Chapter 11 – Rick's Vow: To Protect Her for a Lifetime
Peter Waterman was practically euphoric.
Rick Astley had been the most promising talent he'd discovered in years—but who could have imagined Rick had a younger sister whose talent was even more explosive?
That clear, ethereal, silky-smooth voice lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.
"Rick," Peter said after a moment's daze, "I think the song just now—" He paused. "What's it called?"
Audrey answered immediately. "Picture to Burn."
"Picture to Burn," he repeated, nodding. "You should rearrange it into a duet version."
"No recording today. Prepare it properly first."
Rick finally let out a breath. No matter what, he'd survived today.
Peter reached the door, then suddenly turned back.
"Rick, what kind of brother are you? Look at what Audrey is wearing."
After returning the night before, Audrey had simply rummaged through Rick's room and grabbed one of his T-shirts and shorts as pajamas.
Now, seen through Peter's eyes, it was painfully inappropriate.
The oversized clothes looked striking on Audrey—if not for her elegant appearance and aura, she might have been mistaken for a refugee.
Rick scratched his head. She had only arrived last night—there hadn't been time to shop.
Audrey shook her head gently. "Mr. Waterman, our family isn't well-off… you know that."
Her deer-like eyes were lively and pure, perfectly portraying a fragile girl from a poor household.
To be fair, wearing the face of a young Audrey Hepburn was already cheating.
Peter Waterman stood no chance.
He immediately pulled out his wallet.
"Rick, really—you should've said something. You can suffer, but Audrey must not."
Under Rick's stunned gaze, Peter handed Audrey one thousand pounds.
Peter Waterman was famously stingy. At a time when Rick had yet to produce a hit, his company paid him only 850 pounds a month.
The disparity was brutal. Even Rick felt a pang of jealousy.
"Audrey, take this and buy yourself some nice clothes," Peter said with a wide smile, utterly different from his stern first impression. "I look forward to seeing you both in the studio."
Then he turned to Rick, the smile vanishing instantly. "I'm very satisfied with Picture to Burn. Work hard these next few days and finish the duet arrangement."
With that, he waved and left.
Rick stood frozen by the door, while Audrey had already run back into the kitchen—she hadn't finished breakfast yet.
"Brother Rick, once I'm done eating, let's go shopping!"
Rick nodded and went upstairs to change.
Even now, his mind hadn't caught up.
Last night, he'd picked up a homeless, amnesiac girl.
She'd called him brother.
He'd named her and accepted her as family.
This sister was a genius.
She wrote a song that stunned Mr. Waterman.
Her singing talent surpassed his own.
She'd even extracted a thousand pounds from a legendary miser.
And yet—wasn't she supposed to have amnesia?
Did any of this make sense?
But logic aside, Audrey had saved him.
They were going to form a duo anyway. Even as colleagues, that was fine—as long as she didn't drain his wallet.
Audrey changed into her black-and-white dress, the bow at the collar eye-catching and elegant.
If Peter Waterman were still here, he would've recognized it instantly: a custom-made luxury piece.
Unfortunately, Rick lacked the eye—and mistook nobility for poverty.
Rick's place was near Manchester Square, with the closest shopping center being Marks & Spencer, just three blocks away.
As they stepped outside, they noticed several strangely dressed men lurking in the usually quiet alley, scanning their surroundings with grim expressions.
Rick, ever kind-hearted, stepped forward.
"Excuse me, sirs—what are you doing near my home?"
One of them replied coldly, "We're secret police, hunting a dangerous fugitive. He's killed two people."
Rick gasped. "So you're police?"
He was painfully easy to trust—put kindly, innocent.
"Is there anything I can do to help? Do you have a photo?"
The man snapped back impatiently, "This criminal is extremely dangerous. This isn't your business. Leave."
Rick retreated, grumbling to Audrey. "I was just trying to help! Do secret police have to be so rude?"
Thinking of stories where secret police acted without restraint, he shivered. "Audrey, let's go. These people are bad news."
Indeed, they were.
Audrey thought calmly.
They were Aurors. The wand holsters at their waists were unmistakable—only Muggles would be fooled.
And the "dangerous fugitive" they were hunting was almost certainly her.
The Aurors had noticed them the moment they left the house. When they saw Audrey's clothing, excitement flickered—then vanished when they saw her face.
Wizards knew little of Muggle fashion. They didn't realize modern Muggle children wouldn't dress like this.
Just like that, the Aurors missed Hydras.
And perhaps, in that brief crossing, they lost her forever.
Marks & Spencer was a historic retailer.
The moment Rick and Audrey entered, they became the center of attention.
It was inevitable—wearing Audrey Hepburn's face had that effect.
"Mom!" a little girl exclaimed. "That big sister looks like Audrey Hepburn!"
"Hermione," her mother said firmly, "commenting on someone's appearance like that is rude."
The girl mumbled an apology and lowered her head.
Audrey glanced over. The girl was six or seven years old, with bushy brown hair, bright eyes, a pretty face—and prominent front teeth.
…No way.
Hermione Granger? One of the original trio?
Sensing Audrey's gaze, the mother nodded apologetically. Audrey returned a bright smile and immediately dragged Rick into a nearby clothing store.
No chance. She had worked far too hard to stay away from Hogwarts to walk into the plot herself.
Was lying low no longer comfortable? Was slacking off no longer enjoyable?
Half an hour later, Rick emerged carrying two sets of clothes, pulled along by Audrey.
"Audrey, we have money—why not buy more?"
Audrey stopped and turned, deadly serious.
"Brother! Clothes are only meant to be worn. Our biggest problem right now is—"
"The fridge is empty!"
Back home, Rick was deeply moved.
Audrey had been so frugal for the sake of the household, yet he had doubted her origins.
He felt like a monster.
Audrey was an angel. How could she ever hurt him?
The more he thought about it, the guiltier he felt.
What did he have that she could possibly scam?
She hadn't taken a single penny from him—instead, she'd stocked the house with food and necessities.
All bought with money she'd earned from Peter "Iron Rooster" Waterman.
Such a wonderful sister—Rick Astley swore to protect her for the rest of his life.
God as his witness.
Originally, he'd thought of vowing to take care of her—but considering his own lack of skills, it was more likely she'd end up taking care of him.
So he changed it.
Protect her.
Yes. Protect her for a lifetime.