#missy duthe
Text
Challenge #0.5
Aka The fic where Missy overthinks and Meets Jackson
a/n: Hello, this was supposed to be posted prior to challenge 1 but I.... didn’t like the opening HAHAHAHAHA so I reworked it and I like this version better. (get’s into Missy’s mindset a little better... I think... and her priorities too HAHAHAHA)
Anyways, this is set in the first night in the palace. Thank you Bri (@jackson-graham) for this RP (this was the first ever RP I actually did as Missy BSJNDJNJ very illuminating in terms of speech style and mannerisms) , (as always: just saying,,,, Jordan Fisher makes me, ~swoon~ LMAO). Anywhos! enjoy hehe (2704 words)
If you ask me about things that keep me up late at night, I never would have guessed that Arin Schreave would have been somewhere in the top 3.
Well, meeting Arin Schreave to be more specific.
In the top 2, was what I was going to wear tomorrow. In the top 1 spot was “are people going to like me around here?”
I could have been lying on the most comfortable bed, with a beautiful view of the ocean and it could be the dead of night in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever had the opportunity to visit, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was going to meet the prince and what exactly I’ve gotten myself into.
For the past two weeks, I’ve been waiting to wake up from all of this, half expecting that this was all some strangely long dream. That /I/, of all the girls from Midston, was picked to meet the prince. Oh gosh what was I doing here?
I suppose the greater question was why was I walking to the kitchens in the dead of night in the palace?
I sigh, wrapping my arms around myself as I continued walking down the hallway I knew where the kitchen was. My maids were kind enough to show me where they placed some of the packed meals I brought with me.
Stressing over meeting a prince really did work up an appetite.
Everything’s fine. Everything’s cool. You’ve already picked out your dress, you’ve taken the time to already practice in the shoes you were going to wear tomorrow. You’ve practiced some of your answers for the interview tomorrow! You’re ready. I mean, come on. You’ve talked to boys before. All this stressing about meeting one boy was definitely going to give me stress lines in the morning. Oh shoot, do I make a right or left by the painting of Danielle Schreave?
Right. I had to make a right then go straight. Huh, the palace was even lovelier in the daytime, and a lot easier to navigate too, but just a few steps more… and I finally find myself at the door Campbell showed me earlier.
Back in Orleans, I was surrounded by a group of people who liked me—but over here? I had to build up my entire image here from the ground up… and well, I hoped the cupcakes daddy made would help me make friends but… wait, was there someone else in the kitchen?
“What the—” I mutter, seeing someone sitting on top of the counter, munching on… were those the friendship cupcakes I brought with me?
He was… young. My age, I suppose? Familiar looking, but I couldn’t really pinpoint why. He blinks a few times at me, swallowing the bite he just took.
“Oh, uh… hello” I hear the sound of his phone locking before he sets it on the counter.
I reach up to push some of my unbrushed hair back, trying to make myself look presentable before flashing a smile. Smiling always works, right?
“Hi! I’m Missy! I,” my eyes glance over to what else was in his hands, cupcake… yeap, before my eyes go back to him, “I just got here.”
He hops off the counter and I get a better look at him as he holds out his free hand for a shake, “Jackson. Been here for a while.” He flashes a small lopsided smile.
I maintain my smile, shaking his hand lightly. Jackson. Again… it was familiar. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jackson.”
Jackson shakes my hand firmly before letting go, “And yours, Missy.”
He holds up the cupcake in his other hand, “Would you like one?”
I can’t help but laugh, eyeing the fridge and make my way to it, a little ways past him.
“No thank you, I had something else in mind. Anyway. I’m glad you’re enjoying my daddy’s cupcakes.”
I catch him setting the cupcake down then rubbing the back of his neck from the corner of my eye. “I um, I’m sorry, I thought they were left behind from dinner.” A small frown appears on his face.
“Oh there’s no need for apologies,” I laugh, trying to put him at ease.
I open the fridge, looking for one of the couple glass containers I brought with me in this huge fridge. Grammy really did make sure that I wouldn’t go hungry over here. Ah here they are. I take the container out and close the fridge. Oh right, Jackson was still here. Cupcakes. Right.
“My daddy made me bring a couple of dozen of those with me.” My eyes look over to where the rest of the cupcakes were, smiling at the memory of my dad giving me those dozens of cupcakes with smileys drawn on them. “Have another one, if you’d like.” I offer.
Jackson’s lips press together, a finger tapping on his leg. He eyes the remaining cupcakes.
“They’re very good.” Jackson looks back to me. “Is he a baker?”
“Yesiree, one of the best bakers his side of Orleans.” I nod, trying to scan the room for a microwave, tapping my nails against my glass container. “And they’re not just god, they’re vegan.”
His brows raise, I wonder if they were threaded or just naturally nice. Why are guy brows always naturally nice?
“Really?” He picks up the cupcake he left behind and takes a large bite, looking like he was taking his good time to chew before swallowing. Huh, he seems pleasantly surprised. “They taste every bit as good as non-vegan cupcakes.”
“That’s exactly what everyone’s been telling me too,” I laugh. “I don’t know how he does it.” I shake my head lightly, thinking back to the long and winded discussions daddy and I would have over dinner, asking me to try his new vegan cupcakes, then thinking back to the glass container in my hands.
“Mind pointing me in the direction of a microwave?” I ask.
“Sure.” Jackson walks towards me, he points to somewhere behind me. “That door slides to the right. You’ll find it in there.” He flashes a small smile. “Odd, I know.”
“Much thanks.” I grin back to him, turning and walking to the cabinet he pointed out. Sliding it. Why wasn’t it opening?
“Oh..” I was sliding it to the left. I laugh to myself then look to my hands. Right hand, yes. I nod to myself and slide the door to the right, revealing the microwave. “Sometimes I forget which side is which.”
Jackson chuckles, sticking his hands in his pockets. “It’s a wonder you made it here safely.”
“I know! I can’t quite believe how I didn’t get lost on the way here.” I giggle, turning back to the microwave to open it and put my container inside. Why did he look so familiar? Where have I heard that name before?
“So Mister Jackson, do you have a last name?”
He averts his eyes for a moment, then looks back to me. My brows raise at that. Was it weird to ask him his last name? ((“Waldia. Jackson Waldia.”))
“Graham. Jackson Graham.”
“It has a nice ring to it.” I reply to him. I press a couple of buttons on the microwave. Cook time. Uh… two and half minutes seems alright. The microwave starts to whirr. Jackson Graham did sound like a nice name.
Graham. Jackson Graham. As in… Jackson Graham…. The brother of Felicity Graham…? Ex-Fianceé to Prince Arin…. Oh. Could that be why he averted his eyes? If I met someone who potentially could be the replacement girlfriend to my sister’s ex-fiancé, I probably would have done the same. I wouldn’t know. I’m an only child. “You’re the prince’s friend, right?”
He nods quickly, “Mostly. More with Safiya though. Well, Princess Safiya.” A small smile appears. “Haven’t called her that in a while.”
“Guess someone’s Mister Popular with the royals…” I tease, turning fully to face him, leaning on the cabinet.
“A byproduct of being the younger Graham.” He tilts his head, his eyes moving to somewhere behind me. “A vegan meal I take it?”
“How’d you guess?” I give a quick glance back to the microwave.
“Luckily.” He meets my gaze again. “Did you follow in his footsteps? With the baking?”
I blink, but quickly shake my head. “As a hobby, yes. Professionally? Not quite.” I laugh. “I followed my mama’s footsteps in that department.”
“Weddings. I plan weddings.” I add, feeling a sense of pride saying it.
Jackson seems intrigued, but considers my reply before giving me a crooked smile.
“I think I’ve finally met someone in a business happier than mine.” He replies.
I grin at that remark. “And what business are you in, Jackson?” I put my hands behind me, what exactly are other happy occupations?
“Aspiring veterinarian. Right now I work at an animal shelter.” His smile grows ever so slightly, but I feel myself instinctively smile wider. I gasp, just at the thought of working with animals. That sounds super adorable.
“That sounds absolutely delightful! You must get to work with the cutest little critters.”
A small laugh comes from him, “Critters is definitely one word for them. You’re right though. I couldn’t love another job more.”
“If you ask me, I think your business is happier than mine.” I chuckle, pushing some of my hair back. “I mean, nothing’s more pure than that.” Comparing it to weddings, working with animals does sound more pure for sure.
His arms fold loosely across his chest. “I could argue love in a marriage is just as pure.”
Love in a marriage. I place a hand on my cheek. Oh, you could only hope for that. That feeling when you’re walking down the aisle to the person you know you want to spend the rest of your life with, that security, that love.
“Weddings are definitely filled with pure joy.” Oh I hope I could find that here. Here. Selection. Palace. Prince. I blink for a couple of seconds, pulling myself from my daydream… nightdream?
“You can only hope for that.” I shake myself out of it. I was hoping to find that here, maybe.
“Is that why you got into the business? To take part in the joy?”
“I’ve always loved weddings, even when I was little. Everything… everything about it so magical. The moment you see a bride on her wedding day and when she walks down the aisle.” I squeal unapologetically, feeling the secondhand butterflies in my stomach just thinking of it. I live for those moments. “It just makes me so happy to see everyone happy.”
Jackson points a finger to me and my fangirling over weddings, “Pure. See?”
I grin. “I guess you could say I’m just a die hard for weddings.” I laugh to myself. Was living on secondhand butterflies from weddings really that bad? Not actually. At least I wasn’t bitter over people’s happiness. Not at all. Okay… maybe slightly jealous but that’s beyond my point.
The microwave beeps as I continue to explain. “But maybe animals can make you just as happy. My mama has always told me that happiness can come in any shape or form.”
He hums at that. “Thankfully, so do animals.” He breathes out a chuckle through his nose.
“Oh definitely!” I open the microwave, talking about animals making me think of my own pet. “Huh, makes me already miss Pancake.” I take my container out, damn it was still hot. I quickly set it on the counter.
“Dog? Cat? Bird?” he asks, opening a drawer and handing me a fork.
“More like… a pet pig.” I laugh, taking the fork and waiting for his reaction. I wonder what an aspiring veterinarian would think of a pet pig…
He gapes for a moment, looking quite intrigued, “Do you really?”
“Now why would I lie about having a pet pig?” I lean my side against the counter, giving him my best amused look. “Pancake the sweetest little thing you’ll find.”
Jackson’s brows furrow, “Why a pig? Do you have other livestock?”
“Not really, we don’t have any other animals other than Pancake.” I shake my head, grinning. “Some people choose to have a dog, I just… got a pig”
Pancake was a gift from a client, and he’s been a part of my family ever since I was 15. Been the cutest little thing in the family since me.
“Uncommon.” He smiles. “I appreciate that.”
“Pancake’s the reason why, I kind of went… vegan.” I smirk, “I mean acon wasn’t the same after I got him.”
He chuckles, “I can imagine. I have a feeling I might go down the same path starting next year.”
I raise my brows. “Well if you need a recipe or two to start adjusting, you’ll know where to find me.” Did that sound… too cocky? Oh god. “Not that I’m implying that I might stay here long, I mean—I HOPE I DO!” I set the fork in my vegan pasta.
There were no guarantees that I was actually staying here. Oh I should stop rubbing my wrists, that’s not cute at all. I breathe out a laugh. Oh wow, even when I laugh it’s awkward.
“You know, it’s okay. To be confident about staying.” A small smile forms on his face. I appreciate people who try to smile to cheer others up. “Not everyone is confident in the good kind of context, but it seems like you have the right idea.”
I look to him after considering his words, trying to relax myself.
“Sorry,” I shake my head. “Tomorrow’s just a big day, and well, I guess you can call this first night jitters.”
I think to myself, why was I so worried? Maybe it’s because you saw your competition today, all 34 of them.
I’ve never felt so small before, and I was 5 foot 9! Still, I felt so small, even when having read the backgrounds on everyone in the magazines. They were beautiful, well-educated, and a lot of their names were scattered more than mine was when we got to the airport.
I press my lips together, trying to dismiss those thoughts. I was well-liked back home, everyone loved me back in Orleans. I was going to be my best self and let everything follow.
I straighten my back.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ll do plenty fine. I know…” he seems to pause ever so slightly, “the situation is precarious. But Arin is kind. Remember that, despite everything else.” He smiles kindly at me.
For the first time in a long time, I felt so small in the scheme of all things, like I didn’t have much control. Kindness was the only thing that could soothe my mind for now, or the guarantee of the presence of kindness. I hope Arin was as kind as Jackson said.
“Kindness is all that I can really as for here.” I feel my smile tilting, “or anywhere really.” I look down on my glass container and try to pick it up, but it was still too hot. Guess I’ll have to improvise. I grab a part of my dress’ skirt to act as a mitt and it surprisingly worked.
“I’ll be having this in my room.” I feel myself smile a little brighter as I walk to Jackson’s direction, and gesture my head to the direction of the cupcakes on the counter.
“Help yourself to more of the cupcakes. See it as an introduction to veganism 101.” I scrunch my face up, teasing him.
He chuckles a bit, “Thanks. I hope you um, enjoy the meal.” He gestures to what I’m holding.
“Thank you for showing me where the microwave is.” I say before starting to make my way back to the door I came in. “Nice meeting you, Mister Jackson Graham!”
“You too, Missy.” I hear him call back, seeing him offer a small wave from the corner of my eye.
Aside from the stylists and my maids, that was the first full conversation I’ve had here. Huh, who knew my conversation here was gonna be with the brother of the Prince’s ex-fiancee.
I wonder if his sister was as nice as he was.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
challenge #3.5
aka the animal shelter (jackson #4)
a/n: i must say-- writing has been tough for me the past few weeks what with school but I bring yall this fic before stuff goes down at the ball. enjoy this fic yall, IT’S ADORABLE. @jackson-graham ;) Bri you know ily, thank you for this RP AS ALWAYS. Doc link is in the title. ENJOY, I also have some a/ns in the notes because Missy is too dumb a bitch to notice certain things and I can’t help but mention them . this is also my longest fic so far LMAO (9346 words)
An independent community engagement proposal.
Oh gosh, it was exciting to really have the chance to try and make a difference. Try to do something big and grand to really help people. It was a way for me to show everyone that maybe I didn’t constantly have weddings and parties on the brain. If I was somehow still here in the palace, even if my disastrous first date with Arin, I guess I needed to show everyone that I had more to offer than just being Missy the Wedding Planner. Something a little more princess material, yesiree!
Still, finding a cause close to my heart was more difficult than I actually planned.
I mean… it was difficult… to really figure out a struggle to help with.
One day, it just struck me though, while I was talking to my Grammy on the phone. Reminiscing about the long days we spent together at the Oncology center in Orleans. For all my years, maybe the worst struggle I’ve seen up so close to was having to go see my Grammy go through the Big C.
A part of me wanted to think of a way to help local oncology centers, and I had to think for a couple of good days until I realized something while sitting in the greenhouse. Somehow I was reminded of a previous conversation here.
This is going to sound weird but, what’s working in an animal shelter like?
It’s hard. Lots of animals, easy to love, but not easy to see what’s been done to them. Or witness how plenty of them are looked over for other animals.
A program that helped train shelter animals to be therapy animals for public spaces.
It was perfect, and I got to work with it as soon as I got back to my room.
Maybe I was a little way over my head initially, but after a couple of days, I was able to Joogle and contact who I needed to call, which is something not entirely new to me.
It was like calling a bunch of vendors for a party, except it wasn’t vendors and the party was a community project that wasn’t really a party.
The beneficiary partners of the project were going to be the East Angeles Oncology Center and one of the city’s main social centers. Convincing them was initially tough if it weren’t for the fact that I mentioned that I was a Selected. Talking about the project and how they could benefit from it was pretty easy after that.
The possible animal trainers were a quick reference thanks to a previous client of mine apparently being on its board of directors. No wonder their dog was their ring bearer.
I needed a couple of them to help make a course that would allow the animals,
I just needed an animal shelter partner. Luckily, I was just waiting for another chance to see the right person to help me with that.
----------
“Jackson! Oh my gosh!” I wave over and try to run over to where he is.
It was a couple days of waiting, sometimes seeing an empty hallway and hoping I would see his face when I would turn a corner. I really just spent most of that time preparing my proposal, writing things down while hoping to get a chance to talk to him and ask for his help. Most days to no success. Today, however, was my lucky day.
Jackson seems to turn when he hears me call his name, stopping in his tracks with a wave back at me. I was careful not to trip in my heels as I ran over to him down the hall.
“Hi Missy.” He greets with a signature warm smile.
I catch up to him, though needing a moment to catch my breath. I raise up my hand for a quick moment. Ooo wait give me a sec to breathe. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Okay, good.
“I was hoping to see you again around here.” I push some of my hair behind, hoping it would let me catch the air better. “How are you?”
“Not too busy.” His brows raise as he eyes my stance. “You okay?” he gestures to my breathing.
“Oh yeah, I’ve just been… running around doing some errands.” I laugh it off, straightening myself.
Jackson was the person I needed to onboard if I really wanted my independent community engagement proposal to be real. Convince him, and it could all fall into place.
“So I was thinking, um... I’m working on this project. I mean— all the girls are working on individual projects for... community engagement. AND! I— I was thinking of... asking for your help on this one.”
Mayhaps explaining it all in one go was a poor choice. Nonetheless, all Jackson does is blink, his smile not vanishing.
“I’m happy to help, Missy. What’s up?”
I suck in a breath. Mayhaps asking this huge favor was a little too much.
Hmm... nah.
“I was hoping that I could ask you to take me to the animal shelter, the one you’ve told me before.” I look to him, trying to contain my excitement. This was the last piece of the huge puzzle.
Jackson looks pleasantly surprised. “You want to use the animal shelter for your project? Really?”
“I mean, why not use the shelter for my project? It could be the model for what I want to propose.” I feel my smile soften at that thought. I really wanted this to happen. “It could give the critters a second life and purpose beyond just waiting for someone to adopt them.”
That was something I definitely remembered from my last conversation with Jackson. Broke my heart to think about that again. Maybe that’s why I was so determined to get Jackson’s shelter to be the partner for my project rather than any other shelter I could call up in Angeles.
“Yeah. It really could.” His smile softens. After a beat, he shakes his head and looks down. Odd. “Um, are you allowed to leave the palace?” He looks up once more to me.
“Well—” I trail off, my own eyes falling to the ground. “I don’t think it would hurt if I was gone for one afternoon.”
As my Grammy always said, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission.
I tuck my hair behind my ears. Asking for favors was a little more difficult than both of those.
“What do you say Mister Jackson Graham?”
((ALRIGHT A/N: LEAVING HOW BRI PHRASED THE REPLY BECAUSE MISSY CAN’T PICK THIS UP BUT…. *CRIES* I WISH SHE DID
*AH HER SAYING HIS NAME THAT WAY. how could he not agree? finds himself nodding* Yes, of... of course))
Jackson seems to nod, “Yes, of… of course.”
I feel my smile grow at his agreement. It’s all falling into place! It just wasn’t going to be some things I wrote on paper!
“Thank you thank you thank you!” I step a closer to Jackson and—wait.
Okay.
Mayhaps… I shouldn’t give him a hug.
I quickly tuck my hands behind my back, hoping that I didn’t look as awkward as I already felt. Um, say something Melissa.
“You have no idea how much this means to me. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”
From the look on his face, he seems to know where I was initially going with my hands, but thankfully, he doesn’t seem to bring it up. All he does is chuckle.
“You don’t have to promise. I know it will be.” He then makes a gesture to a certain direction for us to start walking.
Oh, I didn’t think we were gonna go ASAP… but, the idea of getting to go to the shelter right away was something I wasn’t opposed to.
“Thank you so much again.” I nod a couple of times, smiling as we begin walking. I guess Jackson was wondering why I wanted to go. I should explain myself, or at least try.
“I just... I just want to know, understand, what it’s like.” I start off. Trying to find the right words to put it. Looking back at my life in Orleans, it felt like living in a nice little bubble where everyone seemed to protect me. Mama especially since she never wanted me to even see the hardship she faced when she was still a Six. “It seems easy to just write about a place on paper but, I feel like I should personally know what it’s really like in shelters. You know?”
A part of me knew that I never got to see a part of the world before, but being in the Selection. All those princess lessons. It all really could make a girl wonder about… well the world out there and the not-so pretty fairytale type of situations.
“I think that can apply to most issues like these.” Jackson’s head bobs slightly. “But I do understand. I’m glad you... you want to witness it all.”
I nod again a couple of times, “It’s a place to start, seeing things as they are currently helps you understand what they should be or could be in the future.” I eye him, wanting to tease him. “Lucky for me, I had the right person in mind to help me with that.”
Jackson laughs bashfully, looking down at his feet while we still walked. “Right. I’m just glad I can help.” He smiles in my direction before we take a couple of more steps and opens a nearby door, gesturing for me to go in first. Warms my heart to see that chivalry wasn’t dead, at least not with Jackson.
“Are you sure, it’s not too much trouble on your part? For all I know, you’ve got some important work today at the shelter.” I ask while stepping through the door, waiting for him to step through before we start walking down a narrower and less fancy-looking hallway.
“I have a light load today. And they’re always looking for new people to show around, they think it’s fun.” He sounds amused saying this.
“I hope they wouldn’t mind showing me around,” I say, my eyes scanning the hallway. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the palace. It all looked so ordinary compared to where we were a couple of seconds ago. It still matched some of the accents of the hallway we came from, but it looked more normal, like a nice hotel hallway. I turn my attention back to Jackson. “How long have you been working there again?”
“Four years. Started working after I graduated from high school.” Jackson answers me right before we reach the end of the hallway and Jackson opens another door for us, one that lead directly to what seemed to be the garage.
“Guess you’ve become quite the regular there, huh?” I smile to him as I let him guide me, turning to the garage. Wow.
It was like seeing the parking lot of some debutante’s 18th birthday and all her crazy rich relatives were attending. Was that an Audi I saw? Plenty of nice cars lined up, a motorcycle at the end of the line. It was funny how the luxury of living in the palace still amazed me.
“I lucked out in that area. They’re good people too. You’ll like them.” Jackson leads me to where I assume he parked his car. I smile at the sight of him opening the passenger’s door of an ordinary-looking silver sedan. It reminded me of the one we had back home.
“The real question is: will they like me?” I joke before a grateful smile for his gesture, going inside—feeling my head bump against the frame in process. I let out an ow, before letting myself mumble that I was okay.
“Oo.” I see him grimacing, “Sorry, it’s a bit low. Sure you’re alright.”
“Yeah, totally fine.” I give him a quick thumbs up from the inside of his car, laughing to myself at how silly I am. “I’m just prone to accidentally hitting my head in cars.”
“I’ve been prone to much worse.” He flashes a crooked smile as he shuts my door. I laugh as I watch him head to the driver’s side, climb in and buckle up in a steady pace, setting his phone in the cup holder. I remember to buckle up too.
He starts his car, then holds out a cable out to me, “Do you… want to play your music?”
I look at the AUX cord he’s offering, and I offer him a polite smile.
“You don’t want to know the kind of music I like listening to.” I curl my lips in, trying to suppress the awkward smile creeping up my face.
Jackson raises both of his brows, with a chuckle. “You seem awfully sure about that.”
“You’re the first person to offer me the A-U-X cord in the longest time.” I shake my head, though maintaining a smile. “I think that says a lot already.”
Means my friends hate my taste in music, or are just really tired of hearing Show Tunes.
He shakes the cable a bit. With a small smile he says, “The offer is still out there for a few more seconds.”
His friendly smile was enough to convince me. I suppose I can’t quite say no to a friendly gesture like that, especially with someone already doing me a favor.
I let out a light laugh as I take the cord from him and slip my phone out of my dress’ pockets. “Please don’t make fun of me for this.” I give him a word of caution as I hook it up and tap over to my Dotify, picking the first song off of my morning playlist.
