I was finally out of the cage of bodies and at the end of a long corridor. I felt free but I didn’t have time to dwell on it for long. There were no windows where I was now. Instead, the walls were plastered with posters and flyers, advertising all sorts of bands. I could hear screaming fans flooding into the space behind me. I caught sight of a burly guy shielding a body from view and my heart leapt to my throat as I spotted a mass of messy black hair. It had to be my dad. A body knocked me from behind and I stumbled slightly, clutching my bag to my side to keep it from spilling its contents. I surged forwards, my eyes yet again on my target.

Paying no attention to everyone around me, I called out again, but I knew my voice hadn’t reached my dad. Panic set in then and I ran as fast as I could in the direction I’d seen them heading. Hurry, Elise. My thoughts were already beginning to betray me as I rounded a corner, straight into the burly guy I’d seen just now. He had a beer gut like the man who had been selling merchandise outside, but instead of short stubby arms, this guy had muscles that made my eyes bulge.

He glanced down at me and grabbed my arm as I made to flee around him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his gruff voice matching his masculine appearance.

I could hear people rounding the corner behind me, but all of my attention was on the man disappearing into the distance as he strode down another long corridor. The sight of his dark hair and leather jacket made goosebumps creep onto my flesh. My mind was going crazy at the thought of being so close to him after such a long time.

“Dad!” I shouted, my voice louder than it had been just now. “Dad! It’s me, Elise.”

The figure my eyes were set on didn’t turn around and my heart sank. The body guard’s grip on my arm tightened as I jolted forwards.

“Stay back, miss,” he said, his tone harsh. “I’m going to have to escort you outside.”

My eyes widened in panic. “No! You can’t.” I tugged against his grip. “I have to see my dad. Steve Miller. He’s my dad.” My words were rushed as I motioned to the man nearing the door at the end of the corridor and then at myself. “See, we’ve got the same hair and eyes.”

The body guard’s own eyes narrowed for a moment and I hoped desperately that he could see the similarities I was describing, but when he heaved me backwards I knew he didn’t care what I was saying.

I could feel my legs beginning to shake at the realisation that my idea might not work. That I wouldn’t get to see my dad.

“Dad!” My throat hurt as I screeched at the top of my lungs.

Everything fell silent then. The conversations around me seemed to falter and even the bouncer’s hold on my arm grew slack for a moment.

“Dad!” I screamed again. “It’s me. Your daughter.”

Frantic whispering started behind me and reached my ears as a static hiss. I could feel tears stinging my eyes but I stared through blurry vision at the man who had stopped dead in his tracks. Time seemed to slow down as he eventually turned around. His eyes fell on me and the bouncer, and the crowd that I knew had formed behind me, before resting on me again. His gaze seemed to soften as he scanned my face, his eyes squinting to see me from the other end of the hallway. I wanted to talk so badly but my throat felt like it had closed up and I was finding it hard to breathe.

“I’m sorry, sir. She wouldn’t stop screaming.” The bouncer’s voice sounded too loud in the quiet corridor. “She’s insisting that she’s your daughter.”

My dad took a couple of steps forwards and my breath caught in my throat. He looked just like he had five years ago. He still had the same messy hair and dark eyes. His leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders and his face was the same as I’d always pictured it. It was almost as if he hadn’t aged since the last time I’d seen him.

“Elise?”

The sound of his voice saying my name made me smile so wide that my cheeks hurt. “Yes,” I replied, my voice quiet. “It’s me, Dad.”

Nothing happened for a moment but the gentle expression on my dad’s face kept my heart rate sky high. My dream really is going to come true, I thought. My grin widened as another few steps bought him closer to me. The tension in the corridor was heavy on my shoulders but the sight before my eyes cancelled out the feeling of being watched.

“It’s me, Dad,” I said, my voice hushed now that I’d got his attention. “I can’t believe it’s you.” A happy tear rolled down my cheek. “It’s been so long.”

Silence followed my words again and all I could hear was the sound of blood pumping in my ears. Everything actually is going to be okay.

