In RubyLust's building was no normal afternoon. Cerise was the hot potato of each department, having no idea that there was an 'heir' moreover being introduced with an unexpected meeting. Even heating her popularity further in the building as they didn't expect a young swan as the next director.
The room is filled with sounds of aggressive typing, in front of the monitor, and unaware of being the topic of the day, Cerise's mouth dries cursing the same words from earlier a thousand times more. "I hate you Fleur Jean" she continues muttering and her father points out with a deep sigh that she's become a nuisance as soon as he came back from an urgent call, landing himself a spot on the couch. A tired block of meat that seemed wrinkled from all the weight on his shoulders.
All of a sudden she felt apologetic for her attitude and got back to working on the assigned task—to create a compilation of shoots that Fleur Jean has for the next month. A task supposedly done by assistants which her father lured her into being one for the given time.
Hours pass with Cerise spacing out in between encoding and trying not to scream at the bitchiest secretaries ever over the phone, strings of downgrading phrases falling out of her mouth every time she finishes a call. Her legs grew numb and it was a sign to take a break from sitting down any longer, the longest she'd sat motionless was way back when she fell asleep in a cubicle—skipping classes.
"I'm done father, may I catch some air?"
Saliva clogs her throat when he appears beside her, another habit of his that is really creepy. "Send the output first then do so" Cerise follows him back to his table and made herself comfy on the bean bag by the desk, growing restless by the minute and searching for her mobile.
Speaking of phones, now that she and Sal had different places to be in, it would be convenient if she gets her own. She slaps herself on the head, wondering why she hadn’t bought her one way before all this. More random thoughts begin a tornado in her head despite being tired.
Until now her life was made up by only her and her best friend, decisions come with her consent along with living a carefree childhood. Not. it wasn’t carefree at all, but that’s a story for another time. Faradiso is great, she's not the type to compare places either way but what’s got her pent up is the fact that someone else would manage her entirety here. She only arrived today yet the schedule is bustling, the so-called free week is arranged by her father- ‘dinner dates with well-known people’ he says is a boost to her career.
There’s even this Tea guy who’s supposed to be her assistant (in title that is) who’ll help her adjust and teach her the boring stuff. He’s overseas at the moment and Cerise is not keen on meeting such people who love long flights.
“Design department on the line, may I…..”
Cerise's little break is long over and all she ever did was mentally chop off the chandelier which hung from the ceiling, a good enough sign to get up and mess with some of the documents pinned on the board behind her.
There she sees different files including all sorts of numbers and foreign languages, taped at the corner is a picture too eye-catching to ignore.
She glances back at her father, drowned in a phone call with some dude from whatever department and she takes the chance to rip the image from the board. Vintage-like with faded numbers at the side which she assumes was the date, the tip of it between her fingers crumpled and brown.
She observes it further, her grandfather and Jean were standing in front of an empty space, by the side was a pole sign reading 'Alithea street'. The name spread mysterious discomfort through her.
"I see you've taken a liking to Fleur. Why so?" She snaps her head in the direction of her father, again, out of nowhere beside her already. Cerise sticks the photo back with a newer strip of tape, flattening it out as to not worsen its condition. "Curious is all, a little story would do"
Cerise's father clears his throat, the look on his face giving out that he was contemplating with himself. He felt the eagerness coming off of her, eyes saying ‘I don’t mind waiting years for an answer' so he finally lets out
"He got picked up a long time ago on the outskirts, went through rehab before becoming the reason why this-” he points at the signature billboard of the company “is thriving."
She processes his words, slowly putting pieces together that she hesitates to ask, yet her mouth had its own plans
"Why was he rehabilitated?"
A suspicious look is sent her way, closing the door from her urging. She didn't really care if he was becoming more cautious and he couldn't determine any reason as to why she was doing this either. Cerise bites her inner cheek, quickly thinking of a direct reply which wouldn't fill his bar further. "I want to know more about him, for work."
Thick tension arose in the small space around them, suffocating, forcing Cerise to stop any action at his next words.
"He’s a murderer" contrast to how nonchalant and grim his manner was previously, this one was short and panicked. He settled back in his seat, playing with his digits nervously and a voice interrupts him before he could spill more tea.
"TMI?" Cerise shrieks at the sudden interjection. Jean stays behind her, closer even. His breath lingered on her nape, sending goosebumps all over her body. She had seen her father in the corner of her eye also jump and he promptly composes himself like he didn’t just call Jean a criminal. Which he technically isn’t.
"Aren't you supposed to be shooting for the annual?" Cerise's father inquires, the professional side back within a blink. Cerise is put off with the word ‘shooting’ associating it with the recent information and she's now got a screw loose, too overwhelmed at the mere fact that her back is pressing against the model’s chest and he only inches closer before she squirms away.
Jean brushes some dirt off his flannel, adjusting it like he wore it in a hurry "My shots are done, I’m here for a coffee break with this lady right here." He spoke in a flat tone yet Cerise felt like it was a tease directed at her, alluring yet similar to a bully's voice echoing from the top of a playground slide. Her father sends both of them a dismissing look, murmuring something under his breath which Jean undoubtedly hears.
Instead of opening the door leading to the hallway, he held his hand out, waiting for Cerise. "What is he doing?" she mutters, hesitantly bringing her arm up and he grips her tightly before she could even fathom what had happened. A burst of neon colors passed through her, making her body go numb for a split second.