I glance up to Jackson, hoping he wasn’t going to groan at my choice.
RENT – RENT Live Cast.
https://open.spotify.com/track/5ZFx5WIlDGbx2rJ2XZ9dQa?si=ChVHl9ljRUGj-Mi2-In8yw (yes the one Jordan Fisher was in)
The music suddenly fills the car with the loud percussion and electrifying guitar rifts of the show’s opening number, and I look over to Jackson gauging his expression while he starts reversing out of the garage and onto a driveway that probably would lead us out of the palace.
His smile grows the music plays, and I’m slightly relieved that he doesn’t seem to hate what I picked. Relieved enough to let myself take in the view of the coast to our right. I never noticed that the road followed the coastline when I first came here.
There was so much blue, as far as the eye could see. It was a view you could see from the terrace of my room, but seeing it move pass you while you were in a car… it was definitely something else on its own.
“This is Rent, right?” Jackson’s voice steals my attention back, and I find myself nodding enthusiastically.
“Yes! It’s,” my eyes glance down to my phone on my lap, “one of my favorite musicals.”
Probably my third favorite musical, right before Dear Evan Hansen and Waitress.
“I’m a Mamma Mia fan myself.” He half jokes in my direction, though his driving still impeccably smooth.
“Really? You strike me as more of a Hamilton fan.” I return the joke with a teasing look his direction, letting myself lean back and watch us drive more into a small winded hilly area.
((get it,,, cause Jordan Fisher played Philipp/Laurens in Hamilton BJSNKD))
“Hamilton’s definitely a close second.” His smile seems to widen at that, and I notice the car finally reaching a highway. That was fast. The car turns right and I find our car starting to merge with a dozen other cars on the highway. “But musicals are more my second choice of music anyhow.”
I turn to him curiously at that, “So what /is/ your first choice in music, Mister Graham?”
Another RENT song is starting to play, and I turn the volume down while we talk, wanting to hear him clearly.
“More singer/songwriter material. Or the classics. Songs I can learn to play myself.” He glances to me, most of his attention on the road while our car started to merge with more traffic on the freeway.
“Oh,” I reply, not having quite pegged Jackson to be a musician too. A veterinarian/ animal shelter volunteer, and now: a musician. He was full of surprises, huh.“What instruments do you play?”
Jackson’s eyes still stay trained on the road. “Piano and guitar. My mother was a musician and I was the kid that managed to get it to stick.” He says, a half smile on his face.
I keep my head still turned his way, finding myself smiling at his reply. “Did she teach you how to play?”
He nods twice. “In the beginning yes. I progressed by myself throughout the years.” He answers before glancing over to me, “Do you play any instruments?”
I wish.
“Nope, I didn’t have anyone to teach me back in Orleans. No one in my family was interested enough in music for me to pick it up…” I answer, shaking my head with a light laugh. Just one of those things I wished I had picked up when I was younger, instead I had dance classes and competitions, kid pageants, and the occasional tag-along to a wedding.
Still, music was something that I wish I could have picked up if I had someone to teach me since the neighborhood I grew up was filled with little house parties where people would invite each other to listen to a mini concert. I only had a wedding planner, a former seamstress turned wedding planner, and a baker at home with me in the family.
I laugh at that idea before adding a question for Jackson.
“So is your dad a veterinarian?” It would make sense if Jackson picked up his love of music from his mom and his love for animals from his dad.
“Lawyer, actually. We all went down different routes.” He answers, an amused lilt in his voice. So that makes his mom a musician, his dad a lawyer, his sister was an interior designer if I remember correctly, and Jackson: an aspiring veterinarian. Those were all very different routes indeed.
“Guess catching up with each other during family dinners would never be dull what with everyone doing their own thing.” I remark, imagining what conversations they’d have—definitely different from my own family’s, where Grammy, Mama, and I would be talking about the same things happening at DDW HQ. Not much variety, really.
“Absolutely never.” A short laugh escapes him, “Especially when I used to bring in little animals and hide them in my room as a kid.”
I cover my mouth, trying to stop myself from laughing too much at that mental image.
“Are you serious?” A snicker escapes me, feeling only more laughter bubble up from my stomach to my chest. “You’d try to hide little animals?”
He seems bashful about that admission, “It didn’t work out very well. Animals make noise and I didn’t know how to hide them without being noticed.”
“I’m still trying to imagine it,” A fit of laughter takes over me as I sit up straight in my seat and close my eyes to picture it even more clearly.
The mental image of a younger, much smaller version of Jackson hiding a baby bird in his jacket pops into my head. The bird making way too much noise as he creeps up the stairs, Jackson trying to go unnoticed.
“You… probably trying to hide a little critter in your jacket.” I say with my eyes still closed, feeling myself smile at that image. I let out another laugh before opening my eyes to catch Jackson looking over to me. “It’s a no brainer you eventually grew up to become a vet.”
Jackson’s attention seems to linger in my direction half a second longer than he should take his eyes off the road before he turns forward again. I should probably stop trying to distract him from driving.
“I ruined plenty of clothes that way, actually.”
“A minor trade off.” I tuck some of my hair behind my ears, having been messed up while I was laughing probably too hard a while ago. “As long as you don’t hide animals in your jacket anymore.” I eye him suspiciously, obviously just joking.
His smile seems to grow, “Can’t show you all my tricks off the bat, now can I?”
“Guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for you in a jacket from now on.” I maintain my suspicious gaze over to him, trying to stay serious for a few seconds… and failing at that when another bubble of snickers escapes me.
“Not afraid of spiders are you?” He pats his pocket, sounding like he was just teasing.
But I could never really be sure if he was…
“You’re not serious…” I look over to his pocket for a second, before my hands instinctively go up and I move away to the edge of my seat close to the window.
Jackson laughs before putting his hand back on the wheel. “No, sorry, bad joke. I’m spider free for now.”
“Okay, great.” I relax before falling back against my seat and let myself laugh it off. “The last time I saw a spider, I shrieked.”
“Fairly standard reaction.” He sounds amused, “Although as a veterinarian, I have to care for and love all creatures.”
“Ehhhh, the shrieking was partially because of the location too.” I chuckle thinking back, shifting to make myself more comfortable in my seat. “Do veterinarians have one of those ‘do no harm’ creeds like doctors do?”
He hums, “You know I think they do. Seems like a necessary standard.”
It does sound like one.
“Where were you that a location made you shriek more than a spider?”
“You’re not gonna believe it but I…” A flashback of me accidentally falling through a bookcase’s earlier during the Selection. Remembering it all, it seemed more funny than scary, so funny that a laugh of disbelief escapes me. “I fell through a secret hallway back in the palace and I didn’t know how to get out.”
Jackson seems bewildered to hear this, “How’d you manage to do that?”
“Alright so,” I toss some of my hair back and get ready to share the experience.
“I chose this one,” I hold a finger up, wanting to tell this story as animatedly as I can right now, “book on embroidery and I'm reaching for it and leaning against the shelf because it was pretty high up. Then, suddenly the shelf I was leaning against moved and I fell through it into this dark and dusty hallway, obviously home to a couple of spiders and a colony of dust bunnies.”
A short laugh comes from Jackson. “Those secret passageways will really throw you for a loop if you’re not careful. You survived intact, I’m assuming?”
“Intact but in a great need of a shower and change of outfit.” I laugh it off, jokingly squirming at the memory of the gross feeling of all that dust sticking onto me. “Arin was the one… who,” I pause, sometimes talking about Arin was more difficult than initially talking to him. “…got me out of there.”
The smile on Jackson’s face seems to falter after I bring up Arin. “Ah. That was… lucky then.” He pauses for a considerable time before asking, “How’ve you been? After everything.”
I try to find the right words to say.
I clear my throat once I think I’ve figured what was the right thing to say.
“Ah, well, definitely less crying.” My left hand seems to fidget with my ring on my right. “We went out on another…date…? I mean if that’s what you can really call it.” I try to laugh.
“Oh? How did that go?” Jackson’s voice sounds hopeful.
It was sort of an apology date in a way, about the last time. But doing things with Arin, well- they didn’t really feel like dates. Maybe I just… need time to get to know him better.
“Oh…” I look to him, hoping that none of my overthinking about it would show up on my face. “He taught me how to swim. I never really knew how to but I guess I can float and tread water like a normal person now.”
It was very kind of Arin to try and help me with that. Safety first.
“Despite anything else, I think you could call that a personal win.”
“I think so too. Anything next to normal is a win compared to last time.” I try to laugh again, this time wishing it would help with my nerves. A thought crosses my mind. The last time Jackson and I saw each other in person, I was crying over my disastrous first date with Arin. Did I ever thank Jackson for being there? Hmmm… I should probably thank him again just in case.
“Listen… thank you again for that night. I know I’ve thanked you before but—” I turn to smile in his direction, truly grateful for having him there. “it meant the world to have someone to talk to.”
Jackson seems to sit up a tad straighter, his attention going from the road to me. He nods once, “I um—well, I offer that as long as you’d like. Friendship I mean.”
He turns his attention forward to the road again, a small smile on his face.
The words Jackson and friendship seems to just make sense. I mean, being friends with the girls was amazing—especially with having girls like Itzel to talk to, but the idea of being friends with someone outside of the Selection was more than easy to agree to.
“Having a friend around is something I’d like very much.” I smile over to him. “You’re the nicest person I’ve met since I got here.”
It was usually very rare to find the sort of genuine kindness Jackson had these days.
Jackson’s expression seems to become more bashful, “I’ve seen what this royal life can be like when you meet new people. I just… I’m glad I can provide some more normalcy for you.”
“Getting thrown into the royal life can really change a part of you.” A small laugh of agreement escapes me. “It’s good… to have people around to keep your feet on the ground. Maybe that’s why y’all seem to be a close bunch… I mean… your family and Uh… the Schreaves.”
“I don’t know.” Jackson seems to focus more on the road, switching lanes as I see an exit close by. “By now the familiarity has sort of blurred any kind of jarring reality checks.” he chuckles softly.
“I guess the jarring reality check can come along whenever you get out of the palace.” I laugh, looking out to my window. “This still looks so… different compared to what I’ve been seeing for the past two months.”
It was nice to see the city like this instead of just seeing the skyline from the palace rooftop. Angeles was so different compared to Orleans. Even their residential areas looked different compared to what I usually saw back home.
“Compared to the glittering walls and dresses?” Jackson asks in a teasing way.
“Definitely different. I can do away with the glittering walls.” I think, not being too in love with the idea with living in a place as big as the palace. “You can get so scared to walk around in those hallways since every single decoration looks like they’ll cause you an arm and a leg if you break ‘em. But the dresses?” I hum, smoothing the skirt of my yellow mini dress. “I can get use to this.
Not gonna lie, I loved my dresses in the palace the most among the Selected perks.
“They’re quite pretty.” Jackson says so as our car exits off the freeway. I feel myself smile at that comment, not sure why my face feels warm every time I hear something along the lines of that.
Jackson stops at a red light, waiting if he can make a turn and doing so when the light turns green. I haven’t really noticed it but my playlist was playing another song from a musical, You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen, the song softly playing in the background while we drive. I hum along with it as we drive. In the area that we are going through, it looks like a shopping center was nearby. It was bigger than most malls I’ve usually frequented in Orleans.
Oh gosh, I missed going to malls.
Unfortunately, Jackson drives past it, telling me that it’s not much longer until we reach the shelter.
Maybe another time.
“Anything I should know about the shelter before we get there?” I ask, looking over to him.
A knowing smile tugs at his lips, “I hope you won’t mind getting fur all over that dress.”
I chuckle at his advice, scrunching up my nose with a light nah.
We stop at a nearby intersection, and Jackson makes a right where the shops grow further and further apart the more we went down the road. In fact, there were more trees now. Before I really knew it, Jackson makes a left into a parking lot. Taking in the shelter from my window. It was quite big actually, bigger than I imagined it initially. A light blue sign with a paw print with the name:
Angeles Friends for Life Animal Rescue.
I push my hair out of my face when the car comes to a stop at a spot close to the front of the shelter. My hand finds the release button of my seat belt as I say, “Looks like you guys have a fine operation out here.”
A fine operation seemed like an understatement.
He hums pleasantly at that, “We’re lucky to have wonderful management.”
Jackson looks at me, “Ready to meet everyone?”
I unplug my phone from the AUX cord and hold it in my left hand, before looking back to Jackson with a smile.
“I’m always ready.”
Jackson seems like the sound of that answer, unbuckling himself from his seatbelt. E nods and gets out of the car and waits for me to follow. Once I’m at his side, he leads the way into the building’s main entrance into a lobby area. It was as welcoming as the shelter did look on the outside. There was a blue theme going around the room, matching the sign outside. On the walls of the lobby were pictures of what I assumed to be of owners with pets who I assume were adopted from this shelter. My eyes go back and forth between that wall and the huge fish tank behind to be what seemed to be the front desk.
As Jackson leads me to it, a head pops up from below the desk, one belonging to a young man our age. I almost jump at that.
His dark hair looked like it needed a comb.
He smirks at Jackson, then his eyes shift to me, his expression shifting into a beaming smile. He stands, looking tall, lean, and well— handsome, but not quite my type.
“Jackson, my wonderful friend, now who would this be?”
My eyes go to look at Jackson, letting him reply first and I’m careful to not talk over them.
Jackson’s brows raise at that question. “Wonderful friend. Milking it, aren’t you?”
The young man clear his throat, “Come on now, I’d hate to be rude to your friend here. She’s—” he blinks and slowly points a finger between Jackson and I. “How.. what?”
Oh he must have…. Right.
I was kind of famous now, famous by association, I suppose.
The conversation seems to go silent, so I take it as my opportunity to segue and step into the conversation. I’m mindful to make my tone friendly, trying to make sure that this isn’t awkward in the very least.
“Hi there! I’m Missy Duthé.” I extend my right hand out to him over the desk. “I’m interested in workin’ with the shelter for a certain project!”
He shakes my hand, his face still looking dazed. “Missy. It’s… wow. Great to meet you.” His smile seems kinder, but still looking slightly stunned. “I’m Merrick.”
“It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance Merrick.” I maintain my smile before taking my hand back.
“I’m going to give her a full tour. Is Julianna swamped today?” Jackson asks, and my brows raise at that.
“No no, slow afternoon. There’s a couple looking at the dogs but other than that the place is yours.” Merrick says, his eyes shifting to me, still looking surprised.
I still don’t quite understand the weird fame that being Selected afforded me, but what I do know is that people shouldn’t really be treating me any differently. I try my best to exude a calm energy to put Merrick at ease that I was normal as any Illéan girl could be.
“I was just telling Jackson how you guys have such a fine operation over here.”
“That’s kind of you.” Merrick chuckles. “It’s been years in the making. Family business.”
Jackson gestures to Merrick, “Julianna’s his mom.”
So Miss Julianna, Merrick’s mom, must be the head. I take note of that. I also take note that the shelter is actually a family business, adds to its charm in fact.
“The one and very scary only.” Merrick gives a small glance to the next door, probably scared that Julianna was going to come out.
A chuckle escapes Jackson, “Careful or I might tell her you said that.”
I make sure to nod along their conversation, “So… I suppose Miss Julianna’s the one I’m supposed to talk to about my project?”
“Her or Jackson. He knows how to run the place better than I do and I grew up here.”
Her or Jackson. I smirk over to Jackson at that.
Jackson smiles at the ground before looking to me. “Yes, she is. She can answer anything I can’t.”
I push some of my hair back, still keeping my attention on Jackson. “Well, I didn’t know what my friend was so influential over here.”
“It’s the animals. They outvoted me.” Merrick says, I catch him half-smirking over to us.
Jackson rolls his eyes and mumbles. “Sure, alright.” He clears his throat before turning to me, “We can head back now.”
“I’m sure we can trust the critters’ judgment.” I giggle before nodding to Jackson, feeling my smile grow. “Where to Mister Jackson Graham?”
“We can start with the cat room, then work our way around the building.” Jackson says, and I follow him as he leads the way, clasping my hands in front of me.
“See you later.” He calls back to Merrick.
I hear a beep from the door and see Merrick wave over to us. “Have fun!”
“Nice meetin’ you!” I say turning to Merrick’s direction for a quick second, then turning my full attention to Jackson. “How many rooms are we talkin’ about?”
“We have four.” Jackson’s voice seems to almost be accompanied by the sounds of the barks and scurrying on the ground from the rooms around us. “Two dog rooms and two cat. One’s for the older animals and the other for the younger ones, but there’s a room in between where they can play with another. Outside for the dogs well.” He gestures around the hallway as we walk together.
There’s more pictures of animals on the walls actually, like in the lobby. More stories of adoption. I try to remember the info Jackson is telling me, trying my best to make notes. I find myself getting more distracted by the pictures in the hallway. One of the pictures almost makes me stop for half a second.
A boy my age, with blue eyes hugging a Siberian husky with eyes like his.
He reminded me of Daniel and Jewel.
I wonder if Daniel took Jewel with him to Waverly.
I shouldn’t think about this anymore, letting myself continue walking with Jackson.
“So you guys mostly accept cats and dogs ‘round here?” I ask, trying to push those other thoughts away.
Jackson hums a yes. “We’d like to have more animals, but we’d need a bigger facility. That’s Julianna’s dream.” A small smile appears on his face.
We seem to approach a door with a small window that Jackson peeks inside with.
“Looks like they just finished up their lunch.” Jackson says as I try to peek through the window too, not catching a glimpse as Jackson opens the door for us. I feel myself bouncing on my heels at the sound of all the scampering inside.
The door reveals a small area with a half wall that reached my hips, dividing the room between the small area and a much larger area. We walk over to peek over the wall to see a couple of staff members in the area, more than a dozen of little kittens playing with a few bigger cats, toys scattered around the area.
If there was one thing that could make my heart melt other than weddings, it was a room full of tiny little kittens. I look over the half wall, my eyes shifting from one cat to another cat.
Oh my gosh, there was a kitten rolling a little ball around. Oh my gosh, there were a pair wrestling with each other. I feel my smile only growing as I watch them play with each other.
A thought crosses my mind.
I turn to Jackson, a little shy to ask this.
“Can I pet some of them?”
Jackson smiles back at me. “Absolutely.”
YAY.
He opens a lower door attached to the half wall, telling the other employees that we were coming in. He leads me over to a sink close to the wall, where we wash our hands before we get to hold the cats. I let Jackson go first and follow right after he finishes.
Once we finished washing our hands, Jackson goes over and kneels with two employees and chats with them. I stand close to one of the walls, trying to go unnoticed, letting myself watch Jackson talk from afar.
This was Jackson’s element. It was actually really nice to see him in it. I don’t think there wasn’t a better job for someone as kind as he was.
After a few moments, he picks up a kitten with a grin and brings her over to me. I make sure to receive her and hold her tenderly in my hands, making sure to be gentle as I held her up. My cheeks are already starting to hurt from how much I was already smiling.
“Hewoooo, what’s your name sweetie?” I ask the kitten, before looking up to Jackson and mouthing how can they be this cute?
Jackson seems to laugh at that, “That one’s Ginger.” A couple of kittens purr around Jackson’s feet and he seems to pick one up, pressing a kiss to its head.
“Ginger! Ain’t that a darlin’ name!” My smile can only grow from here, while the kitten seems to purr as I hold her close to my chest and smiling over to Jackson and the kitten he picks up. She was a pretty kitten, with pure white fur. “Jackson, what’s the name of your friend over there?”
“This here is Lucinda. She has quite the spirit.” As if to prove his point, Lucinda opens her mouth to lightly nip at Jackson’s finger.
“Hello Lucinda!” I giggle, smiling down at Ginger trying to move as I held her, making sure to give her feet some needed support. It takes me a moment to remember my purpose for coming here to the shelter. Gotta balance this play with some more work. My hand starts to stroke Ginger’s head.
“So uh… all of these kittens are rescues?”
Jackson nods. “Some have been dropped off by people who can’t find homes for them, others have been found. They usually don’t last very long as people like to adopt younger animals.” My brows raise at that statement, then Jackson gestures to Ginger, “She’s getting picked up tomorrow by a nice family.”
My hand is lightly stroking Ginger as Jackson speaks, and I smile down at Ginger.
“Isn’t that exciting Ginger? You get to have a new family!” I scrunch up my nose when my smile grows, before I look back up at Jackson—still concerned with what Jackson said. “I take it that the next room of cats has a larger population then?”
Jackson bobs his head, “Not much, thankfully. Lately there’s been an uptick in older cat adoptions, to our pleasure.”
His smile at that is different than his usual smile, happier if that was even possible for Jackson.
I like it when he smiles like that, it made his handsome face light up even more. I think I was looking at him without saying anything way longer than I should.. I try to think of something to say. Staring was rude, now just say something. Quick.
“That sounds good!” I smile down onto Ginger, and she looked like she wanted to head over to the other cats. I then place a quick kiss on her head before I set her on the ground watching her scurry to the other kittens.
“Would you like to go see the older cat room? It’s about the same layout, but I don’t mind giving you a peek.”
“Of course!” I stand up and dust some of the fur Ginger had left on my dress. “I wanna see the whole place!” I think I sounded way too excited, laughing to myself to get a hold of myself. “I just... I wanna know what I’m writing about... who I’m writing about better.”
Jackson seems to let my words sink in and his smile changes from that bright smile to something softer, still a nice smile.
“I understand. I’m… I’m glad.” He says and I wait for him to say something else as his gaze seems to linger on me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he guides the two of us out and into the next room.
((One of the things that I can’t add because MISSY IS A DUMB BITCH: The two of them not noticing the employees in the area looking at the two of them like 👀 as they leave))
We spend about an hour going through the other three rooms, mostly me just playing with all the critters and giving them the attention they deserved.
Jackson and I walk down a long corridor, feeling myself smiling as we exit the older dog area.
“I don’t understand how not a lot of people would want to adopt the older dogs!” I laugh, thinking that room probably was my favorite. “Oh Daisy almost tackled me, but gosh! She was so sweet!”
“She really was.” He smiles, “Puppies tend to be popular in this area. Lots of families. We take care of the ones that aren’t adopted anyhow.” He says fondly before his eyes glances to my dress. “You really don’t mind all that?”
I look down and notice the tons of fur sticking to my yellow dress and shake my head as I try to dust myself off.
“Nothing a lint roller couldn’t fix.” I chuckle before running a hand through my hair and noting some pet hair flying away. “Besides, I can’t exactly do the work right without getting a little messy with the critters.”
He nods, “You um..” he gestures to my hair, “have a little clump caught there.”
“Oh?” I turn to Jackson fully, trying to shake it out and comb it out. “Did I get it off?”
Jackson bites his lip and shakes his head with a small smile. He reaches over to me and I stand still, keeping my eyes on him as I feel his hand tug the fur and flick it away. He smiles to me after he does and I can’t help but smile back.
“Thank you very much Mister Jackson Graham.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch some fur sticking to his shirt, on his shoulder to be more specific.
I decide to return the favor, simply brushing it off his shoulder before we start walking again.
“Now where are we headed next?”
Jackson clears his throat, “Well, I was going to take you to Julianna if that’s alright. I figured you might have some more questions.”
“It’s more than alright!” I look over to him as we walk, “There’s the background on the shelter, current problems y’all are facing, current numbers on a lot of things going around here. Of course there’s a lot of things to ask permission about too! I wanna make sure I can let the proposal really help around here... for real.”
“Really?” Jackson asks, looking surprised.
“If there’s one thing I know how to do right, it’s executing a plan.” I smirk to him, though believing with my entire heart that my plan should really be executed. “What’s the point of planning something if you don’t see it through?”
What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on executing it?
What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on marrying the girl? Whoops.
I push that thought away again.
Jackson’s voice helps with that.