“What are you doing here?” he asked suddenly. He sounded confused, but the underlying tone was of annoyance. My heart stuttered and my last thought disintegrated into nothing as if the sound of his voice had rubbed it out like an eraser.

“I came to see you,” I replied, not quite believing that I had to explain myself. Surely it was obvious that I’d come to see him?

“But why?” He wasn’t trying to hide the annoyance from his voice now and the expression he’d been wearing hardened. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

“I know,” I mumbled. “I just thought.”

“You thought what? That I’d have time to see you?”

The bitterness in his voice hurt me just as much as if someone had cut me with a blade. I felt myself shrink backwards. “W-what?” I stammered. “I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”

He bit his lip then, almost to give himself time to think before answering me. “I am. It’s just that I’m so busy.”

I frowned and pulled free from the bouncers grip. He didn’t make to grab for me again. “Busy?” I sounded like a little child. “But I’m your daughter.” I could feel my bottom lip quivering. “Don’t y-you want to see m-me?”

A strained expression crossed his face and he strode towards me again before coming up short. “Of course I do.”

He didn’t sound like he meant it and I could feel different tears falling now. They were full of pent up frustration and defeat. Mum had been right to tell me not to come. She’d known it would be just like last time, when he hadn’t turned up to my twelfth birthday, even though he’d promised he would. The silence echoed around my head and I couldn’t focus on any of the thoughts that were whizzing around my brain.

“No.” The lone word was said with understanding and I felt my resistance fade. He was never going to change and I’d been stupid to think that he would. A stupid, delusional, idiot. “You don’t care enough to want to see me.”

“Elise.” My name sounded funny coming from him now and I shook my head to get the sound of it out of my head.

I clenched my fists tight by my side. “You wouldn’t have even recognised me if I hadn’t had chased you.”

He frowned. “How do you know that?” He was trying to sound like the parent he wasn’t now. He closed the gap between us with bold strides. “How can you be so sure?”

A sudden feeling of hatred rippled through my body. This wasn’t how today was supposed to have gone. He was supposed to be happy to see me, not questioning why I’d come. This was all his fault. “Because you haven’t seen me in five years!” The volume of my voice shocked me but I didn’t attempt to lower it. “Because you haven’t seen me in five years!”

Harsh whispering started behind me and as I turned around, I was surprised to see a huge crowd of teenagers. Some were watching me with pitying expressions and others looked away when I glanced them through wide, tear-filled eyes. They were all bunched together and it was then that I spotted more security guards holding the teenagers back.

I whipped my head back to face my dad again. He hadn’t even attempted to say anything. Instead, he was standing alone with his mouth hanging open slightly as if he’d caught himself when he was about to speak.

“I wasn’t supposed to see you, was I?” I questioned. “You’d only popped round to tell Mum that you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t even tell me yourself!” More tears poured from my eyes. “I was twelve,” I seethed. “I watched you leave from the lounge window. You didn’t even look back when you left.” I wiped angrily at the tears and stared at him accusingly. He was only inches away and he made a move to grab hold of my arm. As much as I wanted to yank my arm away, I let him grasp me, curious as to what he was going to do; little bits of hope holding out to his touch. He looked down at his hand on my arm with a surprised expression as if he hadn’t expected himself to reach out to me.

“You have no idea how busy I am.” His words sounded like a lame excuse.

“Too busy for a family, obviously,” I spat, my words injected with as much hate as I could muster. “You can’t just have a kid and then leave because you make it big. That’s not what you promised Mum on your wedding day.”

Another round of gossiping started behind me and my dad scowled, not pleased that I’d exposed the fact that he had a wife and now his child was here to question why he’d abandoned her.

“It’s difficult,” he said, his hold on my arm loosening.