"Sorry, walking is a waste of time so-" He lets go of her hand, scratching his neck with a suppressed smirk and she ignores it as her attention pans from the thick rings coating his fingers to the wall behind him.
The wall is different.
Cerise blinks.
The wall is different!
Cerise turns and concludes one thing.
This man has just teleported her with him.
"Get out of the way!" Cerise snaps out of a daze and turns her head in the direction of the shout, there, by the corner of the studio building dashed a man, his hand clinging to the pole to swing his body away from the crossing and to escape the men chasing after him in suits. "Janoir? Why are you running-" Janoir pulls the three of them into the nearest open door, shutting the mahogany block behind him and leaning on it to catch his breath. Cerise stood quiet, mind in a panic for her safety, she decides to use Jean as a shield in case this Janoir is actually a runaway prisoner. He rests his hands on his knees, throwing his head back to get rid of the sweat."fan c
“I’m never going to talk to you again,”Sal grunted in regret, unable to forgo divulging such humiliations she had as a dancer and now this aurum is never going to let her live it down. “I’m only teasing you”June cackles, pinky twirling in an X motion, repeating ‘wrong' to let the other continue dying in embarrassment. “highly unlikely, I feel threatened.” Why did she even agree to ‘20 questions’? June gave no mercy even if all Sal asked were ‘favorite color, pet’ and the like. “Okay, I’ll be nice with the last one, what was the call about?”She
2 PM In the situation they're in, she's supposed to be running. So she's running as fast as Sal is, breaths lodged in their throats as she's pulled by the shoelace.“hide honeyass!”She shouts, only able to watch while Cerise trips face-first to the ground. The garden walls are prickly with the vines and thorns stuck on it, the smell of Lysichiton plants nothing close to pleasant as she crawls around it.what an awful hiding place Despite being amidst the unfamiliarity of the place, there’s a sense of deja vu present, Cerise is always being chased. She's not supposed to open her eyes but she does. All of it felt like a blur, happening to
A week later, "She's supposed to come with me, I'm training her." "She's coming with me I'm the one she's managing." Coming to work early in the morning was a choice Cerise decided to make. Last night, she found out that Jean is at least a hundred years old. Because of a street sign she recognized to be the same as the one in the photograph in her father's office. And where is Jean now? In the headquarters, arguing with Trinity on who gets to come with who. Cerise is left typing aggressively on her keyboard, trying to drown out the noise of the two men behind her. "I get to decide where she goes, I'm managing her!"
"Where are you going again? It's the weekend."Cerise questions Sal, who she knew was going out because of the loose thread on her pinky. "I'm going to dance! bye."Sal leaves in a hurry. These days, Sal has been drifting from Cerise, always at ZM and never having time for the two of them anymore. Sal doesn't visit her at work or at college too like she said she would. Cerise is left to sulk in her bedroom. The apartment they shared was cozy and modern, with monochrome furniture decorating the place and tall windows aligning the walls. Suddenly, Cerise remembers the last time someone broke into their apartment, where they ended up running and Sal wouldn't spill about anything that had happened. She still needs to
Heartbreak. Cerise didn't realize that's what she's feeling at this moment. Tears stream down her face. Her stomach in twists, head buzzing and ears ringing. Her heart hurts so much and she can't seem to find a way to stop it. She forgets everything else but the pain, falling into a desperate, depressive state. In her arms is Jean, he had his head laid on her lap, their fingers intertwined and Cerise's tears falling onto his shirt. He had been explaining everything to her. And by everything he means himself and him stalking Cerise as well as what he has found out. Cerise doesn't know what her heart feels more broken for, herself or for Jean's story "Are you okay?"Jean asks, stretching his bloodied wings. Cerise wipes her tears away and assists the aurum in standing up. Cerise is tired a
Cerise wakes up with a groan, eyes puffy and voice hoarse. She looks around her room, there's a tiny, scary spider staring at her from the corner of her closet. "I'm sorry little guy I'm gonna have to kill you." Cerise grimaces at the word "kill", remembering earlier's events and the revelation to her, She still couldn't believe it and it may not look like it but she's trying to accept it. Acceptance is key. She crawls off from her bed, rolled newspaper in hand as she slowly walks toward the little critter. Just as she's about to hit it, the spider stands, fangs out and hairy little hands in the air. Cerise screams and drops the newspaper, runs outside of her room, and shuts it closed. On the couch, she sees Sal and a potato chip floating in the air. "When did you get home?" Cerise asks, "An hour ago. I saw Mr. model leaving your room." Cerise flushes at Sal's statement, what could he have be
Royalty, being one is a rather exquisite title. In the old times, royalty was about money which Cerise thinks is the only thing she qualifies for. Her family is rich, practically billionaires as they used to spend days together to waste their cash before the incident happened. Queen...There's no guarantee that she's the new Queen, there are tons of aurums out there that are much more powerful than she is. Yet Cerise flushes at the thought, being Queen meant she had an advantage over everyone else. she had a title to uphold.Cerise shakes her head, feather pen dropped from her delicate fingers as she adjusts her dress. From the drawer, she takes out a ticket, covered in white petals and golden linings. Addressed to her by her father, "This is an exclusive ball, you must attend as Rubylust's and our family's representative."Mild excitement can be heard from her squeal, it's been a while since Cerise has been to a ball, the last one counted to be her graduation."Jean?" C