“Yeah. You’re right.” He looks, well—it looks more like a stare now, seems hopeful. I hope I could really help with what he’s told me about with this proposal. He seems to really listen to my words, and it’s a comfort to know that he is.
I try to mirror his expression, happy to have Jackson’s attention. “Ya know, there’s more to here,” I tap my temple. “than knowing how to plan weddings and parties.” I chuckle lightheartedly as we reach a door and stop by it.
“Is this Julianna’s office?”
Jackson nods.
“It is.” He pauses, looking like he’s about to knock at the door, but instead he turns to face me.
“I’ve always thought you’re more than planning weddings and parties, Missy. Thought you should know.”
I blink a couple of times, feeling my face warm. Well, not just my face. Everything felt warm as his words echo in my head. I don’t think he knew what those words meant to me. I’m thankful that Jackson had turned his attention away as he knocks on the door. I try to get a hold on myself.
Julianna calls out at Jackson’s knock and he enters first before I do, the two of them sharing a friendly greeting before Julianna looks over to me. Jackson then introduces me to Julianna.
I snap myself out and hope that the warmth I felt on my face didn’t show in a blush.
I move forward and extend my hand out to Julianna.
“Hi! Um, I’m Missy.” I wince, knowing that Jackson has already said my name but I try to remain calm. “I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”
Julianna seems quite friendly as she shakes my hand from where she’s standing in front of her desk.
“Not at all. What can I do you for today?”
“Well, Miss Julianna, I’m currently working on a community engagement proposal—it's uh, a project for every Selected girl, you see-- and I was thinking of partnering up with this very shelter to be ground zero for operations.”
I look over to Jackson, silently hoping for him to tell me how I was doing. I don’t know why I’m suddenly tripping over my words.
Jackson nods once in my direction, an encouraging look on his face. I could hear him say you’re doing great with the way his eyes looked at me.
Julianna’s brows raise as she asks, “Really? What would your project entail?”
His reassurance seems to help me try to ground myself and focus on communicating this better, standing up a little straighter as I smile over to Julianna.
“I’m glad you asked.”
I take my phone out of my dress’ pocket and go through my Joogle Drive to open up the presentation deck I prepared, waiting for it to load.
“I call it Operation: Empawthy. It’s a training program for shelter animals to become therapy animals for local hospitals and community centers.” I explain as I hold my phone out for Jackson and Julianna to see. The little logo and everything I made popping up on screen, a little paw with the project title surrounding it in a circle.
“It’s been brought to my attention that... a lot of older animals that call the shelter home, and I was hoping of helping them find a purpose... beyond just waiting for adoption.”
Both Jackson and Julianna lean in to look at the presentation I made. I try to gauge their reactions. Jackson’s face seems to light up as I go through the initial slides.
Julianna seems to instantly smile, asking, “And you’d like to follow through with this? Long term?”
“Of course!” I smile at that question, excited about my plan of execution for this program. “Most of the operations and plan can be executed within the next few months.” I tap the screen and move onto my timeline slide.
I continue, “It could be executed I already have a nearby local oncology center and a social center who are willing to partner too, and well—” My brows furrow at the next thing I say, “even if I'm no longer a Selected, it's still possible to execute, even without mobilization from the Schreaves.”
Even if I did get eliminated, at least one good thing would come from me being a Selected.
Julianna moves to walk around her desk over to where I am, and I’m surprise to feel her wrap her arms around me in a meaningful hug. I glance over to Jackson while she does, catching an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“You’re the answer to so many of my questions on how to provide for these dogs.” Julianna leans back with her hands on my shoulders, smiling. “We’d be incredibly happy to have you with us.”
I smile back at Julianna, taking both of her hands in mine.
“I'll send you the primers and plans I currently have. I'm more than happy to help in every way I can!”
Julianna’s reaction seems to give me a whole new understanding for generosity and kindness. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I got to plan something meaningful and grounded in something beyond weddings or parties.
I wasn’t going to lie, it felt freaking good.
“You’ll have to thank Jackson too for bringing me all the way here though.” I turn to Jackson as I say that. I definitely wouldn’t have thought of this fully without remembering what he had said to me.
Julianna waves a hand, “Jackson has my eternal thanks. Bringing you here only goes to show his incredible judgement.”
Jackson looks down with a smile at Julianna’s compliment, before looking back up at Julianna with amusement.
“Kiss up.” He says.
She reaches out and gives Jackson a side hug across his shoulders. “And not ashamed of it.”
I don’t get why Merrick would ever call her scary.
I can’t help but laugh at the banter between them, tucking my hair behind both of my ears.
“Incredible judgment indeed!” I nod a couple of times, clasping my hands in front of me. “Thank you for letting me loop the shelter into this. I promise you both this project isn't gonna disappoint. That's a Duthé promise.”
“I have a feeling that’s a promise never broken.” Jackson says softly, his smile very soft.
Julianna seems to pause briefly at that, her smile not faltering.
“Once we receive all your information, I’ll keep close touch with you. Everyone will be so thrilled.”
I turn to Jackson, looking to him with an amused expression.
“You’re right, it’s never broken.” I punctuate that with a wink to him before I nod over to Julianna and quickly slip my calling card out of my phone’s card holder.
I always kept copies of it in case I met a potential wedding client but, it would work for now what with all my contact details on it. Let’s hope Julianna would just ignore all the wedding planner details on it.
“This is my card, I'll be probably contacting you through the email and number here. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know. We'll definitely keep in touch.”
Julianna takes the card from me and sets it on her desk with a thank you, then mentions to us that she needed to get back to work and Jackson excuses us. He mentions that he’ll be back in the evening as we leave her office before Jackson leads me back into the hallway. I don’t forget to say a quick thank you before we leave.
“That was… wow.” He says once we’re outside of Julianna’s office. I try to eye Jackson’s reaction before I let myself smile and do a little happy dance, unable to control how happy I felt.
“OH MY GOSH!” my voice seems to go up another octave before I reach over and give Jackson a hug. “Thank you so so much for bringing me here and helping me make this happen!”
Jackson seems to laugh as he catches me, and I feel his hand going to my back.
“You were the one with the incredible ideas. It was wonderful, Missy.”
((Another thing I can’t write BUT I SCREECHED: */like you/* he thinks))
I pull away from him, still grinning but feeling a little shy with Jackson’s compliment. My face starts to feel warm again. I try to ignore it this time. I’m probably just too happy with getting the shelter as a partner.
“I’m so happy that you think so. I just thought—” My phone suddenly starts to ring, an alarm going off as I quickly reach into my pocket to snooze it.
5:30. Prepare for Dinner. I see on the screen.
Jackson still watches me as I handle it, “Everything alright?”
I stuff my phone back into my dress’ pocket and nodding, not letting the alarm dampen the mood.
“Yeah! I just... have alarms for whenever I probably should change or get ready for dinner at the palace.” I explain with a little laugh. “As I was saying, uh...” I’m trying to remember what I was going to say a few seconds ago, but I’ve completely lost my train of thought.
“Okay honestly, thank you for the moral support.” I decide to thank Jackson again for being there, then I lower my voice jokingly, “Julianna... kinda did scare me.”
Hmmm, maybe that’s why I was stumbling over my words initially.
Jackson chuckles at that, “She’s a bit intimidating at first, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. She loved you.” I laugh lightly and try to shrug it off.
Then he gestures to the phone in my pocket.
“I guess I should um, be getting you back now?”
I nod slowly, feeling a little sad that I was already leaving the shelter. I think I’ve enjoyed myself here way more than I expected.
“Are you sure it’s too much to ask from you?” I wanted to make sure that he was alright with it, knowing that he was going to come back here anyway. He’s already done so much for me already.
He tilts his head. “Driving you to the palace? No, of course not.” A growing smile appears on his face.
“I’d love to.”
His smile seems to put me at ease, so I loop my arm around his and smile to him.
“Then I guess we better get going, Mister Jackson Graham.”
Jackson doesn’t say anything, only keeping his smile to me and leading the way back.
#missy duthe#missy fics#((missy and jackson are just trying to outsimp each other ngl))#((THEY'RE SIMPS BUT WITH RIGHTS))#~jackson tag#selectionoc
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Challenge #1
Alternately Titled: To be a Princess
I actually don’t have wifi right now, but hopefully data can come through for now. I’l probably reupload this with the gdoc format soon hehe
I actually wanted to post Missy’s RP with Jackson which happens the night before all of this, but I’m not too happy with it right now so SJKNJKDNDK yeah here is the reaction fic for now + the first meeting RP,,, cause it’s technically late... I’M SORRY BSDJKDNKJD
Mentions of @safiya-schreave and @felicity-graham HAHAHAHA and features the first meeting with @arin-schreave hehe, thank you guys for some spicy material to work with <3 (2341 words,,, I think)
When I was a little girl, I learned that to be a princess was to have a thousand pairs of shoes. Shoulders back and tummy in, lift the chin and slowly turn your head from side to side.
I would personally like to thank Barbie for being the role model I didn’t think I’d need on a day like today.
Sure, Barbie had Julian, (The superior Ken from a Barbie movie if you asked me), but today, we had a real life princess give us a crash course on… royal life amongst us. It was like Barbie: Princess and the Popstar more than the Princess and the Pauper really. She walked in, and well, it felt like the chatter in the room quieted down once she came in. Princess Safiya.
She seemed nice when she came in, clipboard an all—ah well doesn’t that sight remind me of days I’d be instructing relatives around a rehearsal dinner. She begins to read from a script attached to the clipboard.
“I hope you all had a restful first night in the palace because now our work begins. Today I will begin to instruct you on conduct and protocol, a process that will continue for the duration of your stay. Please know that I will be reporting any missteps on your part to the royal family.” An amused expression ghosts her features before she continues. “I know it sounds harsh, but this isn’t a game to be taken lightly. Someone in this room will be the next princess of Illéa. It is no small task. You must endeavor to elevate yourselves, no matter your previous station. You will become ladies from the ground up. And this very morning, you will receive your first lesson.”
Hm… fair. I nod from my spot in the room, ready as ever to learn. I mean, how hard could it be? The sound of the door opening catches my attention, was another girl late?
Oh… OH.
Well I’ll be damned, that was Felicity Graham.
I thought she was taller.
I focus my attention back to what the princess was saying, only seeing Felicity move through the corner of my eyes until she came right back into my line of sight when she walks over to where Safiya stood, the two seemingly having a hushed conversation the no one probably an ear away could hear. I lift a shoulder up, busying myself and turning my attention to around the room. Guess they needed their privacy.
The set up was simple around here, simple at a glance but most probably high quality and very expensive. The room was mostly decorated like it was straight out of a home décor issue on an old money family. The elongated room was complemented with high-rise curtains tied with golden chords, tables were laid with cloths that were definitely a multi-count. There were centerpiece bouquets at the center of every table: dahlias and veronicas, if I wasn’t mistaken, the accent cloths were pinned to the sides with a lighter tulle? No, more of a sheath with gold weaved into it.
A few months, I decorated a wedding in a location similar to this, a sort of hall in an old building back in Orleans for the governor’s daughter. Except, maybe this has twice the budget…. Or maybe five times the budget. I wonder what was happening with the princess right now?
Oh they’re still talking. Why does the princess give Felicity a look? You know, one of those scary looking faces you shoot at a girl when you both see the same dress on sale and it’s the last one in-stock.
I try to wrack my brain up for anything I knew about them, figuring out why Felicity would be here. Those two were best friends, I know, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in the same room with the girl(s) my ex was replacing me with. Well, ya know, that’s just me. I just needed a refresher on which glass was for water and which one for juice.
“My sister sent someone to replace her. Lucky for us.”
The princess doesn’t seem too happy. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like for your best friend to be your brother’s ex-fiancée. That whole… situation was a big question for the entire country. My circles of other wedding planners whispered reasons why it was called off. Interesting allegations really. Oh their poor wedding planners, they better had a cancellation clause.
“Table manners are very important, and before you can eat in front of the royal family, you must be aware of certain etiquette. The faster we get through this little lesson, the sooner you get to have your breakfasts, so faces forward, please.”
The princess continues onto basic table manners, easy things that my Grammy used to grill me for back when I was little girl. Then again, there was a time when she used to be a Debutante ‘round Midston and her habits never left her.
“If you follow this one, I’ll be disappointed.” Oh so I guess we were allowed to speak with our inside voices. That’s… convenient. I nod along, hearing a snort from Felicity. The princess makes a face before continuing.
“She wanted me to make a final addition about how to address me and the rest of my family.” I should be paying attention to this one. The whole addressing royalty was definitely a new thing to me. The princess proceeds to explain who we call what, all the formalities and whatnot before we’re asked to stand and start with a crash course on curtsies.
“Now, I suppose you’ll be practicing your curtsies. I’ll be walking around if you have any questions. Or to critique.”
A good piece advice my mama gave me rings in my head, Imagine that a string is attached to the top of your head and pulling ya up. Maybe it’ll help me right now. It was something she always told brides during wedding rehearsals so they looked like they just glided down the aisle. I straighten up, imagining a string on the top of my head.
“and don’t forget I’m here to help you.” I hear Felicity say.
Wow, was she really?
let’s just insert a timeskip here
It took a bit of a while before it was my turn to meet the prince. Not too long, but I suppose the buffet breakfast was a nice consolation. It was lovely that there were some vegan options. I was careful not to eat anything that could have stained the lovely lilac dress that took me literally forever to pick last night.
I was led outside of the room right after I finished some sliced fruits, careful that my lipstick wasn’t ruined from the meal. Someone opened the door for me as I was led into the room.
Alrighty, here we go, Missy. It’s just like meeting a new client. Winning smile, spring in your step, genuine interest. You practiced a couple of questions with yourself last night. It’s just a boy. It’s just a boy. You could do this. Just, try to impress him. No pressure.
There was a sofa, and beside it stood the prince. Oh, he seemed shorter in pictures. I walk towards him, reminding myself to keep my smile on and recall that I needed to dip down in a quick curtsey.
“Hello Lady Melissa. Please have a seat.” The prince greets before motioning to the sofa.
“Good morning, Prince Arin.” I glance over to the sofa before taking a seat, keeping my smile. “Thank you.”
He sits beside me. Up close, the first thing I notice was that his hair looked nice. Was that shallow? I mean… hair care and personal grooming was a good sign, right?
“How is your morning going?”
Compared to last night, I was in a much better mood, but of course I still felt tense. The cameras around wasn’t helping.
“Nothing short of spectacular.” I reply, recalling the answer I practiced in my head. Sometimes, it helps to practice answers. Oh wow, I really was nervous about this, wasn’t I? Shoot. “Woke up, never though I’d see such a great view of the ocean from my room, but there it was,” without knowing it my hands go up, “the sky was orange and glowing.”
I look to him, the memory of the sunrise bringing a genuine smile to my face. “How about you? How has your morning been going?”
“My morning has been fine, thank you.” He smiles at me. “Which province are you from?”
“Proud to be representing Midston. I bet you kind of had a hunch from the accent, but Orleans to be more specific, home to Mardi Gras and the best looking French Quarter in Illéa.”
The prince shakes his head, “Sorry, I honestly hadn’t noticed. But how do you like Angeles so far? It must be different from Midston.” His eyes trail elsewhere. Maybe towards the cameras?
“Well one thing I noticed was that… the buildings here are pretty tall.” I lift a shoulder up. “Don’t see that often where I’m from.” I chuckle before I look to where he looked, and realize that it indeed was a camera he glanced at a couple of seconds ago.
Don’t fix your hair, don’t fix your hair. My hand reaches up to tuck literally nothing back into place. Shoot. Don’t fix yourself around cameras, much less the prince, MISSY.
“It’s just as hot here though,” I add while fanning myself with my hand, “but I don’t know if that’s the weather or I’m just really nervous.”
“Nervous about which part?” the prince seems to watch me, still trying to maintain his smile.
I try to stop fidgeting, letting out a deep breath. “Not might be the same for you but I think meeting a prince for the first time would make you feel the slightest bit of jitters.” An unintentional laugh escapes me, and I try to smile. “Sorry, is it a little too much?”
The prince seems to shake his head, “No, uh… I’m mostly used to it.” He seems to pause for a moment before speaking up. “What do you do in Orleans?”
Without thinking, “Weddings.” I instantly say, “I mean, I plan weddings and debuts.” I start to ramble, “Catering, decorations, invitation, whatever a client wants for their special day, I can make it happen.”
He blows out a breath and nods, “Ah, I see. And how is…” he seems to hesitate at the next word, “wedding planning?”
Someone please, slap me.
Oh dear, it must still be a sensitive topic for him.
I try to give him a comforting smile, “It’s quite lovely, I don’t think I’ve experienced something as magical as someone’s wedding day. I’m just happy to help make the magic happen.” I’m reminded of my conversation with Jackson in the kitchen last night. The happiest business… he called it.
I blink, ah yes… way to rub some salt into a wound. QUICK. Find a way to salvage this. “Debuts are just as fun too. Just as much cake and magic.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He seems to shift slightly, “So you enjoy it?”
“Very much.” I reply. He still seems weirded out by it. QUICK. Change the topic. “Are you… a party person, your highness? Or a little more of a party of one kind of person?”
Prince Arin tilts his head, “I’ve enjoyed parties and sometimes I like to be alone. But honestly I don’t mind the chaos.” He then frowns. Why would he be frowning? Is he… one of those extra-introvert types? What did they call those people again? Eh, the only thing I really knew about those kinds of people was that they had a social battery or something like that.
“I think there’s always something to celebrate,” I bobble my head, “but we’ve all got a battery that can only take up so much uh… chaos. Nothing too different.”
He seems to blink in surprise, “That’s a different way of looking at things. It seems like you have a pretty high tolerance.”
Well, that’s one way to put it. I’ve always just been a really social type.
“I believe it’s all about perspective.” I smile, recalling another piece of advice my Grammy always told me. “Just gotta choose how you wanna perceive things instead of accepting them the way you first saw it. I mean, that’s what my Grammy’s always reminded me.”
“So move on with your life?” The prince looks at me curiously.
If only moving on was easy as saying that you were moving on.
“You make moving on sound bad.” I chuckle, recalling how… bad it really could be. “See it more of moving forward. Someone used to tell me , ‘Forward to a tomorrow, completely different from yesterday’. ” I glance to the prince. “I’m still figuring out that last piece of advice out though.”
I don’t know why I still quoted that. Quoted him of all people, but good advice… was good advice.
“And who was that?” Prince Arin asks, I catch him tilting his head to the side, “That sounds like something my mother would say.”
The answer seems to be stuck in my throat, I pause before saying, “That’s a story for another day, your highness.” I try to change the topic. “Your mother sounds very wise though. Are you two very close?”
“We are,” he nods before glancing at his watch. “But I can tell you more about that another day.” Touché, a chuckle escapes me.
Prince Arin stands, “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you this morning, Lady Melissa. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.”
“Missy, you can call me Missy.” I follow and stand up, dipping into another curtsy. “Have a nice day ahead of you, your Highness.” I give him one last smile, seeing him nod and take it as my cue to turn and leave.
Someone please tell me that was a good first impression.
#selectionoc#selection oc#selectionoc6#missy duthe#missy fics#((yes i'm ambiguous for reasons))#((guys I swear I have a backlog of like three RPs to finish writing but its worth it I promise))#((welcome to Missys panicky internal monologue))#((missy is me when I meet new people))#((let's go Libra placements))
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Challenge #1.75
Aka The Greenhouse RP with Jackson (Day Mode)
a/n: this is by far my fav fic so far JKDSNKDJK also I really just want this out because,,, reasons YEETHAW
Thank you Bri @jackson-graham for this RP and Jackson, the sweetest bean around. (I love him, okay????) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as I’ve enjoyed writing this one. (3696 words)
I really love plants, most especially flowers.
Plants always brightened up a room whenever you placed them by a windowsill.
All they ask is a little tender love and care, some water, and some sunlight.
Plants also didn’t typically weren’t around secret passageways in full blown dark mode.
It was safe to say that after getting trapped in that one secret hallway in the palace, I was going to avoid the library for a little while to make sure I didn’t end up in another precarious situation, only this time with no one to really help me.
That’s probably why I liked the palace’s greenhouse among all the places here, more than the palace gardens themselves.
It was bright, but not too hot. The surrounding greenery kept the greenhouse cool enough to lounge around in. It reminded me of my own garden back in Orleans, except it was probably twenty times larger. My favorite part about it was that no one else frequented it. I guess people preferred the palace air conditioning.
It was nice to walk around the greenhouse and be one with the greens, maybe soak in the sunlight just for a while and feel it warm my skin. Vegans have to photosynthesize somehow.
As usual the main entrance was open. The light hum of some watering system the palace filling the room. The west side of the greenhouse was full of vegetables and easy to grow fruits: tomatoes, eggplants, raspberries…
Sometimes I was tempted to pick some from their stems and sneak some of the flowering citrus plants here. Angeles was hot enough to grow those kinds of fruits, just like Orleans really.
The east side was mostly flowering plants aside from a bit of extra aesthetic weeds. I had a feeling that the gardeners here grew some of the flowers here before moving them to other spots in the main garden. There were occasionally patches of flowers that would be empty the next day, probably relocated to somewhere else on the grounds.
My eyes scan through the kinds of flowers. They kept a lot of flowers I was familiar with, actually. Floral arrangements were a regular aspect of my job back home, if not something I loved to do.
I got secondhand butterflies every time a bride asked me to help piece together her bouquet, or whenever I would go to my flower supplier and see the fields and varieties of flowers they have got. The options were always lovely, no matter the season.
A lot of flowers grew around these parts. Roses, veronicas, lavender, dahlias, daisies, hydrangeas. I wonder if the palace kept sunflowers.
Oh, a chunk of the gardenias were gone. I wonder where they were moved.
I could barely make it out, but there was some movement close to the dahlias.
Maybe it was a gardener who could help me figure out where the gardenias had moved.
I walk towards the dahlia section to investigate, stopping right in my tracks when I get a better view.
“Oh, well good afternoon.” I say before I feel my foot go behind mine in a quick dip.
The other person pops up from where they were half hidden by a couple of taller plants.
Dark hair, nice eyebrows, and a warm smile.
Jackson Graham…. with a couple of flowers in his gloved hand.
“Good afternoon, Missy.”
“Hello, Jackson.” I smile at him, still eyeing the flowers in his hand.
Dahlias. Lisianthus, and Roses. Boy’s got some good taste.
I gesture to the bunch.
“Pretty bunch of flowers you’ve got over there.” I lift an eyebrow. “Special Occasion? A date?”
A short laugh comes from Jackson.
“No. No, not a date.” He holds up the flowers in his gloved hands, “My mom’s birthday.”
Wow. You don’t typically see a boy making a bouquet from scratch. I feel a smile creeping on my lips.
“Oh, that’s so sweet.” I look over the flowers in his hands, curling my lips in. They were all focal flowers. I hope he wasn’t going to pick another huge flower to add to it, that would be a shame. He needed some greenery, some lines, some verticals to fill in the gaps.
“If that’s the case, mind if I make a suggestion?” I ask, impulsively wanting to help piece a bouquet together. It was one of those little things I missed about my job back at home.
“Um,” he looks down at the flowers for a second before looking up. “Sure. Why not?”
GREAT. I saw some line flowers close to the lavenders. I put my hands behind my back, looking for some nice line flowers.
I couldn’t help it, a part of me was itching to do something I used to do back home; and well, it looked like planning a wedding wasn’t exactly on the list. Floral arrangements, well—that was something close enough.
“I’m not being too intrusive, am I?”
He shakes his head. I really hope he didn’t mind me wanting to help.
“Not at all. I think if anyone knows about bouquets, it’s you.” A smile seems to grow on his face.
I laugh lightly, shaking my own head.
“Actually, most of the time, I don’t pick the bouquets.” I lift a shoulder up. “I just make… friendly suggestions.”