“It’s difficult to understand how you can call yourself my dad,” I replied, looking up at him through blurry eyes. Tears soaked my face, smearing my make-up. The front of my jacket was wet with tears I’d cried over the pathetic man in front of me too and I had the urge to rip it off. I didn’t want to look or be like him anymore. We looked the same, standing in our leather jackets and biker boots, but I wanted nothing more than to be as different from him as I could. “How can you live the life you do when you know you’ve got a family at home that are struggling to get by?”

His jaw grew taut then as if he was finally certain of something he could say without sounding like an ass. “I send cheques every month.”

A maniacal sounding laugh escaped my lips. “It’s not about the money!” I yelled. “It’s the fact that I’ve never had a Dad.” I wrenched out of his weak grip and stumbled backwards. “Doesn’t that bother you?” I sounded like the little child again now. I could feel my dreams crumbling away and my heart breaking in my chest. “Don’t you care?”

I waited for half a heart beat before giving up. His hesitation was too much for me and the sobs that were finally being freed after so many years, racked my shoulders and made the last bit of hope I’d been holding onto disappear. He really doesn’t care. The thought broke me and I turned away as fast as I could and shoved my way through the spectators, leaving all thoughts of my dad, good and bad, behind. He didn’t even attempt to call after me. As far as I was concerned, I’d never even had a Dad.
Last edited by xDudettex on Tue May 31, 2011 10:34 pm, edited 2 times in total.
'Stop wishing for the sunshine. Start living in the rain.' - Kids In Glass Houses.

'Would you destroy something perfect in order to make it beautiful?' - MCR artwork.




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Aww, this was sad. The way the realization played out, with the flashbacks and whatnot, was quite effective. Poor girl.

The main problem I had through the story was the amount of info-dumps. Every few paragraphs, there'd be a paragraph just sort of... giving us information. Some of it didn't even feel all that important.

For instance, this one:
The queue moved up again and I stepped forwards, staring down at the biker boots I was wearing. I’d had them in a box under my bed since last Christmas, just waiting for the right time to wear them. Today had seemed like the best day to unwrap them and slip them on for the first time since I’d tried them on in the shop. Mum had been a bit obvious about buying them for me; sending me outside to wait with Martha. But I’d pretended not to notice. She was struggling lately and I wanted her to feel good for once. The smile on my face Christmas morning had been genuine; but it was the smile on her face that had bought on my grin, not the shoes so much.

This... didn't feel like it connected anywhere. Sure, the boots sort of get a mention again later when she is talking with her dad, but for right then in the story, with the anecdote being recalled... no really connection. It's just sort of a little blip in the moment.

In a longer work, with a bunch of different themes, this might not be such a big deal. It could come in again later, or this could be illustrating her family. But here, this story is about her and her dad, with maybe a bit of her mom's disapproval of the whole thing. Everything needs to connect to this. And while I acknowledge again the little nod at the end, it still doesn't really seem to come in. Maybe make a slightly bigger deal about how her mom had been struggling? Or why this seemed to be the perfect time to wear them? Something to tie it into the main theme of the story. Otherwise I'd say cut it.

I liked this though. It was very nice and simple, but quite emotional. I'd just say tighten it up a little with paragraphs like the one I pointed out. Streamline a bit, make it all count towards the payoff. It's strong now, but with a little more direct "oomph", it could be even more powerful.

Feel free to drop me a line if you have any questions!

~GryphonFledgling
I am reminded of the babe by you.




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Hello! So I figured I would review this, since I loved the song so much. ^.^

I really think this has an interesting plot. Father abandons family for his big break, daughter is heartbroken, but realizes that her dad is, and always will be a dead beat. There is something very real and heartbreaking about it. I think everyone can relate to heartbreak, when they lost something that was really important to them, though it might not be on such grand a scale as this one. Your character is sympathetic, and I really feel for her.

However, I think this could be improved. I agree with Gryph, that, at points, this got slightly info-dumpy. I feel like this story kind of dragged a little, particularly in the first half when your MC is waiting in line. So, here is my biggest suggestion for improvement I think: shorten this. I think if you get rid of some of the infodumps, your story will be much stronger. Details about the boots, or the makeup, or what she is wearing, I don't think add much to your story. However, I would try to keep and possibly expand on the details about her family, and Elise and Steve's relationship before this point. The dynamic there might be really interesting, and might make her realisation at the end all the more powerful.

