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Fairytale Start

Author: Orbits
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-10 09:01:15

(Five Years Ago)

I pressed my lips tightly,

“Iris, don’t smudge that lipstick-” My makeup artist warned me, “I spent over an hour finding that perfect shade!” She yelled back at me.

I giggled but nodded in compliance.

“Calm down- later on it’ll be smudged to hell and back.” The smaller lady shook her head at me, lowering herself to retouch with a brush.

“I expect that after cameras, but two minutes on should not be an issue.” I smiled back at her.

“Hey, my boyfriend’s picking me up later,” The makeup artist rolled her eyes,

“Yes, Iris, just come see me after we film and I’ll touch you up.”

I winked back at her, hopping out of the chair,

“And filming here we-” The door behind me opened, my eyes reaching the door. “Triston!” I squeeked, leaping onto him.

He was taken aback slightly, but held onto me. I poked my nose against his. “You came, babe!” He chuckled, pushing his head into the side of my head.

“HAIR !” My hairstylist screamed out, and Triston pulled back.

“Sorry!” He called out as I slipped from his arms.

I moved back, finally seeing what was in his hands. A bundle of ruby red roses. My eyes were delighted as he handed them off to me.

“Oh, baby, they are so beautiful!” I brought them to my nose, a delightful aroma.

“Do you like them?” He asked, grinning at my nod. I moved forward, our lips pressing on each other's-

“IRIS! Makeup!”

---------------------------------

The lights dimmed on set, and my smile faded as I knew what was coming. 

“That’s a wrap!” The director announced, allowing my shoulders to relax.

“THANK YOU!” I shouted to the crew, lowering my head to them all. I loved filming, but it was tiring. I shook everyone's hand, everyone's. Knowing I was finally able to relax. Quickly, I walked off set.

I began walking to my dressing room, unbuttoning the top of my costume. I had practically kicked it off as I entered the dressing room. Going to the rack of clothes, I looked over the dresses.

I picked the dress I had brought in for tonight, a lovely low-cut sparkly blue dress. I slipped it over my body. Now, truly, my body was sculpted by gods, but it did require upkeep- I stared at myself in the mirror. The upkeep showed. I moved to the side, seeing my profile.

“Iris!” My makeup artist called, “Let’s get you ready!”

---------------------------------

I had made it to the restaurant. Only half an hour late, I smiled.

"My best time." I walked inside, the host seeing me and smiling from ear to ear.

"Ms. Irving." He moved from behind the host table. "Mr. Ballard is waiting for you." I nodded, him beginning to lead me through the back, taking me to our table. Good. Us being out always brought in waves of fans. Way too many fans. They meant well, but when I wanted to be with my love, it was never nice having my beach photos shoved into my face to sign. I entered the room, Triston standing up, his smile the largest I'd ever seen.

"You're early," he proclaimed as I made my way to him. I puckered a few kisses on his cheek, pulled my head in, and placed a kiss on my lips. "Sit down." He pulled out my chair. I sat down, placing my clutch purse on the table. Triston stared at me, "You look gorgeous as always." I gave him a cheeky look,

"Don't I always?"

"On Sundays, you like to sit in your PJs and make costumes for our dog Babe." Triston seemed sweaty but kept chatting, his eyes looking at his phone. "So," Triston said, glancing at his watch for the third time in two minutes. "I have a little surprise for you."

I raised an eyebrow, watching him fidget with his napkin. "Oh really? What kind of surprise?"

Before he could answer, the door burst open and a waiter rushed in, whispering frantically in Triston's ear. I caught fragments: "...stuck in traffic..." "...twenty minutes late..." "...so sorry, Mr. Ballard..."

Triston's face fell. "It's fine," he muttered, then turned to me with a forced smile. "Just... give it a few more minutes."

But those few minutes stretched into fifteen, then twenty. Triston kept checking his phone, his jaw growing tighter with each passing moment. Finally, the restaurant manager appeared, looking mortified.

"Mr. Ballard, I'm afraid the string quartet is completely stuck on the freeway. There's been an accident and—"

"String quartet?" I interrupted, piecing things together. "Triston, what exactly did you plan?"

He ran his hands through his hair, looking more frustrated than I'd ever seen him. "I just... I wanted tonight to be perfect. Oliver and Sarah were supposed to be here, and Marcus Anthony and Bell, and there were supposed to be musicians, and—" He stopped mid-sentence as his phone buzzed. His face went pale as he read the message.

"What now?" I asked gently.

"The kitchen. There's been some kind of... incident. With the dessert I ordered." He looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. "They're asking us to... maybe step outside while they handle it."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Triston Ballard, the man who closes million-dollar deals before breakfast, defeated by a dessert?"

He managed a weak smile. "Come on. Let's get out of here before anything else goes wrong."

---------------------------------

We walked out of the restaurant into the cool evening air. Triston was quiet, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, clearly beating himself up over the failed evening.

"You know," I said, slipping my arm through his, "I was having a perfect time anyway."

"But it was supposed to be special," he said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "You just wrapped your third film, and I wanted to celebrate properly, and—"

"Triston." I stopped walking and turned to face him. "Any night with you is special."

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and some of the tension melted from his shoulders. "I love you so much, Iris. Sometimes I can't believe you're real."

We started walking again, and I noticed we were heading toward the little gazebo tucked away behind the restaurant. It was strung with tiny white lights that twinkled like stars, casting a warm glow over the small wooden structure.

"Oh," I breathed. "This is beautiful."

Triston stopped walking. When I turned to look at him, he was staring at me with an intensity that made my heart skip.

"Iris," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't need musicians or perfect timing or elaborate plans. I just need you."

And then he was dropping to one knee, right there on the gravel path, pulling a small velvet box from his jacket pocket.

"I've loved you since the moment I saw you laugh at that terrible joke the director made on set two years ago. I've loved you through every early morning call time, every premiere, every moment you've shared your dreams with me." His hands were shaking as he opened the box, revealing the most stunning sapphire ring I'd ever seen, surrounded by diamonds that caught the light from the gazebo. "This was my mother's ring. She always said she'd want the woman who wore it next to be someone who loved with her whole heart, the way she did."

Tears were streaming down my face now, and I couldn't find words.

"Iris Irving," he continued, his voice stronger now, "will you marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life making sure you know how extraordinary you are? Will you build a family with me?"

I was crying too hard to speak, but I managed to nod frantically. "Yes," I whispered, then louder: "Yes, yes, of course yes!"

He slipped the ring onto my finger with trembling hands, then stood and pulled me into his arms, spinning me around as I laughed through my tears.

The moment he set me down, music began to play, it was so soft and romantic, floating through the air. I looked around in confusion, and then I saw them. Oliver and Sarah, Marcus Anthony and Bell all emerged from behind the gazebo with huge grins on their faces.

"Surprise!" Oliver called out, jogging over to us. "Sorry, we're late! Traffic was insane!" He swept me into a tight hug, lifting me off my feet. "Welcome to the family, Iris. We've been waiting for this moment forever."

I looked at Triston over Oliver's shoulder, and he was beaming, all traces of his earlier frustration gone.

"So the backup plan worked perfectly," I said, laughing as Oliver set me down.

"There was no backup plan," Triston admitted, pulling me back into his arms. "This was just... perfect."

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