Friendly suggestions. Mama taught me to use that word when brides were two steps away from making some tacky choice. Thankfully, the clients I had usually asked me what I thought looked great or what was in style for the season. Friendly suggestions.
“Right, friendly suggestions.” Jackson chuckles softly before raising a brow, “I’m guessing they always take them.”
I consider it for a bit, bobbling my head still determined to find the perfect line flower.
“They do, but you’ll be surprised by the number of brides that still want their perfect Pinterest board weddings.” I muse before laughing ever so slightly at a few memories of how great a wedding they wanted on a specific budget.
“Happiest day of their lives is almost a paradox.” He says, and I catch him smiling to himself before he looks away.
“It’s my job to make them feel like they’re not stressed out,” I lift a shoulder, looking around the greenhouse before I catch the perfect addition by my feet.
“Aha! Found you.” I crouch down, making sure not to topple over in my platforms, inspecting the patch if they were fully grown. “Astilbe.”
False goat’s beard. Not the prettiest alternative name, but the flower was perfect to compliment the dahlias in Jackson’s hand. It also helped give some fullness to the bouquet.
I feel Jackson peek over my shoulder, “Looks nice.”
“They’re just filler flowers.” I look to him, holding a hand out for the scissors he was holding in his other hand. “You’ve picked out some real nice focal flowers though, just needs a little…” I wave a hand in the air, “jzhusing up to really make it pop.”
“Jzhushing?” I see the corner of his mouth tilt up as he offers me the scissors.
“Yes. Jzhushing. The difference of something that’s good and something that’s great.” I explain, giving him the explanation my Grammy used on me when I was a kid. That little something you add to make it extra special.
I snip at the stems, making sure not to destroy them, then standing up to hand it to Jackson to add to the bunch. “Jzhushing up.”
Jackson’s smile suddenly widens as I give him the stems. I hope he thought they were a good addition and smiling for the sake of just being nice.
“Any more suggestions on how to give my mom the best for her birthday?”
Well, he sounded genuine….
I place a hand on my chin, tapping it lightly. How else could I make this look even better?
“Dahlia, lisianthus, and roses are the focal, astilbe for the filler,” I blink, trying to figure the kind of flowers I could still help add. “You just need a line flower and some greenery, and you’re good to go.”
Jackson’s head turns slightly, giving me a half squinting side glance.
“Line flower.” He looks a bit amused. “You lost me.”
My smile tilts, right… it sounds kind of crazy without the explanations. “A tall flower, it’s meant to dictate the shape and height of the arrangement… or something like that.” My hand rises up slightly to make a gesture of height.
He seems to understand the term now. “The more extravagant for my mom, the better.” The amused look on his face doesn’t leave as he starts to arrange the Astilbes I gave him into the bunch.
“I’ll make sure that your mom’s bouquet turns out great.” I assure him, looking around the greenhouse for any line flowers and making my way around. I was determined to give him something pretty for his mom. I still thought that this was a sweet gesture. “Jumping off the effort you’re putting into this, I suppose you two are close?”
I hear his footsteps from behind me as he answers, “More or less. I still like to give her what I can regardless of that. What about you?”
“Me and my mother?” I bobble my head, my eyes still scanning the greenhouse. The answer way too easy. “She’s like my best friend.” I laugh. “It’s kind of weird for most people, but,” a giggle escapes me. “That’s what happens when you see her at work almost every single day.”
In all honesty, my mother didn’t feel like my mother. She had me when she was 17, and being pretty young… well… it felt like the two of us grew up around the same ages. At least Grammy was the mother figure we both needed.
“Family business.” There’s a half smile on his face. “Did it start with your mother?”
I shake my head at that. Knowing the humble beginnings of Duthé Debuts and Weddings. “Grandmother, actually. Grammy started it when my mom and dad got married.”
Grammy loved the idea of planning my parent’s wedding, young as they were. “First wedding she ever planned was in her very own backyard.”
My parent’s wedding.
“Quite the origin.” His focus shifts to one of the flower stems, picking at a small dead leaf. “Did you always want to follow in their footsteps?”
The answer to this was easy.
“For as long as I could remember.” I laugh. “I mean it’s all I’ve ever really know, ya know? Baking’s fun and all but it’s more of my dad’s thing, and well—someone needed to take over the business eventually.”
Oh wow, that sounded like I didn’t have a choice into this. In all honesty, Grammy and Mama wouldn’t have minded if I didn’t join the family business. It just so happened that I loved it anyway. Who couldn’t say no to planning weddings without having to actually getting married?
“No complaints though, I love my job.” I glance back to him, clarifying how happy my job actually made me.
He looks back up to me, giving me a curious look. “What’s your favorite part of the job?”
Another easy question.
“When the groom sees the bride for the first time in her wedding dress, hands down, no question.” I raise both of my hands to make a point. There was no arguing about that one single moment. “That part makes me cry inside a little every time.” I laugh at the memories of me holding one of my fellow coordinator’s hands whenever that moment happens, again: secondhand butterflies.
“What about you?” I ask, blinking for a second. Oh gosh, I think I forgot what exactly Jackson did. “Uh, I’m sorry… I… forgot your job.” I think I just wanted to dive into a bunch of plants from the embarrassment, but I settled for covering part of my face instead. I know we talked about this before in the kitchen. I know it was happy… it had something to do with animals.
He chuckles, shaking his head. Okay he didn’t look offended, thank God.
“It’s alright.” He clears his throat. “I work at an animal shelter. I start veterinary school in the fall.”
“Oh right, the just as happy job choice!” I chuckle to myself, “Saving little critters and treating them. I’m sorry, it’s hard remembering everything about everyone I’ve met here so far.” Sometimes I felt overwhelmed by it all, but that was a welcomed problem. To be surrounded by so many interesting people.
I blink once, bringing myself back to my conversation with Jackson. “So are you taking up any specializations in vet school?”
“You know, I’m still undecided actually.” He hums for a bit. “You’re the first person who’s asked me that in a while.” A breathy chuckle escapes him before he looks down at the flowers again.
“Well, it’s something to always keep in mind.” I bobble my head. “You still have a lot of time to decide, no rush amirite?”
“Not at all.” Jackson looks back up at me. “How’s the first couple weeks been?”
My eyes still try to search the greenhouse for the right line flowers, when he asks that.
“I don’t really have the right words to describe it.” I turn to look to him. “Exciting but also nerve-wracking? Informative but also a bit of an overload?” I feel myself curl my lips in. “Comfortable but also not?”
To be honest, living in the palace as Selected… was a paradox. I did quite like being called Lady Melissa Duthé, had a nice ring to it.
But oh boy, the whole living in the public eye, just waiting for Prince Arin to take me out on a date… that didn’t feel… nice.
Only adds to the amount of people I needed to keep on impressing.
“I think you’ve perfectly encapsulated what it’s like to be a royal.” I laugh at that. He smiles briefly before taking a seat on a nearby ledge. “Not that I would know completely. Mostly observed.”
“Have you and Arin really been friends since you were kids?” I ask, multitasking as a particular patch of greens catch my eye, making myself crouch down to get a better look.
“Pretty much. Though it’s Safiya who I was always a bit closer to when she could be torn away from my sister.” He seems to speak fondly about them, before he blinks and stands up straighter than he was a while ago.
“Your sister and the princess seem… close too.” I reach up and tuck some of my hair behind my ear. The princess and Felicity seemed close indeed based on our etiquette lesson from day 1 here in the palace.
My eyes catch a patch of Veronicas and I shuffle over to the nearby patch, and look up to Jackson. “Do you think these would do? These are Veronicas if I’m not mistaken.”
He looks over to the patch and nods quickly. “Yes. They look nice.” He reaches up to rub his nape before glancing away.
Why… was he… acting like that? Was it because of Felicity?
“I can imagine it might be odd. What with… Felicity.” Jackson then adds quietly.
I shrug, “Oh please, engagements are broken all the time.”
I take the pair of scissors and start snipping at the Veronicas, my hand then moving over to a nearby patch of silver dollars.
Engagements are broken all the time? Great observation, Melissa.
“Better to break it off earlier than,” I continue with a snip of veronicas and silver dollars, “after you’ve married someone. Now that’s messy.” I snip again at the flowers. Divorce. That indeed was the messier circumstance.
“I suppose that line of thinking is… efficient.”
“Well, being in the wedding industry makes you realize certain things.” I lift a shoulder, thinking about it. “If I had a bride or groom express doubts about marriage, typical action is to make sure that they’re still committed.”
God forbid that I have to see another bride walk down the aisle and watch a groom leave her standing alone at the altar. Never again.
I stand and hand over the new bunch of greens and flowers to Jackson.
Jackson’s eyebrows raise, taking the flowers. “Does that happen often?”
“Not too often,” I meet his eyes, “it just happens and I’d rather help make sure that there isn’t much long term damage.” If I were interested in the long term damage, I would have studied to become a Divorce lawyer. Now that would be ironic.
I click my tongue, the conversation topic digging a pit in my stomach. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore, or think about it.
“Most of the time, people reach the altar on my watch.” I point to the bouquet. “Does this look good enough for your mom?”
It just needed to be arranged a little more. Maybe I could convince him to let me just.. make… some adjustments.
Jackson lifts the bunch up, and higher to his nose to smell them. He flashes me one of those sincere smiles. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, it’s greatly appreciated.”
He glances around for a few moments, and walking over to a nearby bush of flowers, ones I didn’t quick recognize. I watch him as he bends to gently pluck one and walk back and hold it out to me.
“I know you gave me flowers, so here’s one for you. As a thanks.”
For a moment, I just stand there and look at the flower. It was definitely different from the ones he gave me. It was pretty.
I smile, taking the flower. “That’s mighty gentlemanly of you.” I laugh. “I just gave you a bunch of glorified decorative weeds.”
He laughs deeply, his eyes closing for a moment. “What my mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
It was quite the adorable look on his face.
“Well,” I tilt my head and look away, not sure why I did before looking back to him and use the flower in my hand to point at the bouquet in his hand, I’ve outdone myself with this one. “at least it’s pretty. I hope she likes it.”
Jackson smiles before saying, “I’ll send you a thank you note if she does. If not, well, maybe you’ll get a weed.”
I shake my head at that, “No need to send me a thank you note, ooooor,” I lift a brow, “a weed.”
I look at it for a quick second before adding, “This was more your work than mine really. You might wanna wrap the bouquet in some paper and ribbon. Might help with the final presentation.” I give him a bright smile.
He nods his head once before starting to tug off his gloves and setting them on a table filled with other things. He then turns to me with knit brows.
“I think I forgot to ask why you came here.”
“I come here whenever I can.” I explain, my eyes scanning through the greenhouse. “I used to garden a lot back in Orleans and well, this greenhouse definitely is a lot better than what I had before back home. It’s a nice place to breathe and get out of that Women’s Room they usually ask us to stay in.”
“Do you actually garden here? Or is it more of sit and observe activity?” He asks, as I watch him take some string to tie all the stems together.
A part of me wishes I could garden in a place like this.
“Sit and observe, mostly. Can’t quite get my hands dirty over here, or well dresses like this.” I gesture to my dress, a light yellow number for today, before continuing. “Sometimes I’d find flowers that have fallen and press them into some old books. It’s a nice little routine.”
I don’t think I’ve told anyone that before.
“If you haven’t seen it already, I recommended a bench near the east corner.” Jackson gestures to the east side of the greenhouse. “Near the hydrangeas. Pretty secluded view of the gardens, especially near the sunset. I think you’ll enjoy it.” A small smile appears on his face, shifting to hold the bouquet with both of his hands.
“Thank you.” I look over to the east corner of the greenhouse, feeling myself smile while my hands fiddled with the flower Jackson gave me. I think I knew the spot he meant.
“I’ll take your word on that.” I add before my eyes fall back on Jackson and the bouquet, one of the pieces was sticking out and hanging dangerously. My hand reaches out to help fix it for him.
Jackson doesn’t look down immediately, looking slightly confused before a sheepish look ghosts his features. “I guess I should be more careful.”
“Wouldn’t want that to fall.” I can’t help but laugh before pulling my hand away. “It’d be a shame if it fell off while you were moving.” I put my hands behind my back, still fiddling with the flower Jackson gave me. I look around, the daylight having already started to fade.
It must be close to dinner time. I needed to retouch my make up, I needed to maybe change my dress. I must have gotten a bit of it slightly dirty.
“I guess it’s time for me to take my leave. I have to fix myself up for dinner.” I say before lifting up the flower, “Thank you again for this.”
“Sure.” A crooked smile forms on his face. “I um, I should be leaving for home. I have a delivery, thanks to you.”
“Be safe going home. It was nice talking to you again.” I remark, giving him a small wave with my free hand. I then take my leave towards the exit of the greenhouse, adding while I leave, “Give your mom my regards!”
“I will.” I hear Jackson say, catching him wave, a smile on his face from the corner of my eye.
As I walk back to my room, my eyes look down on the flower Jackson gave me.
I raise it up to my nose and smile.
I loved flowers.
#selection oc#selectionoc#selectionoc6#~jackson tag#((I love Jackson okay?))#((HE IS THE SWEETEST))#((I PERSONALL SCREAMED WHEN JACKSON GAVE HER THE FLOWER))#missy fics#missy duthe#side rp tag
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
challenge #5 (part 2)
aka fireworks (aka clownery and delusions luv)
a/n: i jwu after 3 hours of sleep and edited this. this is a particularly spicy one featuring Felicity and Arin. Full disclosure, I needed a drink to write like half of this RP AHAHHDKJNKD #dumbbitchjuice Thank you @arin-schreave and @/felicity-graham aka Anna for these RPs. I love you ma’m you’re doing amazing. Link is in the aka title as usual for the doc for easier reading. Enjoy the clownery of part 2 of the ball and keep your eyes peeled for part 3 (5845 words)
I give my laptop’s camera another twirl, seeing my Mama and Grammy’s jaws drop as I feel the weight of my gown catch what little air it could.
“Prettier than an orange blossom in your Papaw’s Orchard.” My Grammy’s voice rings from the speaker, her expression looking quite pleased with my dress.
I actually got ready faster than I thought it was gonna take me, my maids having done amazing fast work with my hair and make up. After they finished and fixed what they needed to fix, I had asked my maids for a moment to myself so I can videocall my family for this.
It was the first look anyone’s got of me in my dress, and I can’t help but smile at how beautiful it was.
“Blue really is your color darlin’.”
Blue, almost Lilac.
“You look every bit a princess should look.” My mama says as she seems to be leaning closer to their computer screen, probably to get a closer look.
When my name was announced a couple of months ago, I think the only person more excited than I was about the Selection was my Mama. It made her so proud that I had a chance of being a Princess, she told everyone in her circle of friends 5 minutes after I was called and was running around the house.
It reminded me of the days when I did those little pageants in Orleans. Mama was always so supportive with the dresses she made for me, teaching me how to walk and curtsey. She had dreams for me, that’s a fact I’ve known since I was tiny. Part of those dreams before was to settle down early before. Now I think she just wants me married.
“I was just talking with Betty, ya know your Aunt Betty, right honey? Anywhos, I was just talking with her about you and she was telling me how lovely you looked in your Selected pictures.” I hear Mama talk, going onto sharing how she was sharing with her friends about my experiences in the Selection—how far I’ve made it through. Saying that the prince must have definitely taken a liking to me.
Sometimes I wish I had the heart to tell her the truth.
Sometimes I worried about how she’d react if she found out that I cried after my first date with the prince, or what she’d say that I’ve only gone on one other date besides it.
I smile to her, smoothing down the embroidered blue fabric of my skirt, trying to play it coy.
Maybe it’s too early to tell her all of that.
“Well, Mama, I’m always trying to put my best foot forward.”
Not all hope was lost, things were progressing well with Arin at least. He wasn’t actually half-bad, if not just a little too serious. I was willing to wait and see this through, and I wasn’t going to give up on my chances with Arin or my chances of a fairytale.
“As you should! Oh honey, you’re never giving me all the details I wanna hear!” My Mama says before Grammy seems to push her to the side, which makes me giggle at the sight.
Grammy’s expression is a little funnier to see onscreen. “Oh, hush Caroline! Let the girl have a little privacy. She’s not 14 anymore, and you can’t spy on her from the living room window no more.”
I blink to the screen as I take a seat on my vanity, shaking my head at that memory.
I feel a small lump in my throat at another reminder that memory brings.
A day in the Spring, hot as ever in Orleans. 14 and feeling light as air as Daniel walked me back home from school, him holding a jacket over me to shield me from the sun and the heat— catching my mother’s eyes peaking through the curtains of one of windows.
“I digress, I digress. Can’t blame a mother being just a little curious with what her daughter’s been up to all the way in Angeles.” My mother says in her defense, and I force a smile onto my face again—swallowing that lump and pushing that memory to the back of my mind, putting it back in an imaginary box with Daniel’s name on it.
“A good southern woman doesn’t kiss and tell.” I reply before giving myself one last look into my mirror, smoothing my hair down and applying some perfume to my wrists, the scent of daisies filling the room. I tried to remain conscious of the time and my laptop’s clock was telling me that it time for me to make a move.
“Best think I should be heading down now. Wouldn’t wanna be fashionably late for the dinner.” I say to the camera, my eyes moving from my mirror to my screen to my mother and grandmother’s faces. Gosh, I still wish they were here with me right now.
“Be sure to smile for the cameras! Ah, I can’t wait to see all the pictures!”
“Don’t waltz all those boys into a stuper, Missy dear.” Grammy gives me a wink as she waves to the camera.
The corners of my mouth tilts up at the thought of dancing.
“I’ll call y’all tomorrow about what happens tonight. Give Daddy all my love when he gets home. Good night Mama, Good night Grammy!” I say as my hand moves along the mouse pad to end the call, and I close my laptop. Turning my head as I hear a knock on my door.
Perfect timing.
My hand reaches to check my dress’ pocket if my emergency kit was inside and I feel the rectangular case in it already. Never gonna know what I’m going to need tonight.
I push my seat away from the desk and stand, walking over to my door opening it to find my escort on the other side of the door.
The walk to the Great Hall was actually quite exciting, my escort was a nice young fella named Phillip. Apparently, all the Selected ladies had a guard as their escort for the night—a welcomed part of the job according to him.
We converse a bit as we walk down and I hold onto his arm like any girl with an escort should. It actually reminded me of all the debuts and cotillions I attended and planned—even my own cotillion when I was 18. Those dances and events needed an escort too, and mine was always… the same person.
A small crowd started to form outside the dining hall, everyone looking finely dressed in their gowns and tuxedos. Some Selected girls, others were probably guests of the Royal Family.
I look around the crowd as my guard guides me close to the entrance, scanning for familiar faces amongst it.
We stop close to the entrance. Phillip says that he’ll be right back for me saying that he’ll just be double checking with another guard about the events of tonight and what time they’d start letting everyone into the hall for dinner. I give him a quick smile, nodding and still scanning the room.
Everyone looked so beautiful tonight. It made me want to sigh—this Ball was grander than anything I’ve ever attended or planned in the past. Oh gosh, I wonder what the Great Hall looked like right now since it was the night time.
As I look around, I realize the closest person to me was familiar.
Felicity Graham.
Her dark hair was up in a gorgeous bun. Her ecrue off-the-shoulder dress looked something straight out of a runway. She looked like she stepped off a runway, what with being so statuesque. She was rocking on her heels, glancing around every few seconds or so.
I debate with myself for half a second if I should talk to her. There really wasn’t any harm in doing so. She couldn’t be as bad as the whispers I’ve heard about her. Plus she was Jackson’s sister. No harm in giving her a complimenting, right?
I smile in her direction and say to her, “You look pretty as a Magnolia in May, Miss Felicity.”
“I’m sorry?” is the first thing she says as she looks to me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I try to maintain my smile as I watch as she relaxes a bit. “Oh, it’s you.”
She gives me a onceover before she meets my eyes again.
I clasp my hands in front of me and her response makes me think that she might not know who I am, which is reasonable. I don’t think I would… research on any girl linked to my ex.
I decide to introduce myself, knowing fully well that we’ve never really spoken to each other in the past.
“I’m Missy, from Orleans.” I say, trying to channel my friendliest smile. “You look great! I love how the fabric of your dress looks like it can catch the wind just right.”
Her dress indeed was a gorgeous one, the kind that moved just right when someone walked.
“I know who you are, Missy.” Felicity replies before glancing down at her dress, then looking back up at the hint of a smile on her lips. “Are you sure you don’t have the wrong Graham?”
The wrong Graham?
I blink at her statement, a tad confused. But I still feel myself smile just a bit, remembering my conversation with Jackson earlier today.
“Is there a right or wrong Graham I should be speaking with?” I ask.
“You’re already speaking to her.” Felicity’s eyes flit away for a moment again, before she asks me “So… How have you and Arin been getting on?” the amusement in her tone was kind of clear.
“Oh,” a small laugh that sounded more awkward than I liked escapes me. I don’t quite know how to answer Felicity correctly. Partly because of Arin, partly because I didn’t want to say anything that could offend her.
I, of all people, should know the right etiquette for treating ex-fiancées. I wanted to say something that wouldn’t let in too much but I also didn’t want to lie about my less than ideal position in the Selection.
I find myself nodding once. “He kind of grows on you, to be honest.” I lift a shoulder up. “Guess I still wanna get to know him better though.”
I wasn’t lying. I was quite interested in getting to know better. Maybe tonight I’d have the chance to. I can only hope my answer satisfies Felicity’s curiosity.
She looks like she’s holding back a smirk.
“Right… Arin. Yes, he does.” Felicity rocks on her heels again, she seems anxious about something. “So, how do you feel about other people you’ve met so far?”
Her question makes me scan the area again, hoping to ground my answer onto someone, maybe even see a particular person’s face but I don’t really catch anyone familiar save for some of the other Selected girls.
“It's been lovely meeting everyone here. The girls are sweetest, it's kind of like having sisters I've never had. Have you gotten to talk to the other girls?”
Felicity looks around, surveying the girls around us and lets out a sigh. I’m not sure if it was a sigh of disappointment or something else.
“I’ve talked to a few of them. None too noteworthy…” she says before her smile returns to her face. “What about Wylan… or say Jackson? I imagine you must have run into him by now.”
“Wylan, I think I've only met him during his birthday party a few days back.” I tilt my head, trying to sum up all the good things about Jackson—especially since I was talking to his sister.
“I've run into Jackson plenty of times actually. It's been nice to talk to him whenever he drops by here.” I feel my smile soften at thought of all the kindness he’s shown to me lately. “He's been such a huge help with the community engagement project I proposed too.”
Felicity nods, “So he’s only helpful?”
“Oh no, not just that!” I shake my head immediately. I didn’t want Felicity to think that I thought her brother was just helpful. No, Jackson was caring and had the biggest heart around here, plus he has a voice I could listen to all day.
The song he sang earlier in my head rings in my head. Maybe the night holds a little hope for us dear.
Um, nope. I didn’t want to say any of that out loud.
When I think I had the right description, I still find myself tripping over my own words.
“He’s been nothing but genuinely sweet and kind to me! I like to think that he’s one of my closest friends here.” I punctuate the end of that with a little laugh, aware that I wasn’t doing a very good job describing him.
She seems to look at the floor, a small smile on her face as she nods before taking a deep breath. “Good.”
Gosh, why was I so bad at this? Still, I can’t help but think again to the soundcheck earlier today.
I think Jackson’s real performance later was something I couldn’t wait to happen.
“Can’t wait to hear him play something later. He already sounded really great a while ago.” I say before I take another glance, wondering where Jackson was before looking back to Felicity. She looked like something was troubling her. I felt compelled to ask her, wondering if my gut feeling was right.
“You okay, Miss Felicity?”
A big smile appears on her face as she answers me.
“Of course I am. It’s just the jitters.” Her smile doesn’t falter.