My next suggestion might just be due to the fact that I am horrible with spacial relationships, but I had trouble visualizing the concert hall, and where exactly Steve was and where Elise was at any given time. I actually pictured Steve and his band on a float type thing, with adoring fans on the side, sort of like a parade, which I am guessing is not the effect you wanted. I might add a few more descriptors in there. I was really confused, but like I said, that might just be me.

I would like to talk about your MC. I feel for her, but right now she could be anyone. I don't really know much about her. How does she view the world differently than others? What's her point of view? Particularly because your writing in the first person, I think her voice she come out more. I think we understand her desperation, we understand her heartbreak, I mean, she waited in line for hours just to see her father, right? But how has living life without a father, who happens to be famous, coloured her view of the world? Is she cynical about about everything but her father? Or does she hang on to that naive optimism in every area of her life?

So, just a small overall nitpick to end, you use the words "then" and "realisation" quite a few times in this piece to the point where they kind of stuck out. As you edit this, I would try and cut/substitute as many of those words as you can, I think it will really help to tighten up this piece.

Well I guess that is all I have. You have a great start here, I might just focus on condensing it a bit. If you have any comments or questions feel free to wall/PM me!

Audrey
"I've never told a lie, and that makes me a liar
I've never made a bet, but we gamble in desire
I've never lit a match with intent to start a fire,
But recently the flames are getting out of control"




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Hi! :D You checked out my entry, so I thought I'd check out yours! I like it, but it makes my confidence lower! XD Just a few nitpicks, like any other story, though.

The crowds moved forwards forward a couple of inches and I hurried to fill the gap (comma) worried that, if I hesitated for too long, someone would push in front of me.


Also, that's a run-on sentence, you could probably break it up. COULD. Just something of a suggestion, you absolutely don't have to, and it's not grammatically incorrect.

Guilt struck me then and I shook my head to rid the thoughts that were filling my head.


You said head, one after the other in this sentence. Maybe if you switched the second "head" with something different, like "mind" or "brain" ?

“Techno fan, shirt, love?”


First of all, I would get rid of the first comma, because it seems like he's calling her a techno fan, pointing out the shirt, and then calling her love... it's a tad confusing, I had to read it a few times. Just say "Techno fan shirt, Love?" because then you know that the shirt is about the Techno Fan thing.
Second, I think the "F" in "fan" should be capitalized, since in the spoiler, you pointed out that it was a song. Also, the "L" in "love" should be capitalized, since it's the name he's calling her.

“Only a tenner, love. Best price you’ll get one.”


Again, "Love" is what he's calling her, so it should be capitalized.

He was only inches away and he made a move to grab hold of my arm.


“How you can can you live the life you do when you know you’ve got a family at home that are struggling to get by?”


Hmm... I think that was all I found.... But I hope I could be of some help to you. I really loved this so much. The dad was an ass, though >:(
Thanks again for the review! And good luck on the contest!
If there's a 50/50 chance of getting something wrong go for it anyway because there is also a 50/50 chance of getting it right

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity. ~Edgar Allen Poe




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Howdy thar, my mint BriStish friend. I was going to read this piece while listening to the song, but there's the most enormous thunder-and-lightening storm going on right now (well, it's died down a lot now, actually), and it seems like a shame to plug my ears with earbuds when I could be listening to the sounds of rain and thunder and wind. Remind me to listen to that song when Zeus gets tired.

Anyhow. Your story.

I think it has a lot of good things going for it. Your storyline and characters are really intriguing and kept me reading. I really like that you didn't reveal everything in the beginning but just let the story unfold--I was a little confused at first ("what?! Why's someone selling her a shirt that she already has??") but I liked that you let me realize what was going on rather than telling me. Also, some of your emotional descriptions are very powerful (whoa, my house just lost electricity... oh, it's back now) and you did a really good job of portraying Elise's feelings and thoughts in a way that felt very immediate. Nicely done.