Something I learned here in the palace was to never pry to deep, so I simply smile back at Felicity—trying my best to give her a reassuring look.
“Now don’t let those jitters scare you too much!” My left hand goes over looking for my Grammy’s ring on my right. Only remembering that I wasn’t wearing it tonight. Maybe for the better. My left hand settles with fiddling with my bracelet on my wrist. “I hope you enjoy yourself tonight, it is Independence Day after all.”
She nods, “Happy Independence Day, Missy. I hope it’s everything you imagined it would be.”
I suddenly hear my name being called, and see my guard coming up to my side telling me that we were starting to head in two minutes. I give him a friendly nod and a thank you before turning back to Felicity.
“You too Miss Ma’m! It was very nice talking to you. Again, I love your dress.” I gesture to her dress again—maybe wanting to ask my maids for a dress similar to it—then my guard clears his throat to remind me that we should get going, which earns him a nod from me.
Phillip starts to lead me away, but I give Felicity one last smile. “Have fun!”
-------
The night moves faster than I realize it does.
The last time I danced this much was back in my 18 Roses on my 18th birthday party, back then dancing with 18 personally picked men who each gave me a rose and a dance each. The first rose back then was obviously my Daddy, and I don’t think I’d ever forget the look on his face when we were dancing to Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You.
Both occasions still left me feeling more than just a little tired.
Maybe it was all the dancing I’ve done with who knows how many people, maybe it was the waiting at the sides as I occasionally checked the stage and looked around if Jackson was about to start setting up.
I wanted to wait and standby so I could catch his song again, wanting to hear him singing it again.
Maybe the night holds a little hope for us.
The chorus of the song not leaving my head even if I tried to forget it. It wasn’t the only thing I couldn’t get out of my head.
So I waited.
And danced with some more people who asked me to dance when they approached me. I had no complaints about it, I missed dancing actually.
I also did the Toktik Savage dance routine with a younger guest at the party who was just as excited as I was when it started playing on the speakers.
I’m a savage, classy boujee ratchet—the whole routine.
By the end of that, I was in need of a touch up so I decided to leave the Great Hall for five minutes, hoping that I wouldn’t miss Jackson’s ((👀)) performance while I was gone.
I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t actually speed walk to the nearest powder room.
I take a minute to pat my forehead with my emergency kit’s blotting paper and dust myself with a little powder to get the shine off, dab a bit of the rouge from the pan to brighten up my complexion.
Once I’m satisfied, I give myself a final onceover with the powder room’s mirror.
Why was I in such a rush to get back?
I sigh to myself and press the heel of my palm against my forehead.
I must have really just wanted to get back to dancing, that’s it.
I look at the tiny little compact case in my hands and close it, ready to go back.
The music from the Great Hall was playing faintly as I go through the powder room’s door and I breathe a sigh of relief when the song playing doesn’t sound like Jackson’s song.
I probably should get back soon if I didn’t wanna miss it.
I take a few steps down the hallway, Jackson’s song playing over and over in my head as I walk.
I don’t expect to bump into someone else as I make my way back, most especially that someone being Arin Schreave.
“Hi Arin.” I greet him with a smile, knowing fully well we haven’t spoken since our date at the pool where he taught me how to swim. Since then I haven’t had the chance to talk to him.
Maybe this was my chance to… get to know him better. I mean, I was here to do that, right?
He seems distracted as I greet him, only responding half a second late that someone was talking to him. Arin looks up to me.
“Oh, Missy. Hi.”
I take in his appearance, realizing that he looked, for lack of better word, disheveled.
His hair was roughed up and his bow tie looked almost undone. I’m not sure if I should comment on any of that.
Instead, I clasp my hands in front of me and ask, “Having a nice night so far?”
That seemed like a good way to ask him if he was alright.
The hallway wasn’t the best lit place, but I swear I could catch a blush on his face which only confuses me even more.
Arin then swallows.
“It’s going well enough.” He glances around the empty hallway. “How’s your night going?”
I maintain my smile. “Nothing but good times rolling for the whole night. Dancing is quite fun, ain’t it?”
Arin’s disheveled appearance still is something I wonder if I should bring up.
I wonder if he knows… if he looks like this right now. I try to test the waters by making a light remark about his undone bow tie.
“Guess you’ve had enough fun to almost undo your bow tie.”
He blinks in surprise, and my hunch appears to be right. He didn’t know. His eyes attempt to glance down.
“Oh… I’m not sure how that happened.” He says before he reaches his hands up to his bow tie.
“If you don’t mind, I think I have a hack or two to make sure your tie doesn’t become undone for the rest of night.” I point to his bow tie, as I offer him my friendliest expression. “Only if you let me, of course.”
I loved helping tie bow ties. It was a fun little thing I did whenever a groomsman struggled with his tie for a ceremony. A wedding proof bow tie knot was something most, if not all, wedding planners should know by heart.
Arin seems to pull his hands back and nods. “Sure…” He takes a deep breath and grimaces. “How bad does my hair look?”
I give him a quick smile at his agreement, stepping up to fully undo his bow tie and start from the beginning, talking as I started adjusting the ends.
“Well, it has seen better days. I can help you with that too in a bit.” I laugh a bit, glancing to his hair. I make sure to put my thumb between the knot and his throat—making sure that it was going to be a comfortable fit.
That earns me a grown from Arin as I watch him reach up and pat down his hair. “Thank you for doing this, Missy.” He glances down to me.
His groan makes me laugh and I tilt my head in amusement.
“It’s the least I could do.” I reply, focusing more on the specific knot I had in mind. I cross and tug the ends making sure things would be properly spaced. “Lots of photographers back in the Great Hall, wouldn't want them getting any bad pictures of you.”
He glances down to his watch. “Thankfully they should be clearing out here pretty soon. Then we can get to the fun dancing.”
“Fun dancing, now I can get behind that very much.” I grin up to him, tugging at the last end I needed to pull at and gesturing to it when I’m satisfied. “One twisted knot with an extra back end to prevent any unwanted loose bows. Adds dimension but the most dance-proof knot. If you wanna take it off later, just pull at the back fold over here.”
I had to hand it to myself, I did a pretty good job with his tie. It’s been a while since I tied one those, but I’m glad that I still remembered how to.
“Oh. Thank you.” He reaches up to touch his bow tie. “I’ll keep that in mind for any more.. dancing I do tonight.”
“Best to keep that in mind indeed.” I nod before I turn my attention to his hair, putting my hand on my chin.
“As for your hair…” I shake my head as I look down the hallway for any mirrors close by so he could see for himself. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any nearby mirrors—and the powder room wasn’t close by anymore. “Do you know if there are any rooms with mirrors ‘round here?”
“Uh, I think the sitting room has one.” Arin glances down the hallway before looking back at me with a confused expression. “Why?”
I blink, forgetting that idea. Being alone with him in a room didn’t sound quite right.
“Just thought you’d wanna see the finished product with a much much bigger mirror.” I reply before reaching into my dress’ pocket and pull out my emergency kit, a small case that to Arin probably looked like a pocket mirror except when I open it, it has everything you’d ever need for a party or a wedding emergency: powder, blush, blotting paper, a band air, some thread and needles stuck to it, tiny scissors… and lastly a tiny tiny comb.
“It’s a good thing I brought the emergency kit then.” I smile down on it.
Arin lets out what seemingly is a genuine laugh. “Are you always this prepared?”
“You don’t have to get ready if you stay ready.” I laugh before taking the comb out and placing the kit back in my pocket. “I've planned over a hundred events, trust me-- this emergency kit is nothing. Never know when a dress rips or someone needs a little touch up in between pictures.”
In fact the kit I had was only a scaled down version of my fanny pack of emergency tools for weddings. Oh gosh, weddings were disasters waiting to happen.
Arin chuckles, “Well, I guess if anyone ever actually tries to make it down the aisle with me I know who to call.”
I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard Arin bring up weddings on his own. It was actually quite amusing to me that he said so. Oh gosh, I can’t believe I was actually having a nice conversation with him.
“I'm sure a lucky girl is going to want to make it down the aisle with you.” I giggle as I reach up with the comb and fix a couple of strands of his hair. As I work on his hair, I can’t help but feel like it’s hard for myself to imagine myself in that position—at least not yet, but progress was being made that made me hopeful that I still had a chance with Arin.
“Do I keep the side part dominantly on the left side?”
“Left side.” He answers, smiling at me.
I nod, returning a similar smile. “You got it, Mr. Schreave.” I go back to work, easily able to reach up to his hair with my heels on. I still really wonder how his hair got to this.
“Is it okay to ask why you look like you just walked through a hurricane?”
Arin clears his throat. “I’ve just had a lot of running around… there’s a lot of people I’ve had to see.”
Ooooo, must have been a lot of running and meeting people then.
I hum at that as I smooth his side part down. “Of course. Big party with all these guests and well… us girls. Everyone would wanna get a piece of that action.”
The comb runs through a few more strands of his hair, which admittedly was the first thing I noticed when we first met. He did have nice hair.
I pat his hair lightly when I get his hair to look just right, like the way I’ve noticed he’s worn it before.
“And…” I give his hair a last minute pat, then meet his eyes. “your hair is read for the cameras again.”
Arin groans again. “If I never saw another camera again, I’d be a happy man.”
“Hey,” I laugh, amused as ever with his sentiments against cameras. I put the comb back in my emergency kit and close it with an audible click. “You can be a happy man even with cameras around. On the bright side, there'll be lots of pictures to remember stories from tonight.”
He seems to grimace at that, but he suddenly reaches up and I feel his hand push some strands of my hair behind my ear. I guess I didn’t notice that earlier.
I curl my lips in at that contact, suddenly feeling all the more conscious that we were alone in the hallway together.
Still, I wasn’t going to let this opportunity go. This was still my chance with Arin.
I thought my dream of this Selection being a fairytale with a prince were ruined back during our first date but—maybe I was wrong.
I offer Arin a small smile and a “Thank you.”
He doesn’t pull his hand back from my ear, his eyes looking me over.
I feel more conscious now more than ever with his hand still there.
What was he doing?
No, what was I doing?
Still, it felt nice. It felt familiar.
Like something I haven’t felt ever since Daniel and I were still together, like the weird little feeling in your chest when you’re 14 and unsure of what to do next after an accidental brush of hands.
It’s been so long since then.
And it feels like one of those scenes in the movies, right before the couple did some grand old romantic gesture where the princess’ foot would pop or there’d be butterflies in the main character’s stomach.
Could this be it for me?
It has to be. It just has to be.
I find myself leaning closer to Arin.
“I think I want to kiss you.” He murmurs as I feel his hand go to my cheek.
My eyes widen at him saying it out loud.
I wasn’t used to this with other people, but I was in the Selection for this very reason.
I had to start somewhere.
I wanted to fall in love here.
This was a start.
This could be the start of something I’ve wanted back for so long, at least prove to myself that after all this time I wasn’t broken after what happened with Daniel.
I find myself nodding and leaning closer to Arin, wanting him to close the gap.
“Is that okay?” he breaths out, and his eyes seem to study me. I can’t believe he’s still asking.
My face flushes the longer we stay this close and wait for something to happen—nerves I didn’t know existed making themselves known now.
I remind myself of my Mama’s hopes that I’d end up falling in love with a prince…
I remind myself of why else would I be here in the first place if not to get a fairytale romance with a prince…
…because I don’t think I’ve ever come close to that with Arin until now.
Maybe this will convince me that I actually like Arin this way and erase all my doubts.
A kiss is all it could take to realize the truth. Please work.
So I manage to softly say a “yes”.
It’s the kind of scene in the movies when you should feel fireworks go from your stomach to your heart— bathing you in a warm feeling like how when you see fireworks light up the sky on New Year’s Day.
It should feel like fireworks.
That’s how you know things are going to work.
Daniel felt like fireworks.
When Arin leans in closer, I reach up to hold his face too— then I feel him press his lips to mine.
It should feel like fireworks.
But it doesn’t.
I don’t feel anything.
I try to wait for a beat and see, maybe it just needs some time to kick in?
And I’m not sure if I imagine it, but I think I can hear the music in the Great Hall from a distance.
Maybe the night holds a little hope for us, dear.
Jackson.
That thought is something I push to the back of my mind as I pull away from Arin, reaching up to gently remove his hand from my face.
“I'm... uh— I'm sorry. That—” I cut myself off, trying to process what just happened. It felt like everything was crashing down onto me.
Arin wasn’t the one for me.
“Was that... Did that feel... um..? Weird for you?” I try to manage out a coherent thought, while trying my best to not make Arin angry or upset.
Arin takes a step away from me and clears his throat.
“I— I’m sorry.” He says before chuckling nervously. Well, at least he didn’t seem upset either. “Missy, you’re great. I just.... I don’t think we need to do that again.”
OH THANK GOD.
I blush from the embarrassment of this entire situation but nod my head a couple of times in agreement. It was stupid of me to keep on pushing the idea that Arin and I were going to work out that way.
“No, I don’t think we’d need a repeat of that... for... like, ever.” I blink, hearing myself say that out loud. My voice suddenly goes up an awkward octave trying to damage control that.
“NOT—” I catch my tone as my hands go up, modulating my voice and remain calm in this situation. “Not that I don’t think you’re great. In fact, I really do hope at least one of the girls here makes you very happy! I think I’m just not one of ‘em.”
I could let the ground swallow me whole, and I’d thank it. But Arin was still a friend, and well he seemed like he needed more friends now more than ever.
Arin’s expression seems sympathetic, like he gets the situation.
He holds his hands up. “No- I get it. I really do. You’re wonderful but I’m not sure we would be wonderful together.” He glances towards the doors that lead into the ballroom. “I think we should pretend this didn’t happen…”
Now that’s something I can get behind.
“Agreed. I completely agree.” I make a swiping motion over my forehead, trying to not let the disappointment ruin this moment. I try to smile. “Consider it memory-wiped buddy.”
No matter how uneasy I felt about myself right now—I wasn’t going to ruin it.
“You go back first or me?” I ask.
He lets out a nervous laugh, “I think there’s no harm in us walking back together.”
I snap a finger and finger gun point to him, “Sure, do I still have to hold your arm?”
The joke sounds like a sad attempt of me trying to get my mind off my ruined hopes for this Selection, which honestly it is.
That seems to make Arin frown a little.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Don’t worry, I want to. It’s the proper Belt Belle thing to do, afterall.” I tilt my head to the door, trying to not be sad and enjoy this new discovery. I wasn’t going to cut ties with Arin just because I know he wasn’t boyfriend material for me. “Shall we?”
He chuckles at that then answers me in possibly the worst attempt of a southern accent I’ve ever heard.
“Yes ma’am.” He says as he holds out his arm for me to take and we walk back to the Great Hall together.
Once we get back, Arin and I part ways with a shared laugh, and it’s a nice consolation to know that at least we could still be friends despite everything that just happened.
I couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach though. As much as I wanted to stay in the Great Hall and enjoy the party—I couldn’t stop the wave of emotions that I was trying to process right now.
To my right was a glass door opened for everyone to go through if they wanted to go through the gardens—and I needed as much space from people as I could right now.
I didn’t want anyone see me like this right now. I just needed five minutes to myself.
So I manage to go through the door and try my very best to keep it together as I picked up a part of my dress’ skirt off the ground to move faster to the gardens.
There was only one place I know no one would be, close enough for me to sort through this lump of emotions.
The greenhouse.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
challenge 5 (part 1)
aka maybe the night (jackson #5: the sound check)
Jackson sings this song in the fic,,, PLEASE LISTEN TO IT YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT NADKJNDK: https://open.spotify.com/track/1yDiru08Q6omDOGkZMPnei?si=SR_Ce75XTqqO7Po7nu0_Vw
a/n: Not actually Challenge 5, but it’s the day of the ball so YEET for all intents and purposes it’ll be titled as part of challenge 5 anyway. There are going to be 3 fics cause it’s easier to digest AND BOY DO I LOVE THE ENDING OF THIS. Laidease and gents, this girl is confused. Take a shot every time Missy simps over Jackson. @jackson-graham thank you so much Bri for the gift that is both Jackson Graham and Jordan Fisher. I recommend that you listen to Maybe the Night by Ben and Ben because.... this is a song fic. AHAHHJKSDNKJDNK I PROMISE YOU’LL LIKE THE SONG. IT’S ONE OF MY WEDDING SONGS AHAHAHAHJKWNK aight bye, this is just an appetizer before the ball NJKNKKD Gdoc linked in the title as usual (2509 words)
My eyes go back and forth between the two dresses hanging in my closet.
I love my maids, I really do—but gosh darn it, did they have to be so darn talented that I couldn’t even pick a dress for the ball tonight?
Green. The color of fresh grass. Flowers and Ribbons hanging around. Long flowy sleeves. A work of art, something straight out of a fairytale.
Or…
Blue. Almost Lilac. Off the shoulder. Beaded. Short Sleeves. A true ball gown, fit for a princess.
I narrowed my choices to two very different gowns for the event—yet I couldn’t pick which one I was going to wear. Don’t even get me started with the hair and make up needed for each dress. I sigh looking over to the clock.
5 o’clock.
One of my maids, Kylar, stands by my vanity, setting things up as she patiently waits for me to make a decision, swatching shades of eyeshadow on the back of her hand. Skylar and Campbell were off getting more things for tonight too. It takes a village to get a girl ready.
I needed to take a walk. Dress picking could wait another hour, I suppose.
Maybe I can sneak a peek of the Great Hall while it’s being set up. Hmmm… not a Bad idea.
--------------
Grammy did tell me that I should sneak a peek of the way the place was decorated, I tell myself as I slip through a door that leads into the Great Hall.
By tomorrow, people were going to start using pictures of this event for whatever party, wedding, or debut they had in mind.
Iridescent, was the theme of the ball.
I’m not disappointed, not one bit—my eyes first drawn to the crystals that hung from the ceiling. The daylight seeped into the room just right that little rainbows were already shining around the room. I wondered how they were going to look like in the night. There were fabrics being draped by the sides of the room, more silvery in color at first glance.
I try to stay at the sides of the room as staff were setting up the rest of the room and tables.
A bunch of what I assumed to be musicians were chatting and setting up by the stage with people in full black attire were taping down wires. Must be the soundcheck.
Musicians and bands needed to practice a little earlier than the event itself to make sure everything was working right.
Is it weird that I missed this? The little chaos hours before every event. The sound of tables and chairs being set accompanied by the rustling of people mobilizing other decorations. All that was missing for me was my clipboard and it could have felt like home.
I tilt my head up in awe of how everything looked already. Whoever was the events planner for this deserved a raise. I hear a quick strum from a guitar playing from the speakers.
Oh wow, even their sound system here was great, but my eyes stay looking up as I try to take each of the little detail of the Great Hall. I wonder if I could ask the planner for their supplier, maybe even get the card of their tech provider because—
“Check, one two.”
Something inside of me jumps. That voice was familiar.
My eyes look directly for the source.
The stage.
Jackson. It was Jackson standing onstage, a guitar strapped over his shoulder.
Suddenly the room was filled with music. Initially, the music too loud before whoever probably was on the sound board started to adjust things.
The band behind was playing a sort of folk-pop tune and Jackson was leading them as he sang.
He was singing.
I want to lay down by the fire with you
Where souls are glowing, ever warmer too
Your love surrounds me like a lullaby
Singing softly, you are mine oh mine
His voice was smooth and steady, the kind of voice that gave you goosebumps when you heard it.
What a surprise! That was my friend singing, and I find myself smiling as I take a couple of steps towards the stage.
Moon has never glowed this color
Hearts have never been this close
I've never been more certain
I will love you 'til we're old
Being a little closer to the stage, I realize he’s wearing something different than I usually see him in.
A navy button down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark pants. Handsome as ever, maybe a little more with the singing and the guitar.
I could listen to him singing like this every day.
Stop it. I try to push that thought away, that sounds weird. Still, I can’t keep my eyes off of him, watching as he reaches the chorus of the song.
Maybe the night holds a little hope for us dear.
This was a very sweet song he was singing. The kind you’d hear at a wedding reception. He smiles and closes his eyes occasionally as he sings through the chorus.
Maybe we might want to settle down, just be near.
Stay together here.
A part of me hopes that he looks out so I can wave and let him know that I’m here.
Let him know that I was here cheering him on, but he doesn’t, instead seemingly more focused on performing. Silly me, that sounds too sappy.
I look around for half a second wondering if other people were catching what I was hearing, some stopping to listen.
Glad to see people enjoying this too.
My attention goes back to the stage, seeing Jackson glance down on his guitar, smiling as he does.
Jackson had a very special smile, the kind that reminded me of the Sun. Not because of how bright it is, but because of how it made me feel warm, like how it felt stepping into a patch of sunlight.
We follow the pull of fate, into this moment.
As he sings, I realize that I’ve never seen him this happy. I suppose he really just loved to play music.
With a voice like his, I wouldn’t blame him. He sounded flawless as the song swell and dipped with another round or two of the chorus of maybe the night holds a little hope for us dear.
It was very catchy, actually—I expect myself to have it stuck in my head later. I’d have to find it on Dotify too if it wasn’t an original song by him.
The song soon ends with a nice little strumming pattern that Jackson does that prolongs the last note from his guitar, and I wonder if he’s done this before. He laughs a bit before he steps back to talk with the other instrumentalists.
Earlier I wasn’t sure if it was the drumbeat I could hear in my ears or my heartbeat, but with the song over I didn’t realize my heart was beating so fast. I still feel myself smiling nonetheless as I immediately start clapping from my part of the room.
I probably looked silly being the only one clapping, but that performance was definitely worthy of it.
I feel a little bubble in my chest that makes me cup my hands and yell, “Encore!”
That catches Jackson’s attention, looking away from the other instrumentalist as he looks over to me and from here- even I could catch his surprise and the flickering smile on his face before he puts his guitar on the stand and hops off the stage, headed to my direction.
I immediately smile as I move halfway, still clapping excitedly.
“I thought you’d be in full ball preparation right now.” he says.
“You underestimate my ability to change into full Princess-mode, Mister Graham.” I laugh lightly. I’d be preparing right now if I could figure which dress to wear. That’s a problem for future Missy.
I make a gesture to him, wanting to direct the conversation back to what I just witnessed. I could still hear my heartbeat in my ears.
“You sound great! I mean, you all sound great! But you,” I pause, trying to find the right words, “you sound amazing.”
“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” He chuckles softly. “A sound check for this evening.”
“I didn’t know you were performing tonight.” I comment, but still very surprised about this fact. “Do you always perform during big palace events?”
“I—well, I haven’t in a couple of years.” He says before pausing very briefly, before his face lights up again.
I almost impulsively ask him why, but he clears his throat and I decide not to.
“Though I kind of wish you’d heard me for the first time later tonight.”
I can’t even imagine how good he was gonna perform tonight. He was a natural. Imagine him playing in front of a crowd of finely dressed people, him looking handsome in a suit.
“I’m glad that you’ve decided to play this time around. If that’s how you sound during a sound check, I can’t wait to hear you play later. You’ll be playing more songs, right?”
I ask that because a tiny part of me would want to hear him sing a little more than one song.
Jackson shakes his head. “Just the one. They have quite the lineup this evening.”
He sticks a hand in his pocket and gestures with his free hand to the stage where the instruments are set up, my eyes following.
“Even Wylan is playing something.” He says, and I’m surprised again. Is everyone here a secret musician? “You’ll have a wonderful evening.”
Hearing that makes me smile, the way he’s looking at me warmly makes me smile a tiny bit wider.
“A night full of festivities, great music,” I eye him at that part, “and dancing? Oh it’s so nice to finally attend a big party that I don’t have to plan.” I giggle.
He laughs a bit, “I have no doubt your events are just as great as this one will be.”
I hum, he’s not wrong.
“The only difference being that this one has a bigger budget.” I chuckle at that thought, most likely sure that the royal family was sparing no expense for tonight’s event. It was independence day after all. The ball was going to be full of important guests—and if it was anything close to the debutante balls I’ve planned before it was gonna be full of merrymaking, drinks, and dancing.
Dancing. I suddenly feel myself quiet down. I should ask him for a dance. Not very Belt Belle of me to ask first though. Grammy would chastise me for doing this.
Um… sorry Grammy.
“Say... would you save me a dance later, after you perform your set?” I try to sound friendly, like a friend just asking a friend for a dance. Not in the romantic sense of course. But slow dancing with Jackson doesn’t sound bad either.
Maybe if I’m lucky they wouldn’t play a slow song and I could maybe just do Renegade or some other Toktik dance. But yes, a dance with Jackson sounded nice.
Jackson seems to swallow, “Really?”
“Of course!” I nod, “That is if you like dancing… of course…” I wince, my choice of words sounding way too weird with that repetition. I normally don’t do that.
“No, I do. I’ll even save you two dances.” A pleased smile appears on his face, and I catch the smidge of surprise underneath it. Why does he seem so surprised that I’m asking this?
The thought of two dances sounds lovely. I grin and raise my hand to stick my pinky finger up in the air.
“Two dances, that’s a promise, Mister Jackson Graham.” I meet his eyes, actually feeling more excited for the ball more than ever.
“Dances with the loveliest lady in the room, I’m sure.”
With the loveliest lady in the room…
“Ah—” My brows raise as I let out a sound I didn’t even plan on making.
Was he being serious? My face starts to feel warm, well not just my face anymore—my whole body felt warm.
My eyes go to my pinky finger. Should I still hold it up right now? Did he just call me pretty? Why did he just say that. Oh my gosh, Melissa. Oh my gosh, Jackson.
I don’t know what my face looks like right now, but it’s enough to make Jackson chuckle a little nervously.
“Yes, um... there’ll be plenty of chances. I’ll come find you then.” He says before I watch him reach up to loop is pinky finger with mine, squeezing just a bit.
I find myself nodding, trying to reel myself back and bring my good sense back to me. I curl my lips in and try to control my expression as our hands go down.
“I’ll make sure that it would be hard for you to miss me.” I pause. It still felt warm around here. I could hear my heartbeat again. Guess this was my cue to go.
I tilt my head to one of the doors, “I should be getting ready then.”
I just needed a little air.
Maybe they just haven’t turned the air conditioning here yet. Yes, that must be why. We love an eco-conscious palace that saves energy that way.
“Good luck. Not that you need it.” He smiles softly.
Maybe the drummer was actually just practicing somewhere at the back. We love musicians who practice a lot. That must be what I’m hearing right now.
I try to laugh at that remark, shaking my head. “See you later, Jackson.”
I turn on my heel and start walking towards the door. I should be getting ready, yes. If I could only decide which dress to choose.
An idea pops into my head, and call out Jackson’s name, not completely turning to his direction.
“Jackson! Green or blue?!”
If I couldn’t decide what to wear, might as well let fate choose. Or well, Jackson in my case. This was just like tossing a coin to figure this out. Completely harmless.
He says, “Blue.”
I tilt my head at his answer. It’s set then.
Blue, almost lilac, it is.
I lift a shoulder up before turning to Jackson and give him a final wave in his direction, smiling in his direction. “Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome, Missy.” I hear him say and I wait until I’m out of the Great Hall before I let out a breath and place a hand over my chest.
The Great Hall’s air conditioning was on.
The drummer was taking a break, no one was onstage.
Still, I felt light— more excited actually.
Maybe I was just too excited for tonight, seeing the Great Hall decorated must have just made me more excited than I was before.
That’s what I tell myself as I start walking back to my room. That’s what I’d like to believe.
As I walk back, I can’t help but sing to myself.
Maybe the night holds a little hope for us, dear.
Jackson’s song was indeed stuck in my head, and maybe not just his song.
#miss jackson#missy duthe#missy fics#((Melissa Duthe is a simp periodt))#((does she even know that she's crushing on Jackson#((she doesn't even realize it))#((but that girl is a goner))#((jackson singing tho huh))
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Challenge #2
aka The Fic Where Arin Gets Stuck With Missy In An Inescapable Location (voluntarily) and it goes bad
a/n: just had to churn this fic out BHJNJSDBJD and all I can say is... Missy sweetie, I’m sorry.
Thank you Anna @arin-schreave for this monster of an RP,,, it be spicy JSDKNDJKDN AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA #arinschreaveisoverparty and the other thing I’d like to say is watch out for the next fic ;))))))) (5968 words)
I didn’t know this was going to be the worst first date I’ve ever had.
A note was sent to my room sometime in the afternoon while I was out for a walk in the greenhouse again.
It was a note asking me to meet Arin Schreave at the docks by noon the next day.
It was my first date with Arin Schreave.
I didn’t sleep at all that night, whatever feelings started clouding my head refused to go away, even at the dead of night.
Still, I was determined to show up at the docks, early, give my best smile and hopefully have a nice first date.
From the note, I guessed we were gonna go on a boat for this one. Why else would Arin ask me to meet him at the dock? So I dressed in one of my nicer beach dresses, the kind you save for the nice kind of beach side weddings.
It wasn’t difficult to find the docks, having just asked my maids and a few guards along the way if I was taking the right path down from the palace. It was a good fifteen minute walk to really prepare myself for it, or whatever awaited me at the dock.
Apparently what awaited me was a boat and Arin Schreave on the said boat with a couple of baskets in his hands. We were going on a boat.
I wave my hand, still too far to be heard, but I pick up the pace and get there with a smile. The sound of the water growing as I approached.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Schreave.”
Arin turns around and nods to me, “Good afternoon, Melissa.”
I watch as he gets off the boat and walks over to the dock, and holds his hand out to me. “I hope you’re alright with boats and water.”
“Well, if it’s between you and me, I don’t actually know how to swim.” I reply, pretty sure that I should tell him that first. Just in case. Nonetheless, I had a swimsuit in my bag just in case there were any plans to do anything close to the water.
I give him a smile, trying to make light of my lack of swimming skills. “but it’s not the first time I’ve been on a boat so I wouldn’t worry about it.” I let myself laugh just a little before taking Arin’s hand to get onto the boat. “How are you today?”
“I’m alright, it’s nice to get our of the palace.” Arin replies before letting go of my hand once I’m on the boat.
“That’s good to hear.” I look around the boat. It was one of those small yachts, more than just a boat. I look around, seeing a small kitchenette that lead to where the controls must have been. My eyes go back to Arin. He walks over to one of the deck’s seats and lifts up the cushion and taking out a bright yellow life vest and walks back to hold it out to me.
“Safety first.”
I take the vest, and slip it on. “I have to say though, the vest doesn’t quite match my outfit.” Laughing to myself just a little as I glance over to my reflection on a nearby window. It would have to do for now.
“Yes well, if you fall overboard I don’t think anyone would be concerned about you were wearing.” He says before motioning for me to come into the covered part of the boat.
“May I ask?” I turn back to Arin, “Do you usually get to do this kind of stuff? Get out of the palace, I mean.”
Arin turns to me from where he walked over to, looking like he was ready to pick up a glass.
“I’m sure if I really wanted to I could but recently I haven’t had the time. That being said, I wouldn’t mind more non work related outings.”
“Fair point,” I nod before following him over to the kitchen portion of the boat, “Glad to hear that you don’t actually think of this as a work-related outing. Anything I can help with?”
“Technically I guess it is.” He says before holding up an empty glass and wiggles it in the air for emphasis. “I’ve got it all under control. What can I get you to drink?”
I look at the glass for a moment, considering what I wanted. Did he mean… like a drink… or like… a drink-drink? I settle on the former.
“Would you consider me lame if I asked for water?” I feel a little sheepish asking for that, despite being surrounded by tons of it.
Arin gives me a confused look, “Why do you ask?” he bends down to pull a water pitcher from the fridge and filling the glass, holding it out to me.
“Thank you.” I blink, taking the glass from him. “It’s nothing. I just… usually get violent reactions about… always asking for water.”
I roll my eyes at an old memory, someone always insisting that I’d probably like other drinks if I didn’t just keep on drinking water all the time. Come on Missy, don’t you drink anything else?
“Well…” Arin trails off before walking up to the helm of the ship to grab a glass, quickly returning with a glass half full of water. “I did say safety first and I meant it.” He raises an eyebrow at me.
I take a sip from my own water, and raise my eyebrow back at him.
“Didn’t quite expect safety first to mean that.” I say before shaking my head with a small laugh.
“What did you think I meant?” he takes a sip as well, giving me a curious look.
I gesture to the bright yellow life vest, the one that was complete tacky with my dress, clearing my throat. “This?” I let another a laugh out before looking over to the water.
“Is this boat headed anywhere in particular?” I hold my glass to my lips.
Arin nods. “Everyone has to be safe aboard L’etoile de mer. Those are the rules.” He sets his glass down on the counter. “We can go anywhere you like.”
L’etoile de mer. I think I knew what it meant.
I furrow my brows, “This boat is called The Starfish?”
He nods, “Yeah, it is.”
I think I catch him smile slightly at that.
Well… this was going pretty smoothly.
“Sounds a little different from how they say it back in Orleans.” I muse, while looking over to him. There was a local restaurant with the same exact name, Starfish themed decorations all over the walls. “El-toiLe day Mare.” I say it, emphasizing how we pronounced it over in Orleans.
“You speak French?” He raises his eyebrows when I say it.
“Conversational Louisiana French,” I bobble my head, smiling to him. “Kind of the broken more localized version of it back in Orleans. Didn’t quite put it in my application since I thought y’all were gonna quiz me on it or something.”
Couldn’t quite say that I was fluent in it, because I didn’t quite know how to write it. More like phrases and expressions passed down generations of natives of Orleans. Not the fancy un deux trois they’d teach you in schools.
I laugh to myself at that thought, looking back to Arin.
“Oh,” his face turns into a slight frown, “Honestly? I didn’t actually read through any of the applications.” He tenses at the end of that sentence.
I instinctively raise a brow, “So you didn’t really know anything about me when we met?” I add a smile, making sure to let him know I wouldn’t feel offended if he said that.
“Nothing. Why? Should I go back and read it?” he crosses his arms.
So he didn’t know… much other than my name… Well, this was a good opportunity to introduce myself again.
“No need to, I can summarize it myself.” I clear my throat and straighten my back.
“Hi, I'm Melissa, Missy for short. I'm 20, I plan and coordinate weddings for a living in Orleans. I only read and write in one language and that's English.” I try to wrack my brain for anything else I placed in that old application I filled out more than a month ago. “Huh, I think that’s everything on the form.”
A part of me thanks whoever made that form for not including past relationships.
Arin nods, “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any application to summarize for you. But I’m sure Joogle would tell you all the same stuff and more.”
Come on, Arin… I was throwing you a bone to talk about yourself. I always thought I was good at conversing with other people, and well, this was an easy way to get to know other people.
“Joogle talks about facts, not exactly what a person is like when you’re face to face with ‘em.” I sip from my water, sending him a curious look.
“Facts are important.” He gives me a pointed look. “Facts tell you the truth without caring about people’s feelings. I’m sure Joogle could give you much more straight answers about me than I ever could.”
Is.. he not used to talking about himself?
“Alright,” I look to him, still feeling a little hurt at that pointed look. “I guess I can Joogle something like, ‘what are things that make Arin Schreave smile?’”
Maybe I used the wrong tone for that. It was a joke to get him to lighten up a little bit.
Instead, I got the opposite.
“And unfortunately for you, you’d find out I’m too serious for my own good and I don’t know how to have a good time.” He stares back at me for a moment. Then he picks up his water, downing his water and setting it down with a clink.
I set my glass down.
That was… cold. My Grammy told me, if someone seemed like there was a thorn in their sides, it was always better to ask if they were doing alright. No matter what, trust your gut when it seems like something was wrong with someone. Ask them if they were alright.
It seemed like there was something worry about at what he said. Maybe… he was feeling stressed over something. What could possibly go wrong when you ask someone if they are alright?
“Arin…” my brows furrow, “Do you need to get something off your chest? Someone to talk to?”
I think I made a mistake asking him that.
All he did was let out a sardonic chuckle.
“Missy, all I need right now is for us to get this date over with. I don’t need a babysitter.”
Missy, all I need right now is for us to get this date over with. I don’t need a babysitter.
I suck in a breath. Jeez, that hurt. Even on a boat and in a life vest, there was a sinking feeling in my chest, and I couldn’t stop my hands from wringing each other.
“At least you’re really straightforward.” I reply, wanting to say more. I wanted to tell him… something, but I didn’t know what to say.
Get this date over… so he didn’t want to be here…
So much for making a great impression during our first date. So much for actually having a chance of staying.
“Thank you for being honest.” I think I started feeling a lump form in my throat.
Arin shrugs then steps away from the counter.
“We should get going.”
He watches me for a moment before turning and walking to the helm, out of my sight for now.
I try to take another breath, trying to wish that dreadful feeling from my chest and throat. This sinking feeling. This lump in my throat. I reach up to swipe at my eyes, getting rid of the tears starting to form there. No one likes people who cry.
Come on, not all hope is lost.
Jackson told me that Arin was kind, this was just a bump in the road. A misunderstanding.
I take another moment to breathe, to regain my composure, making sure not to feel bad for myself, or at what he said before following him to the helm.
He was going around, turning switches on, the motor of the boat coming to life. It took another moment before he glances over to me.
“I need to cast us off.”
I try to move out of his way when he passes by me to get to the other end of the boat to do… whatever casting us off meant.
If he just wanted to get this over with… did he still want to talk?
Asking him if he was alright was off the table, or maybe personal questions in general.
I try to think up of a plan to get him to still talk to me, maybe it just takes some time for him to warm up to people.
I’m left to think about it for a long time, just watching him work around the boat. Pulling and tying up ropes, and carrying what he called buoys to other places on the boat. Not once talking to me… he was just busy with the boat. I tell myself.
But I hated it when I felt like someone was upset and I couldn’t talk to them. So when it seemed like he wasn’t busy steering/driving the boat in the captain’s seat, I tried to make another attempt to talk to him.
“Do you uh… boat often?” I ask, my left hand still fiddling with my ring.
Arin glances between me and the water, continuing to drive.
“Not really anymore. But when I was a kid we used to do this all the time.”
“You and the entire royal family?” I lift a brow at him. I should stop fiddling with my ring.
“Mostly us kids, my mom, and my grandpa.”
I try to talk to him more about it, trying to get him to talk about his family some more but… that conversation went nowhere. Literally nowhere, his attention seeming more focused on steering the boat, or pushing one of the levers that made the boat move faster.
Without meaning to, my hand grabbed the edge of his seat to steady myself. “Whoa there,” I stop myself from laughing, this was getting ridiculous, and I didn’t know what to do to actually keep this going.
Arin glances up at me, and takes a breath. “Sorry, I can go slower.”
“Thank you,” I let go of the seat, and fixing my footing so I wouldn’t topple over at the boat’s movement. “There should be more seat belts ‘round here.”
I suddenly felt the boat slow down, Arin looking over to me in confusion.
“Seatbelts?”
“I mean, what if… the boat was going really fast and suddenly stopped? Whoever was in the boat could be… thrown forwards. Just a thought really, when you said ‘safety first’.” I shake my head, dismissing the idea in my head. “It’s nothing. Just a thought.”
The boat seemed have slowed down some more.
“Well,” he seems to have hesitated before saying that, “if the boat suddenly stopped that would probably mean we’d hit something and in that scenario being thrown around could be dangerous, yes, but if something is defective with the seatbelt and can’t get unbuckled…”
I let my lips form a line, and nod.
“Another… unfortunate way to go if ever… that happens. But what’s the likelihood of that happening, right? Well both of those things.” I cross my arms to wrap them around myself.
The boat seems to have made a complete stop.
“We can go back if you want.” He says with a concerned look.
“No it’s alright. You said that you wanted to uh… get this over. Let’s just do this the way you planned it.” I try to give him a small smile, despite feeling uncomfortable. “I’m alright.”
This was fine, just… really awkward… not the way I planned things to go.
Arin shakes his head, “We don’t have to stay out here, Melissa. You aren’t obligated.”
I let out a breath, trying to just try to make the best out of this situation.
“Listen… I was pretty excited to go on this date. Though it hasn’t quite started out the way I would have wanted, I’m not exactly… assuming that this date is already a disaster and a hopeless case.” I lift a shoulder, before adding, “Sorry for trying to pry earlier.”
Maybe he just didn’t want to keep on talking about himself… which completely destroys the idea of a first date… but…
“You an be excited, no one is stopping you. And yes this is technically a date but…” he cuts himself off.
“But…?” I keep eye contact, trying to be as serious as I could be. “Arin, I don’t want to mince words here.”
That’s where I went wrong before. I needed to know what was going on in that head of his so I could adjust.
“You can’t pretend like we just ran into each other getting coffee and I thought you were smart and cute and asked you out.” I watch him leans back in his seat, before meeting my eyes.
I nod at what he says, trying to understand what he meant to say.
“And yet, circumstance has brought us here nonetheless.” I reach up to rub my neck, while looking away. “I understand... this isn’t... the most traditional way to be on a date with someone. Trust me, I do.”
I think I would have taken the coffee shop option any day, but a part of me felt still clung to the idea of this being the fairytale romance I wanted a second chance with.
I try to make light of this situation again, “If it’s any consolation, I probably would have been the one to ask you out because I thought you were smart and cute.”
Sometimes I hate what comes out of my mouth.
All Arin does is shift uncomfortably and looks straight ahead, taking a deep breath.
I sigh to myself at that, “Sorry, I’ll just… stop talking now and try to not make this any worse.”
I wonder if they were going to let me keep some of my dresses when Arin was going to send me home tomorrow.
Silence. All there is silence from him until he turns to me again.
“Do you like fruit?”
I blink at that, nodding slowly.
“Of course I like fruit. I’m uh… vegan.”
“Okay.” He nods, “We have fruit.”
“Thank you.” I nod back. “Uh, what kind of fruit?”
“Um… they’re in the fridge.” He says before awkwardly standing up to look at me.
Oh thank God, an excuse to get out of here for a bit.
“That’s nice.” I take a step back, “Mind if I check it out?”
“Go for it… I’ll just keep an eye out for other boats…” He’s still standing in place.
“Other boats… Okie dokie, I’ll just be… in the kitchenette.” I take a few steps before wondering if he needed anything. “Do you want anything from there?”
“Uh huh.”
“Um okay? What can I get you?”
“Sounds great!”
He wasn’t listening, I look over to see him crouching from where he was and hiding. He was probably on his phone.
A part of me wanted to be anywhere else. Anywhere else but here, but I was here and I had no where to go.
I move over to the fridge, trying to think of ways to make the best out of this. There had to be something good to come out of this.
Arin is kind, remember that above all things.
He just needed time to warm up…. At least… I thought so.
“What would Grammy do?” I mumble to myself, crouching down to the open fridge door, grabbing some apples and oranges.
Grammy would probably have pushed him off the boat, if he was a normal boy. This wasn’t a normal date, and Arin wasn’t a normal boy. Plus, I’m pretty sure, his bodyguard was somewhere we couldn’t just see him.
I couldn’t do anything but grin and bear this. I signed up for this after all.
Suddenly, I hear the door open and I tense. I signed up for this. My eyes grab a few more fruits before setting them all on the counter. From the corner of my eye, I see him sitting down on the seats close to the edge of the boat’s open area.
“Arin, are there any knives I can use to slice these fruits up?”
Just the sound of the waves.
“Arin?” I call again, to no response. Well I guess I wasn’t going to slice these up. I decide to just wash what I could and dry them before putting the fruits I got on a platter I saw close to the sink, and head over to him at the deck.
“Hey… uh, you didn’t say which fruit you wanted, so I just… brought uh… a sample of each one that was in the fridge.”
He seems to look up in surprise as I walk over.
“Oh… I…” he looks around before looking back to me. “Anything is fine.”
“Okie dokie,” I nod my head.
“I’ll just…” I place the platter on a nearby table close to him, “leave this here.” I curl my lips in before reaching to pick up the sole orange and find a seat not too far from him, but enough space for a bob sled team.
“So… what did you have planned…?” I ask, taking my seat.
He takes his time to look at me for a good moment. Were all my conversations with him going to be this awkward?
“Honestly? I didn’t have a plan. I’m not really someone who dates.”
The boat just sways slightly as the ocean moves the boat ever so slightly up and down.
I just nod at that, my hands peeling my orange. “Same here. I mean… huh… it’s just been a while.”
It’s been seven years, actually. That felt like a lifetime ago. I shake my head remembering that, bringing a piece of the orange to my mouth to shut myself up.
“Well, then at least we’re in the same boat.” He says before going silent, then chuckling out of nowhere.
I try to not laugh, stifling my own laughter. I didn’t even know if I was allowed to laugh around his presence.
“In more ways than one, I suppose.” I eat another orange slice, nodding once. If he only knew.
Except I didn’t act like a stick in the mud after my fiancé left me.
“Boat for boat?”
“Hm?” I turn to him, slightly confused with what he said. “Sorry I didn’t quite catch what… you said.” More of what he meant.
Arin waves it off and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He says before running his hands through his hair.
“So you like oranges?”
Why was he asking me all these fruit related questions? Well… talking about fruits was something.
“They’re fun to peel.” I nod slowly before lifting my orange peel, staying in one piece.
“But so are bananas.” He raises an eyebrow at me, leaning over to grab and pick up a banana.
“So you prefer bananas?” I ask, eating another orange.
Bananas… were alright… I suppose.
Good with ice cream.
“The have potassium and you’re less likely to choke.” He says before beginning to peel the banana.
What orange fact did I know??
I lift a piece of my orange, “Fiber and Vitamin C. The peels are nice to turn into candy too.”
“All fruits have their merits.” He then sinks back into the cushions of his seat.
“Yes they all do.”
That was my third… fourth? Conversation that went nowhere.
I look out to the water, finishing my orange, my hands going back to fiddle with my ring. This was nice… the set up… but… it seemed like a logistical nightmare.
“I have a question.” I say out loud.
“Hm?” Arin’s eyes are still closed when he says that, taking a bite and chewing slowly.
“Why’d you choose a boat ride for our ‘date’? I mean… was it… randomized?” I tilt my head, how am I supposed to phrase this. “I’m just… curious with what the logistics behind this whole… process is like.”
Arin opens his eyes, finally looking over to me, blinking at the sun’s brightness “I didn’t pick it, it was picked for me. So I don’t really have an answer for you on how or why.”
I feel my brows furrow when he says that.
“So that’s why you’d wanna get this over…”
I suppose I was just another name to check of whatever list they had.
“No,” he says, eyeing me cautiously. “I said I wanted to get it over because there’s no point in treating this like it’s a normal date.” His eyes glance down to the banana in his hand. “But for what it’s worth, the boat was a nice touch. I’ve got to hand it to them.”
Easy for him to say that.
“So how do you want to approach this then?” I prop my head on my arm, looking over to him. “An extended lunch meeting?”
I think I wanted this date to be over more than he did, but I still badly wanted to stay… in the Selection. But this Selection wasn’t the fairytale I was hoping it to be.
“We could, but something tells me that’s not you want.” He looks back to me, and raises his brows.
Oh he was concerned with what I wanted know.
“From what I reckon, the two of us had very different expectations from this.” I lift my shoulders and dust my hands. “I’d rather negotiate with how we’re going to go about this ‘date’, just to make sure I’m on the same page as you are.”
I felt tired, having to play mental gymnastics trying to make sure things were going well. Might as well ask him what he was expecting to manage my own.
“So then, negotiate.” An amused but expectant look appears on his features before he takes another bite of his banana.
I can’t believe I was actually making negotiations about this date… during the date itself.