I do agree with other reviews in that this piece feels like it drags on a bit, especially in the beginning. Your whole opening (the first, like, eight paragraphs or something) felt like it went on way too long. I started losing interest, especially because I didn't really know what was going on yet. I'd suggest making your beginning more attention-grabbing and saving the flashbacks for later. I think if you worked a little more on using that opening to let us know what the setting is like, rather than letting us know what her history is like, it would be a better way to ease your readers into the story. Plus, pretty much everything you say in the flashbacks becomes evident in the argument in the end, so they're not really necessary, methinks. You could probably take them out entirely.

What Audrey said about spacial description is, I think, spot on. Throughout the whole beginning part I had no idea where she was or what it was like--I actually somehow got it in this silly little brain of mine that she was at an airport/bus stop/train station waiting for her father to come home. Also, the whole time they were having the argument/discussion, I didn't really know where they were. I thought they were back stage, because it seemed like they were alone (you stopped mentioning people around them)... but then it turned out they weren't alone at all, and there was still a screaming crowd of teenagers nearby. I think I could use with a better description there, and more consistency.

Along the same lines of condensing this piece, I think you need to think about not repeating things. You repeat a lot in this piece--like I said, the whole conversation with her father is pretty much the same as the flashbacks in the beginning, so that's a big repetition that could be taken care of. But you're even repetetive within each of those sections. I feel like their conversation started going around in circles a little bit, asking the same questions in slightly different ways. If you consolidated it all, it would be a lot more powerful.

So far, I've pretty much been agreeing with Audrey (she pointed out pretty much everything I was going to), but here's where I'll have to disagree with her: the details. I liked them. I think they're what make the story come alive--they're what make the piece interesting as a piece, not just as a story. In fact, I'd suggest adding more of those. Little details can go a long way in helping us connect with the character and the surroundings.

Something that I wondered about is why Elise cared about her mother. See, everything you ever say about her mother is negative (about how she smokes and looks older than she is, about how she gave up and didn't want Elise to see her father, etc.) so when you go into talking about how Elise just wants everything to be easier for her mother, it felt a little off to me because I didn't understand where that sudden burst of love was coming from.

Also, try not to make it too obvious when things aren't going to go as expected. If you go on about how good she expects it to be, it's pretty obvious to me that you're just leading up to saying "but everything went wrong". In fact, it hardly seems like Elise is even sincere. Take this paragraph, for instance:
Spoiler
A sudden bout of screaming started and I snapped my head up to see the crowds starting to inch forward. The butterflies swarmed my stomach and I gripped my ticket through the material of my jeans. This is it. There was no going back now. I had to stay strong, force my way back stage to see him. Security would probably try to stop me, thinking I was some crazed fan, but then everything would be okay once I’d explained who I was. They’d get Dad and then he’d see me and we’d have a chat and everything would be great. He’d play the gig to hundreds of adoring fans and then he’d come back home with me. Mum would see him and then they’d fall in love all over again. Dad would accept Martha as his and then we’d finally be a happy family. I knew that I probably sounded crazy, mental, off my rocker, but I didn’t care. Nothing meant more to me than fixing things for Mum and being so close to doing it, but having to wait around, was almost unbearable.
If you hadn't had this paragraph I actually might have thought that things would go perfectly. But having this makes me know that they won't, because I know you wouldn't have her think this and then make it all happen just the way she'd imagined. Also, it doesn't feel sincere. Since I know they won't happen, it's hard for me to think that Elise thinks they'll happen.

All in all, I think this has a ton of potential. It really just needs to be condensed--and hopefully I've given you a few ideas on how you might go about doing that. I've rambled on quite enough now, I think. It's time for me to stop. Please do let me know if you have any questions or anything. :}

a



Every first draft is perfect, because all a first draft has to do is exist.
— Jane Smiley