“Alright,” I clasp my hands on the table in front of me. “So do you want me to avoid all personal questions? You definitely seem like I touch a nerve every time I seem to ask a question about you.”
Literally… every personal question ended up at a dead end, or him having snapped at me.
“I don’t see how you could possibly do that.” He finishes his banana and chews it, looking like he was thinking something over.
“Well I could try.” I argue with a sigh, wracking my brain. Saying the first thing to pop up in my head. “Do aliens exist? What’s wrong but sounds right?”
All I get is a look from Arin, as if I was insane.
“You want to talk about aliens? Really?”
He stands up.
I try to not groan.
“It’s better than nothing. Are you gonna try to dismiss every single thing I try to suggest to you?” I meet his eyes, wanting to say some more choice words, feeling myself tense.
“What do you want from me, Melissa?”
For the nth time, people call me Missy. Could he stop calling me Melissa?
I feel my brows knit.
“I don’t even know what I really want from this, from you.” I admit, blinking a couple of times. I didn’t know what I wanted from this anymore, now that I’m here.
I came here because I wanted to fall in love with someone again.
I stand from my seat, and head over to one of the rails, leaning over to watch the water. Was it too much to ask for another chance?
I hear Arin move around, and I can’t help but not ignore my left hand twisting on my ring.
“What exactly were you hoping for? A whirlwind romance?”
I just wanted to feel the butterflies in my stomach firsthand again. I missed… that kind of happiness.
The attention of the Selection felt good at first.
Daniel must be kicking himself. I heard my mama say to me one day after my name was announced.
The only person kicking themselves right now was me.
I think I wanted to cry right now.
I turn to Arin, “Something like that, yes. Guess fairytales about this whole Selection thing just really do stay in those books.”
I grew reading about the previous Selections, almost knowing the names of every girl who was picked as The One in the Selections past. I studied them since people wanted weddings like those.
America, Alize, Annelise, Eloise, Danielle. They all seemed happy in their wedding pictures.
“I think you mean fairytales in general.” I hear Arin step closer, and I catch him shove his hands in his pockets from the corner of my eyes.
“Between you and me, I thought this was my second chance with the whole fairytale schtick.” I shake my head, the thought of Arin and fairytale romance? The more time I spent with him, the more those words disassociated themselves from each other.
“Well then, it seems like you and I are very different people.”
I think out loud, “Surround yourself with happy couples on the road to happily ever after every day.” I lift my shoulders.
For all the secondhand butterflies I’ve had from weddings, there was always the tiniest pang of jealousy. I could have had a day like that. Why didn’t I deserve to be that happy?
Maybe a part of Arin wondered that too.
I wait a quiet moment and debate if I should ask Arin something about his own expectations out of this.
“What do you want out of this, then?” I look to him. This date was already going up in flames, might as well try my best to make sense of it, and this whole Selection experience. “I mean this whole Selection.”
“Nothing.”
Nothing.
He wanted nothing.
For someone who had a say in this, that was a pretty sad answer.
I wait for a beat before I nod my head once.
“You’re less likely to be disappointed then.” I reply, pushing back some of my stray hair blown by the breeze.
“Maybe you’re right. But I think I’ve only been disappointed more.” He says walking to the railing to my right and leaning against it.
I move a little to give him some space, but look over to him.
“Even without expectations, this isn’t exactly how you thought this was gonna turn out, huh?”
I wondered what he genuinely expected out of this? Make his ex jealous? Find a rebound?
“This was never part of the plan.” His eyes stay on the water as he says that, looking like he’s thinking. I leave him to his thoughts so I could go over my own.
With what he’s been saying… with how’s been acting towards me… it made me really question: What was his plan…
“This was my grandpa’s boat.”
“Was King Raja the one who named this the L’Etoile de Mer?” I ask.
Arin looks to me, “No, he wasn’t. I never really knew him. I mean my mom’s dad.” His eyes go back to the water.
“Do you wish you knew him?” My eyes don’t leave the water either when I ask that.
He stays still for a moment before he shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”
I nod my head at that. “Then it’s not much of a loss on your end.”
The idea of not knowing your grandparents was sad… at least if it was me.
“I was mostly raised by my grandparents. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without them.” I share, while we were on the topic. I mean I was raised by my mama and daddy too, but they had me when they were young.
Grammy and Pappy felt... more like parents to me.
“Well, then yours were much better people than mine were.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I wanted to ask why it seemed like that to him when he was the one who brought up his grandfather.
We’re back to our regularly scheduled silence in between conversations, until I see him move away. Maybe he was going over to the controls to bring us back. No, he was staying in one place.
I turn to him, before I realize that he was actually unbuttoning his shirt.
“Oh,”
I feel heat rise to my face, and I turn back to facing the water. For good measure, I place my hand to cover my peripheral vision from seeing him. “Uh, sorry.”
“I forgot.”
“Well, uh?” I blink, peeking to see him having dropped his hands to his side. The heat from my face not going away. “Is it safe to swim around here?”
“It should be. Why? Are you worried I might feed you to the sharks?” I see his brows raise at me.
“For all I know, that’s how you plan on eliminating me.” I look over the water again. If he was going to insist on swimming around these parts. “Can you teach me… how to swim…?”
“I promise you that I didn’t murder anyone who has been sent home so far.” His fingers go back to his buttons. “I’m sorry?”
My eyes widen before spinning on my heel to turn back to the water.
“Sorry.” I cover my line of sight to his direction again with my hand. “I suppose I’ll just float with this on… if ever.” Was he really going to swim? In OPEN water?
“You can learn how to swim but I don’t think the open ocean is the place to start.”
I snap my fingers with my free hand, “Fair point.” My other hand was still up to cover myself from seeing him. “Sorry we can’t go swimming right now.”
“Who knows, maybe there was a hugry shark down there and you just saved us both from being eaten.”
I peek over to him, was that… the hint of a genuine smile?
“Safety first on the L’Etoile De Mer, right?” I reply, still eyeing him… and that smile.
He laughs, “Well in less than a day you’ve already learned something my mom hasn’t learned in 50 years.”
I give him a look, sort of weirded out at him laughing.
“And that is?”
“That safety is very important.”
I can’t help but let a laugh out at that.
“Hard to believe that your mother wouldn’t think of safety as important.”
Arin blinks at that. “I’m guessing you haven’t met her yet.” He says before looking out to the water again.
I shake my head. “She’s away, isn’t she? Some tour abroad, right?”
“Oh,” Arin frowns, “I meant my mom. I don’t call the queen mom.”
Oh…
I look away in my embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. I thought... you called both of them... I mean... your mom and the queen... uh... mom. Sorry.”
That was… a stupid assumption.
“No, the queen isn’t mom.” Arin explains as he leans back against the railing. “Mom is the princess.”
“Duly noted.” I reply, mentally kicking myself
A massive sigh comes from Arin.
I sigh mentally to myself. This date couldn’t already get any worse.
I was almost certain I was going home soon, and the only bright side to it was that I wouldn’t have any more painfully awkward conversations like this with Arin Schreave.
#selectionoc#selection oc#melissa duthe#missy fics#arin tag#((i think I can truly say that Arin Schreave does not deserve any rights BJSNJKDNKSDJK HE MADE MISSY CRY))#((there are more tears in the next fic too bro it was a rough date))
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Challenge #1.5
aka The Fic Where Arin Gets Stuck With Missy In An Inescapable Location (accidentally)
a/n: weirdly specific title, but It’ll make sense when I post Challenge 2, I promise AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA This was a really fun RP and fic to write, though it was slightly difficult what with the lack of visual cues in terms of writing,,, that’s what happens when you set something in the dark. ANYWHOS, thank you Anna @arin-schreave for this RP and for running with my crackhead ideas NJKSDNDKJD Anywhos, hope you enjoy this funny little fic ,,, also I promise everything about the ring ™™™™ will be revealed soon SJKNDKJKD (2,684 words)
For a place that was twenty times the size of my own home back in Orleans, I was running out of things I could do in the palace. I was so desperate, I was actually in the library of all places.
Sure, there were the regular Women’s Room lessons for the day but we usually ended whatever was the day’s lessons early. Against the usual urge to scroll through my phone, learning a Tiktok dance in a gown wasn’t exactly the easiest. Doing the renegade was going to wait for a more casual day in the palace.
So I was in the library, browsing the bookcases and jeopardizing my poor immune system to some allergic rhinitis around these books.
There were a few books with interesting titles: The Creativity Crisis, 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Business Process Re-engineering in Illéa to name a few.
The title that catches my attention though had a green spine, lined with gold. Embroidery Patterns from America. Huh, you don’t hear that name everyday. I could check it out and show it to my maids. Maybe try it out and do them myself on a dress I have.
I reach up for the book, extending my arms above me. I lean against the case for some support as I reach for it. It seemed stuck on the shelf though, not seeming to fully budge out of its place.
I try to pull it again, suddenly feeling the case slide open. Huh?
The next thing I know, I’m on the ground of a dark hallway and hearing the case slide close behind me, and the light leave the entire space. Oh no.
Where was I?
Why was it so dark? Oh Gosh, the floor felt like it hasn’t seen a vacuum cleaner in a decade.
I couldn’t make out where I was exactly, but it was dusty and smelled like one of those old historical houses in Orleans tourists would visit all the time
I try to look around and feel for the way I came through.
“Hello!” my voice seems to echo in the space. Maybe if I kept on yelling someone could get me outta here. “Help!”
“Can anyone help me?!” I yell again, hoping someone passing by the case would hear me. I try banging against the wall, sounding almost hollow. It sounded like wood.
“Hello!” I call out again. Please someone GET ME OUT OF HERE.
I keep on trying to yell to get anyone to realize I was trapped here. Was this… a dungeon? Did the palace keep prisoners here? Oh Gosh, I was going to get stuck here. Questions later. I needed to get outta here.
A knock.
I’m saved! I could kiss whoever was going to get me out of here. Or not, cause that sounded like treason.
“Hello! Is someone else there?!” Please get me out of here ASAP, I’m pretty sure there are spiders here.
“This isn’t funny. I don’t care if Ayesha put you up to it, knock it off.”
Are you flipping kidding me? Who the hell was Ayesha?
“Uh… I can’t quite knock it off!” I feel something crawl along my feet and like any normal person… I scream. “I REALLY DON’T LIKE IT IN HERE! PLEASE I JUST FELL THROUGH THE WALL!”
“Really the jig is up.” I hear shuffling from the other side. Did they really just???
“This ain’t no dance sweetheart! PLEASE JUST HELP ME GET OUTTA HERE! I THINK THERE ARE SpidE-ERS!” I feel something crawl across my feet and I pound my fist against the wall again, “THIS ISN’T A JOKE! HELP!”
Silence.
It was quiet from the other side. Did…. They…. Just…. Leave me here?
I bang my fists against the wall again. “Hello?! HELLO???? HELLOOOOOOO!!!”
Footsteps sound like they’re fading away. Oh no, I was going to be trapped here forever. I didn’t even write a will yet. Oh Gosh, I haven’t even gotten married yet. I was gonna get trapped in this weird dark hallway for the rest of my life.
No. If no one was going to get me out of here, I was going to get myself out of here. The way my voice echoed meant that I was in a huge space. Maybe if I just… walked down?
And get even more lost?
Maybe if I—
I jump at the sudden motion of the wall. The wall in front of me suddenly gives way and opens, LIGHT. I see light…
“Hello…?”
“Oh thank sweet baby Jesus,” I say walking towards the opening, towards the light…
… and Arin Schreave.
I pick up my jaw from the floor before I quickly try to push some of my hair behind my ears. Oh of all times, Arin Schreave had to see me covered in dust bunnies? Not cute… AT ALL.
“ah… hello!”
Oh wow. This looked more like a hallway with a little more light shined on it… still very dusty.
The prince takes another step into this hallway, until I see the door starting to close behind him. I feel myself jump at the sound of the door shutting. Once again, the room was blanketed in darkness.
“Shit.”
“Nonononono!” I run back to where the door was, looking for something, anything, to get us out of here. Come on. All the escape room games have some kind of button to press. Maybe the prince knew something.
“Do these not open from this side…” MANNERS. “… your highness?”
“Uh…” I hear a sigh come from my right. “There’s a button somewhere around here but I don’t quite remember where.” So he did know something.
I hear a couple of steps grow louder from the direction of his voice, until I feel myself stumble backward. Did he just run into me? I reach for the wall to keep myself from toppling over. Oh. There was a hand on my waist.
“Oof, uh, sorry.” I try to move closer to the wall to avoid bumping into him. Why did it suddenly get so hot? Must be my allergies.
“No, that was my fault.” I could start making out his silhouette, moving close to the wall too. The hand around my waist was gone too.
I clear my throat, and push some of my hair back. Oh of all people to have heard me, it had to be Arin Schreave.
“I suppose you were the one on the other side of the wall I was talking to?”
“Uh, yes… I was… sorry I didn’t believe you.”
I wring my hands. I wouldn’t have believed this happened if it didn’t happen to me. “Well… whatever Ayesha may have pulled on you before… it must have been pretty bad for you to be this skeptical…”
A sigh. “I’m used to it.”
Thank God I was an only child.
Prince Arin goes silent for a moment before he says, “Just give me a minute to think?”
“Alrighty.” I suck in a breath and nod, going a little further down the wall. He said that there was a button around here. Maybe I could find it here. I try to run my hand through the wall, looking for an imperfection, a bump that could trigger the door to open.
“I think there’s a button on one of the wall, down by the floor.” I hear the prince speak up. I guess I was sort of right.
“Why would you put a switch down by the floor?” I ask. Well, there was nothing else I could do but crouch down and start feeling for it close to the floor. Ugh, all I could feel was the material of my dress pool to the ground. I try to push it away to try and keep on searching the wall.
“Not the way I thought I’d be spending this afternoon.” I laugh to myself. This was ridiculous.
“Trust me, I definitely didn’t plan for this.” I hear a sigh, “It’s near the floor so it doesn’t accidentally get pushed. It’ll feel like a small hole…”
I shake my head, hands still gliding through the wall, “Reasonable, but this is already a secret passageway. Not many people would press a button accidentally.”
I sneeze, “Oh wait.”
A small laugh from my left. “It’s uh… from when the country had rebels and the last thing you’d want to do is open one of these on accident if you were trapped inside.”
“Were rebels that much of a problem for you to have constructed these?” It had to be around here close to the door. “If I were a button… where would I be…”
“According to the history books I’ve read, yes. They were. But as a kid we used these tunnels during games of hide and seek.”
“I can tell from the dust, ” I sneeze on my elbow, “bunnies, that it’s probably been a long time since you played games here.” ACHOO! “And it’s been a while since rebels have attacked too, I guess.”
“Over 50 years… but I wouldn’t trust the dust bunnies. They could be harboring anti-monarchy sentiments.”
“Ah yes, rebellious dust bunnies. Practically planning anarchy through allergies and sticking onto your clothes unnecessarily.” I shake my head. I can’t believe this was my first conversation with the prince after meeting him… in a DARK, dusty, old, probably abandoned secret tunnel. ROMANTIC.
“They’re sneaky little buggers that make terrible pets.” I hear some shuffling from his side until I feel something bump into me.
“OOF!” I sneeze again into my elbow, before shuffling away from him. Come on Prince Arin, let’s practice some spatial awareness. “I just wanted to see some embroidery patterns. Who rigs a book of embroidery patterns to trigger a weird door?”
I sneeze, sitting up on the heels of my feet. I hate having allergies.
“Someone who doesn’t think embroidery is interesting I’m guessing.”
I lift a shoulder up, “Fair.”
I shake my head before going back to the wall and try feeling it for the button again. “It’s still fun though. Embroidery, I mean.”
“I don’t know much about it honestly.” I hear a grunt come from Arin.
ACHOO. “Just a needle and a thread honestly. That’s what my mama used to tell me.” I fumble through the wall, still looking for the button. “She used to be a seamtress before she married my dad.”
“Aha”
I hear a click before the door seems to slide open. Light. FRESH AIR.
“Oh thank God.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. I immediately stand up, albeit a bit wobbly, before I offer my hand to Arin.
He doesn’t take my hand, instead standing on his own and brushing off the dust from his pants. I tuck my hand in my other, dusting myself too.
His eyes then set on me. Oh I must look horrible. Of all times, it had to be a time where I didn’t look cute.
“Oh um… you have a little something right here.” He gestures to his head.
UGHHHHHH
“Oh,” I pat my head for whatever was there. “You also have um… what is… that…” I peer closer. It didn’t look like a speck of dust, it looked like it was moving. It had… legs?
“It’S A SPIDER.”
“oh!” I watch him quickly brush the spider off, but I watch as he swats it and gets accidentally flung at me.
I do what a normal would do in this situation.
I shriek, but I quickly swat it off my dress to the ground and running the HELL away from it. I then hear a small clinking sound. “Oh no…”
I look down to my right hand. My ring. It was gone.
Arin’s eyes follow the noise, he himself following after it to investigate.
Now this was awkward. I follow after where the sound stopped, where Arin bends down to look for the source.
“Um… I got it.” He seems to have found it, picking it up and straightens.
I step up to him and hold my palm open, “T-thank you. I can take this now.”
Oh great Melissa. Sure, a ring wasn’t going to give him any war flashbacks at all… or worse… make him start asking questions about it.
Arin clears his throat as he hands the ring to me. “Well, that’s not something you’d want to lose.”
“Nope,” I take the ring and slip it back on my right index finger. Why did I get it resized? That was a stupid decision, now it was way too big for any of my fingers. “It’s my Grammy’s ring.” I laugh slightly before looking back to him.
He nods. “Ah well… Maybe you should have it resized so you don’t lose it. Rings like that tend to be sentimental.”
It was sentimental, and trust me, it already has been resized.
I clench my right hand, making sure it wouldn’t slip off again.
“It doesn’t normally fall off, at least not all the time.” I tilt my head. “And yes, this one is really sentimental to me.”
I couldn’t bear to part with this piece.
“I can see that. It reminds me of my mom’s old wedding ring.” Arin says, and I notice him swallow nervously. “I just mean it’s pretty.”
I take a moment to blink at the wedding ring remark.
“Actually,” I laugh slightly. “this was my Grammy’s wedding ring.”
Grandpa said he saved for an entire year to buy her this ring. Back then, things weren’t so easy for them or his orchard.
I lift a shoulder, continuing. “It was my mom’s, and then it was passed down to me.” It was a thin gold band surrounded with little diamonds. No big jewel or anything. Just tiny little diamonds. Grandpa had some taste. I scrunch up my nose and breathe out a laugh. “Thank you… for calling it pretty.”
“Of course.” He nods a bit awkwardly before glancing to the door. “Did you want to get our of here?”
Oh right, I almost forgot.
“Yes, please.” I lift my skirt to move quicker to the door before it closed in on us again. I wasn’t gonna stuck in that room again. “Thank you again for helping me.”
ACHOO!
“Sorry for not believing you…”
Arin seems to follow behind me. As we both get out of the room, he shuts the door behind us. Good. I never wanted to see that tunnel again. Ever.
I lift a shoulder, “Easy mistake, I probably would have freaked out if I heard a voice from the other side of the wall and not believe that there was a secret hallway over there.” I gesture my head to the bookcase.
“Just try not to do it again.” A small smile appears on his face. He should smile more. “The dust bunnies might not be as friendly next time.”
“I’m more worried about the spiders.” ACHOO! “Might wanna ask a couple of maids to maybe spruce it up a bit, maybe add some nice lighting, maybe an exit sign inside.”
I end up sneezing again, can’t helping but laugh at the situation.
“There’re actually lights in there…”
“That could have been useful a couple of minutes ago.” I chuckle before ACHOO! “Well, that… was an adventure, but I think I need a hot shower to wash that hallway off.” Or a bubble bath, a bubble bath seemed nice.
I give Arin a quick curtsy with a smile, “Thank you again for getting me outta there, your highness.”
In turn, he gives me a smile and a nod. “Of course.” He gives me a bow. That’s.. a first. “I hope the rest of your day is better.”
To be honest, this… was actually fun. It was nice to get to interact with Arin.
“Have a nice day!” I nod once with a smile and spin on my heel, d lifting my skirt and heading straight to my room.
I had a feeling that things were going just fine with Arin. It was a start, that’s all I needed.
#((chekhov's ring))#selectionoc#selectionoc6#arin tag#melissa duthe#missy fics#LMAO MISSY YOU THOUGHT#side rp tag
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Challenge #2.5
Aka The Greenhouse RP with Jackson (Night Mode)
a/n: hello, this is probs going to be my last fic for a while but it’s my last deliverable in my pending RPs BJKSNJBDBKSJDKSD
this now is my fav fic so far and I hope you can pick up why AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA (also the secret ™™™ is kind of explored a little more here... hehe) Thank you Bri @jackson-graham for this RP, and for Jackson being the sweetest, most patient person... EVER BJSKDKSJD I LOVE HIM. Okay, I hope you enjoy JKSKJDNKJD (3457 words)
I really love plants.
Plants didn’t hurt your feelings when you ask them if they’re doing okay.
Plants don’t make you cry.
Plants don’t curb your enthusiasm about finding love again. They just mind their own little business and make you smile with how pretty they are.
I wish the plants could give me a hug right now.
Oh gosh I was going to ruin this gown with all the tear stains. Not that anyone was going to see me in it anyway. I’ve been alone in this greenhouse for hours. If I was going to be sad over my hopes getting crushed, might as well be sad in the middle of a beautiful greenhouse in a pretty dress. I liked the quiet here more than being left alone in my room. The sun had set hours ago, leaving the greenhouse to look pretty in the moonlight, and moonlight alone.
It’s been a couple of hours since Arin had brought us back to dock close to the palace. I’m not sure if going back to my room alone was a blessing or a curse. I think that’s when that overwhelming feeling of dread started to loom over me.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop the sinking feeling I got when I thought about my date earlier with Arin today. I couldn’t stop myself from letting the tears fall. I bend over the bench and bury my face in my hands. Grammy said that it was okay to cry at the end of a long tiring day.
How could someone be so…
“Missy?”
I hear someone call my name from behind me, it was a soft sound.
I immediately sit up, and look over to find the source of it. Surprised that someone would be here at this time. The greenhouse wasn’t the most well-lit at night, but the moonlight was enough to see who called out my name.
Dark hair, nice brows, warm eyes.
“Jackson,” I say in recognition. This is the first time I’ve heard my voice in hours. It was hoarse. Oh god, if I sounded that bad I must look even worse right now. I push some of my hair behind my shoulder. I didn’t want him, anyone, see me like this. “Hi.”
Hi? Is that all I could really say?
“What happened?” Jackson takes a step closer to the bench I was sitting on, a look of visible concern on his face.
Did I look that miserable?
I reach up to rub my eyes, looking down to my skirt. My gut tells me to keep on crying and just not answer the question. I couldn’t even bring myself to call my Grammy and tell her what happened today. Still, I take a breath, I don’t think I could take another moment of keeping this to myself.
“My date with Arin happened.”
“This bad?” his voice was calm as he approaches and kneels in front of me around my eye level, his hand on the seat of the bench to brace himself.
“It was terrible.” I sigh in frustration as I feel some more tears fall from my eyes. Jackson didn’t look too comfortable kneeling. There was plenty of space on the bench anyway.
I let myself slide down the side bench, making sure that the skirt of my dress took as little space as possible. “Can I offer you a seat?”
It was the least I could for someone who seemed willing to listen to my woes.
There’s a beat before Jackson moves to sit next to me on the bench, his arm resting on the bench, his eyes not once leaving me. His free hand quickly pats the pockets of his jacket over his t-shirt. I watch curiously as he digs into his pocket and brings out a pale blue, cloth napkin. The nice kind, the fancy kind. He was offering it to me.
“It’s no handkerchief, but it’s what I have at the moment.”
I eye the napkin for a moment. It was more than enough. I thought as I took the napkin.
“Thank you.” I give Jackson a small smile of appreciation before I start dabbing my eyes. Thank God I wore waterproof mascara today. I don’t know why I wasn’t smart enough to bring a handkerchief for my tears with me here. I sigh. “I—uh…”
As much as I wanted to air and let out everything that was weighing me down right now, I remembered that Jackson was a family friend of Arin’s. What would Jackson think of me if I started dragging his friend’s name in the mud? What if he told Arin after?
“You can tell me if you’d like.” He tilts his head with a kind gaze. “I won’t… who I am doesn’t matter right now.”
I shlump into the bench, wiping my eyes again with the napkin. Jackson’s been nothing but kind to me, he wouldn’t do that.
“It started out alright,” I try to recount and summarize the date to make the long story short. “but it seemed like there was something bothering him… so I asked if he was alright or if he needed to talk like a normal person would.”
Do you need to get something off your chest? Someone to talk to?
I glance back to Jackson, “and…”
A sardonic chuckle.
Missy, all I need right now is for us to get this date over with. I don’t need a babysitter.
“…he snapped at me.”
“He was angry?” Jackson raises his brows, looking like he was trying to understand the situation.
I blink, shaking my head. “I’m not quite sure but it seemed like he was.”
If there was one thing I learned from that date about Arin, it was that boy had one boulder sized chip on his shoulder.
My hands start fidgeting again. I hate when I did that but it was comforting. I feel for my ring on my right, I look down at my hands. . There was no need for him to be so pointed all the time. “Every time I asked him a question about himself, he seemed off… and he was like… dismissing every suggestion I made after that.”
Are you gonna try to dismiss every single thing I try to suggest to you?
What do you want from me Melissa?
I sigh, feeling another tear fall.
“Oh,” Jackson mumbles. He sighs and glances away. “I don’t think that’s exclusive to you, Missy.” He brings his gaze back to me. “I’ve been hearing a lot of things about his dates.”
I think my concern just multiplied at that last sentence. God, I can’t imagine how the other girls’ dates went.
“The first time we met, you told me that he was kind.” I feel my brows knit remembering how I tried to remind myself that throughout the whole afternoon, every time I felt horrible while talking to Arin.
“I remembered that above all things that happened, but…” I shake my head, my hands fidgeting with each other more now. “… there was nothing kind in what he said to me.”
I watch as a grimace forms on Jackson’s usually calm face, I didn’t mean to drag him into this. He hangs his head for a moment with a sigh.
“I’m so sorry that I was wrong. I didn’t… I didn’t think it would result in this.” He makes a light gesture towards me, looking guilty.
I felt horrible looking at him now, I didn’t mean to make him feel guilty. He meant the best when he told me that. I’ve made this even worse. I feel my eyes water some more at that, tears falling again onto my dress.
“I don’t think anyone would have expected that my date would have resulted in the way it did.” I try to take the blame away from Jackson. He had nothing to do with it. I shut my eyes and try to compose myself. I shouldn’t be blaming anyone else other than myself and Arin. Even with my eyes closed, I feel the tears fall.
“Sorry. You probably think I’m being over dramatic.”
“No, of course not.” He shakes his head. “The last thing you expected was for Arin to be like this.” A deep, deep frown forms on his face. “And you certainly didn’t deserve it.”
“It’s just... Oh gosh, I had a feeling that he had some chip on his shoulder, what with that broken off engagement but—” I stop myself when I look at Jackson, then at my ring.
But Arin had no right to be such an asshole with his broken engagement. I mean… look at me. I’ve tried to stay positive despite the fact that the only person I loved for seven years left me on our wedding day.
I couldn’t say that to Jackson, or anyone here really. What would everyone think if they knew? Not entirely good for my image.
I huff out a breath, feeling my heart get heavy at that. “I’m just… disappointed.”
Disappointed by another man, what’s new? Was it always going to be this way for me?
“I don’t have any more defense for him if it resulted in you disappointed, crying with me. I’m sorry.” The sincerity in Jackson’s voice made me want to cry.
Breathe. I let myself huff out a breath before sobering up, trying to stop myself from crying even more. This was a mess. This was my mess.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” My eyes look down onto the napkin. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to come here, I mean… I didn’t want to bother anyone with… the crying and all…”
I look back up, eyeing him curiously. “Why are you here? If you don’t mind me asking… of course.”
“I couldn’t find these for a week.” He gestures to the sunglasses hanging from his shirt. “Turns out they were here,” he smiles a bit, “And you’re not bothering me. Not at all.”
A small smile tugs on my lips at that last thing he said.
“Oh, you must have left those when you came here for your mom’s bouquet.” Couldn’t quite believe that was a week ago. Which reminds me… “How’d your mom like the flowers, by the way?”
Jackson’s smile widens a fraction, “She thought they were beautiful. You have quite the talent.”
That was one piece of good news I was happy to hear.
“It was nothing,” I shake my head, clasping my hands together on my lap. “I was just happy to help you out.”
“Can I do something to help you? Right now?”
I can’t believe how genuinely kind Jackson was.
“Well from the way things turned out today… got a time turner with you?” I laugh in frustration, the sad kind. Deep down, a part of me regretted applying for all of this. “I’m pretty sure Arin’s gonna send me home any time soon.”
A quiet chuckle from Jackson, “If he sends you home, he’s going to have to send every Selected home. You’re not alone in this.”
It felt like I was alone though.
I close my eyes at that thought, throwing my head back with a sigh.
“I can’t imagine everyone else’s date going the same way mine did.” I turn to Jackson, managing out a smile for the experience. “This was all fun while it lasted.”
“There wasn’t one good moment? At all?”
“During the date?” I let myself think, trying to grasp for something that I could maybe share with my future children 10 years from now when they ask about this whole experience and my one date with the prince. “Well... he made a boat joke that was... slightly funny. Kind of sad for the two of us but... funny.”
Well, then at least we’re in the same boat.
In more ways than one, I suppose.
That statement was more ironic than Arin probably knew.
Jackson slumps back into the bench a bit with a sigh, his arm still resting on top of its back.
“If slightly funny is the best he can do… It’s at least a start.”
That’s what I thought too.
I slump back against the bench too.
“It wasn’t the best first date experience…” I chuckle to myself, genuinely laughing at a thought “but I barely have the experience for more than one comparison.”
And the memory was still one of the happiest moments of my life.
“Haven’t dated much?” his tone was casual, conversational—breaking my train of thought.
“Just one person.” I reply, giving an explanation I’ve given a hundred times whenever someone asked me what happened between me and Daniel. “Stayed together for a couple of years until... he ended it a few years back. Been on my own since then.”
I clench my right fist. I stopped being angry and sad about him a long time ago.
“I’m not much different.” Jackson says, holding one finger up.
Oh. It was hard to imagine that for Jackson… someone ending things with someone so genuine and kind. Not sure why, but… it was difficult to imagine it.
“You know I was hoping this time it was going to be different. Well, it was definitely different alright.” I manage a self-deprecating laugh.
“Would it be insensitive of me to tell you to not lose all hope yet?”
“The only thing I’ve got left to lose is a little piece of hope.” I don’t even know where that piece of hope came from, but it was there. I sigh, “It wouldn’t be insensitive at all, more comforting really.”
I reach up to wipe my eyes, realizing that I’ve actually stopped crying. I look around, realizing I was sitting in the spot Jackson had told me about the last time we were here together. I had to give it to Jackson’s suggestion, this part of the greenhouse had a great view.
Still a great view couldn’t erase what happened during my date or the impending sense of doom of me leaving. I look over to Jackson, wondering what was going on in his head. Finding me here… when all he was supposed to find were his sunglasses.
“This is going to sound weird but, what’s working in an animal shelter like?” I ask out of the blue, but knowing full well that I wanted to talk about something, anything, other than what happened today.
As I expected, Jackson looks surprised at my question before saying with slightly raised brows. “Honest answer?”
“Sure.” It was nice to not be dismissed every time I asked a question unlike earlier. Sure meant, yes please I needed a normal conversation not about this Selection.
“It’s hard.” He says, his eyes looking forward. “Lots of animals, easy to love, but not easy to see what’s been done to them. Or witness how plenty of them are looked over for other animals.” Suddenly, a small smile lights up his face.
“Still. I love them all, which I can only hope is enough.”
I didn’t quite realize that aspect of working with animals or at a shelter but…
“I’ve always… wondered how those animals could go through what they’ve been through; but still end up loving their owner above it all.” I say before feeling the corners of my lips tilt up, Jackson’s smile infectious. “I’m sure you loving them all is more than enough.”
Jackson then turns to me, “They know when they’re loved and valued. Much like people.”
But even people can’t tell when they’ve stopped being loved.
“Nothing more pure than that.” A thought runs through my mind, one that I thought about earlier during my date with Arin too.
“I suppose the happiest businesses come with a couple of not so happy strings attached, huh?”
Weddings, working at an animal shelter… Work like that always requires a level of generosity, expecting nothing in return other than people’s happiness.
A soft laugh comes from Jackson as he looks down for a moment before looking back up to me, “It only makes you value that happiness more. That way…” he lifts a shoulder, “you know what you’re missing out on.”
I liked conversations like these… the kind where you realize certain things that you weren’t afraid to think out loud.
“I never want to miss out… on the happiness I mean.” I say, shifting to prop my head on my arm up on the back of the bench, but accidentally hitting the arm Jackson was resting on the back of the bench. “Oh, sorry.”
“Oh, it’s my bad.” He says, pulling his arm away, suddenly feeling his hand bump the side of my head.
Ouch. I wince on the impact, not expecting it. I reach up to the spot he bumped.
“Oh jeez, I’m sorry.” he seems to wince too, reaching out to my head. “Did that hurt?”
I shake my head. I was just surprised.
“No, no, it’s alright.” I try to give him a reassuring smile, using my free hand to gently bring down the hand he had reached out to me. “I’m fine. It was just a small bump.”
Jackson still looks concerned despite my reassurance, glancing to my head. “The last thing you needed was someone to hit you on the head after crying.”
Of all things that happened to me today, he was concerned with a little bump.
“It was an accident. Nothing I can’t handle.” I try to laugh it off, looking down to his arm. I had hit his arm first.
I turn his hand over gently, making sure there wasn’t any damage from my end.
“Anyway, I accidentally hit your arm first. Is your arm okay?”
Um…wow, his hand was warm.
He just blinks for a moment, then softening on sight before saying, “Yeah. Yeah it’s… fine.”
“That’s good to hear.” I say before letting go of his hand, and tucking my hands on my lap, shifting forward so I could avoid anymore bumping into him. “Sorry again about that and uh… for crying…”
Jackson takes his back, still staring at me when he replies. “I hope that besides my… violence” he sounds embarrassed about that, “you feel a little better.”
“Well talking to you has helped me a lot.” I wipe my eyes, proving a point. “See? No tears left.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “I hope that lasts. Finding you crying is not something I’d like to make a regular occurrence.”
“Well it’s not gonna happen again if your friend sends me home after today.” I remark, pushing some of my hair behind my shoulder with a sigh.
“Hey,” he says gently and I turn my head to him, “you came to this palace for a wonderful opportunity. It can still turn out to be that way even with some,” he pauses, “obstacles in the way.”
“I can only hope something good can come out of this.” I say before a yawn escapes me. I look back at Jackson, feeling embarrassed at that. “Sorry.”
I suppose crying…. really tired me out.
He maintains his smile, “Would you like me to walk you back? It’s late already.”
I shake my head, knowing full well that Jackson’s done more than enough for me.
“I’d like to walk back to my room alone, if that’s alright. A little time to think after everything that happened today.”
“I understand.” He says nodding before leaning back. “I um… I hope tomorrow is better for you.”
“Thank you… for the talk,” I look down, searching for the napkin Jackson had given me earlier and holding it up. “and this napkin.”
I push myself up and off the bench, careful not to fall despite just wearing flats. “I really needed it.” This time, I feel myself smile brightly. “I’ll hopefully see you around again.”
It was odd how I always bumped into Jackson.
Jackson stands with me and I realize something. He was taller than me when I wasn’t wearing heels. An inch I suppose.
“It was my pleasure, Missy. Hopefully is right,” he says with a soft boyish smile, stepping backwards. “Have a good night, okay?”
“I’ll try to.” I nod once, my smile softening. “Have a good night, Jackson.”
I wave lightly as I take a step back and watch as he makes his way down to the closest exit. I take it as my cue to head to the main exit, but before I leave, I catch him look over his shoulder once, and he smiles over to me—just before he’s fully gone from my sight.
I look up, and thank whoever I could thank for sending Jackson and that conversation my way.
The sinking feeling was gone from my chest.
#selectionoc#selection oc#melissa duthe#missy fics#~jackson tag#((yieeeeeeeeeee))#((hand bumping made me sCREECH))
4 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Challenge 3 : The Individual Community Engagement Proposal (Operation: Empawthy)
Official document and proposal is linked over here
a/n: I recommend you read it on desktop because BSJKNKJNKJF it has a header,,,, also BSJKDKJ it looks pretty because knowing Missy,,,, it would be aesthetic BJKSNDJ pretentious I know but for real I tried to make her writing bad because she’s not the best when it comes to formal writing (and all I’ve been doing for the past 2 years has just been project proposals just like this for my business majors LMAO BJKSBJD) . THERE’S A FIC, I PROMISE DDSJKDNDKFNKJNF YALL WILL GET A FIC ABOUT HOW SHE THOUGHT OF THIS BDJKFJKF
#missy duthe#selectionoc6#selectionoc#((I can't believe I made my own logo and header for this))#((I made so many presentations like this in the past#its a blur to me now))#((my business major side is screaming))#((people over profit always))#((peep at that shout out EHE))
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Practice Challenge #1
PART 1: Finding
a/n: (reposting it because this isn’t showing up on my timeline and blog and idk, tumblr is wEIRD)
hello, it’s been a while since I’ve actually written anything,,,, so writing this one was a bit of challenge. Nonetheless. Enjoy this short fic over here or read it in google docs for easier reading. let the conspiracies begin bwahahahaha (2k)
Runaway grooms, they happen… occasionally.
I wonder what goes on in people’s heads when they consider it. No judgement though.
“Honey, what do you mean you can’t do it?” I stand outside the door of the church’s antechamber, trying to open the locked door.
“I’m- she’s making a mistake by marrying me.” the groom says from the other side.
“What makes you say that?”
Oh no, there’s a dead silence on the other side. It’s not for another moment or two I hear the door unlock and open for me.
“Missy,” the groom looks to me, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I can’t do this. I can’t ask her to marry down a caste.”
“Lottie, stall for a hot minute. We’ve got a possible runner.” I whisper before pulling out the earpiece from my ear and step into the room, closing the door behind me.
The entire wedding party was waiting in the hallway. I needed to act fast. There was one way I knew this could always be resolved. Mama and Grammy’s advice better not fail me now.
“Henry,” I pause, “May I ask you to be honest?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Do you love Natalie?”
“With all my heart and being.”
“Do you still want to marry her? ”
“I do, I mean— I— , what if she’s gonna regret it? ”
I shake my head slightly. “What makes you say that? She already said yes to you when you proposed.”
My mama told me that there were signs that a person truly loved someone. It was always in the little things. and the way Natalie looked at Henry? I knew that bride was walking into this wholeheartedly.
The groom wipes his brow, pacing around the room.
“But give it a year or ten. What if I can’t provide for her? I don’t know if I can provide for her.” Henry’s voice cracks, and my brows furrow. My heart went out to him. This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen someone have cold feet on their wedding day.
I look at him, putting my hands behind me. “And what if you can provide for her? A caste is just a number.”
“I don’t know, Missy. You’ve seen a lot of weddings.” He glances my way. “Does it work out when people marry down?”
“I can’t guarantee that all weddings work out, but you’ve got to choose to make everything work. I mean, marrying someone ain’t magic.” I stand still by the door. “My Grammy has always told me that making things work is like bungee jumping from a cliff. You never know what it’s like until you take that leap, but you’ve always got that one chord holding onto you. Natalie is your chord. Just like how you’re hers.”
Henry stops in his tracks, wiping his sweat off his face again, taking a quiet moment to think before speaking up again.
“Your Grammy is a wise woman.”
I smile at him, sensing the tension in the room disappear.
“You know, Missy, you just stopped me from making a huge mistake.”
“It’s your wedding day.” I lift a shoulder up. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
People usually did get cold feet on their wedding day, nothing new. “Do you need a little more time to breathe before we get you to the altar?”
He closes his eyes for a bit, shaking his head and fixing his tie with a smile. “No, I’m ready. I’d like to see Natalie now. ”
I smile, putting my earpiece back on. “Lottie, it's go time.”
At Duthé Debuts and Weddings, nothing signals the end of the day better than taking off your heels, my bare feet and shoes concealed by the table cloth.This only happens at the end of the wedding, when everyone’s left the reception venue save for a few people which were mostly just us and the vendors packing up. I finally had time to start filling up my form.
The bride and groom had already left, not without the bride and groom hugging me for making sure everything went smoothly today.
What can I say? Making people’s fairy tales come true was my job.
Well, aside from the attempted runaway groom, I’d have to admit that today’s wedding was pretty smooth. After Henry pulled himself together, he asked to talk to Natalie before they both went out and that seemed to have been the last I heard of any of his wedding day jitters. Whoever said it was bad luck for a groom to see a bride in her wedding dress was severely disturbed.
As my Grammy had always put it, “there’s nothing more beautiful than seeing a bride in her wedding dress.” Everytime I see it happen, I feel like tearing up too.
Sure planning and coordinating everything before the wedding can be described as “stressful”, but being on your feet the whole day in heels, running around venues and having to deal from anything from a hundred to six hundred wedding guests, the bridal party, and the groom and brides themselves is a good contender in “things that will give me wrinkles soon”.
There’s a magic to weddings that I could never give a name to, and it isn’t just me. My Grammy and mama never knew what to call it, but we all knew what it felt like. Maybe it was a grace too powerful to name.
“Missy…? Missy, MELISSA!”
I turn my head in the direction to whoever was calling my name. I tilt my head, slipping my feet back into my heels from underneath the table, and swiping my form underneath my clipboard.
“Lottie.” I grin, watching the curly red head walk towards me and collapse into the chair beside mine, setting her own clipboard on the table.
“I don’t actually know how you still have the energy to smile right now.” Lottie’s lips purse before propping her head up on her arm. “The caterer’s almost done packing up, by the way.”
“I know. I spoke to them and they told me to give them around 15 minutes to get everything outta here.” I look up to the ceiling of the venue, smiling to myself at how beautifully the venue turned out.
It took the whole day yesterday to turn the tent into this. I had to make the wreaths hanging above from scratch. Time well spent if you ask me. It’s a shame that the venue’s staff started removing it.
Fingers snap right in front of my face and I turn back to Lottie.
“Earth to Missy.”
“Missy to Earth.” I reply back, still taking one last look up. I was pretty proud of how this all looked, glancing over. “Sweetheart, chill. I’ve taken care of getting all the wedding vendors to egress by 1 AM. We have the venue booked until 2AM. We’re on schedule, now relax.” I make the move to remove my shoes underneath the table again and take my form out again.
Lottie was newer to all of this, it was easy to feel pressured to be so by the book. The vendors we booked for this reception were my regulars. They knew when I needed them to leave.
She peeks underneath the table cloth, looking back up at me. “You’re a genius.”
I lift a shoulder up and wink at her. “Nope, Grammy’s the genius. She taught me this.”
The golden piece of advice still rings out in my ears. Rest your feet whenever you can. Take those shoes of yours off underneath a table cloth and stretch those bad boys out. Then again, she told me that when I was like six, and still in my pageant days.
“I miss having her boss us around.” Lottie chimes in, now folding an unused napkin (I hope it’s unused) into a new shape.
“She’s in remission. It’s not too long until she’ll be back to her desk, overbooking us.” We were lucky to have caught the cancer in its early stages, even cancer couldn’t take her down.
I was lucky to have been named after her. Mel Duthé, one of the best wedding planners this side of Orleans has ever seen in the past 50 years, until my mama joined the family business when she married my Pops. Mama wasn’t born into this life, but it was as if it was something she was born to do too.
As if reading my mind, Lottie speaks up again. “What about Miss Caroline?”
“Hey what part of ‘we’re leaving the family business to Missy’ did you not understand?” I raise a brow jokingly at her. “Let the lady live and get to travel the world with my Pops for a week or two.”
“Where did they head to again?”
“France. Pops never got to take Mama on their dream honeymoon until now.” Pops really did save up for their trip to Paris and the French Countryside and all that fancy stuff. Something about visiting the real Roulin Mouge.
“Ahhhh, ” Lottie sighs dramatically, “to be honeymooning in France….”
I giggle. “Hey, it’s their 20th wedding anniversary trip.” If only I could experience having something like that. Ahhhh, to be honeymooning in France, indeed. Lottie relents, her attention going back to another napkin.
There’s a comfortable silence between us for a while, me just watching all the decorations and drapes get taken down while Lottie continues folding her napkin in different styles. I should probably start filling my form.
“Missy, I’ve got a question.”
“Go ahead.” I glance over to her, leaning back on my seat.
“How do you do it? I mean- we almost had a runner today.”
I lift a shoulder with a smirk. “Experience, I suppose.”
Lottie laughs out loud, setting down the napkin. “Experience, my ass.”
“Hey, I was taught by the best. Anyway, you can’t exactly stop someone from running. You just have to ask them to think that decision through. No pushing, no forcing, no guilt tripping.” I run my hand through my hair, recalling the occasional times I’ve seen someone want to leave their own wedding if it weren’t for Grammy and mama.
As they always told me, just help them sort their priorities through. Facing your fear is always part of being in love.
There are many stages that the heart goes through but in my business, you’ve seen enough to have a good idea on what these stages are.
“I don’t think Henry wanted to really run. Like, I mean, he was just scared of failing Natalie for something not completely guaranteed.”
“Shouldn’t you have let him go if he wanted to run?”
I mull over it, shaking my head. “Just because you’re scared of something doesn’t mean you’ve gotta run. It’s like, basic fight or flight. He just needed to remember who he was fighting for.”
Sometimes people fought for the wrong thing.
“At least he had someone to fight for.” Without even meaning it, that slips from my mouth. I hope Lottie didn’t hear that.
“Same, but I’ve got my ticket to happily ever after here.”
I laugh before seeing Lottie take out a familiar looking piece of paper.
She was applying for the Selection too. Another giggle escapes me before I hold up my own form.
Lottie’s smile wavers slightly.
I can tell that me applying bothers her, maybe it’s smart to heed it as a warning. Nah.
This was fight or flight. This was my flight scaring me into stopping myself.
“This morning, I asked the universe for a sign.” I lay the form back on the table. “This showed up in the mail, Grammy thought I could maybe take a chance with it too.”
Lottie’s smile brightens up, a supportive look as she reaches over and pats my hand.
“Well there ain’t no arguing with signs from the universe. Wanna fill up our forms together?”
The idea isn’t absurd, finding love, falling in love with a prince. Maybe if I got Selected, it was another sign from the universe that it was time to try again, a little older and wiser. It could be a fairy tale, alright, one that I wanted to write for myself.
Everyone deserved to find their fairytale, and maybe this was my chance to find one for myself.
“Sure.” I smile back at Lottie, “So would you say that I’m a light blonde or a honey blonde?”
#selectionoc#selection oc#selectionoc6#missy duthe#missy fics#((sorry tumblr is weird and I don't see the actual post on my blog/timeline))#((yes I'm being ambiguous for a reason))
8 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
animalia-wildlife-photography
Animalia Photography
mycapwidow
Romanogers Forever
iga-magazine
Proudly provincial.
colo-u-rs
colores
inspiringmindzofficial-blog
Inspiring Mindz