A ONE HOUR dance practice for the wedding. And Xaver wasn't the least bit interested yet his Black Bugatti was smoothly pulling up in the parking lot.Passing through the entrance to the building, he tugged his tie loose and made quick work of removing his suit jacket, the frown on his forehead deepening a notch. Might as well get shit done with.The building was as large as a warehouse with the inscription "R. Dargenti Studio" boldly suspended above. The walls were a warm mix of nude and a deep brown. The Dargentis were as influential as they were Proud. Just like the Kirkgardes, their's was old money. A family business started years ago when Rosita Dargenti, a single mother of two, broke and helpless, discovered her love for dancing and choreography. An art which her children and those after them also seemed to take an interest to. I mean, who wouldn't when they were making that much bank.The Dargenti

AFTER THEY'D EATEN, Xaver literally kicked Sreya out of the kitchen to go rest, insisting on doing the dishes alone. When he was done, he walked to the living room to see Sreya cross-legged on the floor with a photo album he reognized sitting on her lap. When she heard him, she looked up, "Well, Look what I found". "I said 'rest', Sreya. And my definition of rest means sprawl on the couch and do nothing", Xaver countered as he joined her on the floor.  "We clearly have distinguishable definitions of rest", she bit back as her eyes returned to the photos. "Okay, Your mom is on a whole new level of gorgeous. She'd make a straight woman biseuxal", Sre observed as her finger touched a photo of Clara in one of her many charity events. 

"SO.... WE'RE GETTING divorced".The mini space housing the four ladies was soused in silence as the opening of the restaurant door, the stiff shuffling of the waiters, the soft click of wineglasses, the sound of bangles colliding as a woman waved her hand and the subtle murmur generated by words seemed to fade into the background.They were seated into Sournas, their favorite spot for lunch. And dinner.Yazmine spoke up first, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes wide,"Oh my God, Lu. I'm sorry".Luna rolled her eyes, pushing away the pity she saw in Yaz' eyes.. Resisting the vulnerability. When she spoke her voice shook a little, "Don't"."How's Kyle?" Sreya asked quietly.Luna waved a hand, "Oh, he's fine. Excited actually. He's been kicking it", she finished her wine and she'd barely touched her food, "with a woman named Gwendolen Ruthlow", she lifted the

LU WAS COUGHING, Ariah's eye balls looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets and Yaz...Well, Yaz was yelling, "What!? Xaver Kirkgarde from zillionaire Kirkgarde family?"Sreya nodded."Wait", Ariah interrupted, "Zillionaire's a word?""Yes", Yaz, Sreya and Luna chorused. And Yaz turned back to Sre, anxious to drill her for more juicy info, "How on earth did you guys meet? Press Conference?"They were both public figures."Uhm. His grandmother, Edith. She's a patient at the hospital. Alzheimer's"."And?" Luna rolled her eyes. They needed to know how not why."Okay. We were first introduced in the hospital by the doctor taking care of Edith. Richard, remember him?"The trio nodded eagerly. They'd met Richard once or twice when they'd come to the hospital for purposes far fro

TEACHING A GROWN ass man how to bake chocolate chip cookies by 3 in the morning was not on Sreya Dronian's bucket list but here she was rolling the already mixed dough between her palms to form a medium-sized ball with Xavier by her side.After a few minutes, she was done, "Now we're going to pop these bad boys into the fridge and let them cool for an hour", Sre finished as she lifted the tray from the counter and slid the metallic piece into the refrigerator.Coming back to the counter, she wiped her hands on an orange coloured kitchen rag and ordered Xavier to the nearest kitchen chair beside the counter as she began to clean up the broken egg shells, spilled flour,  stained spatula and tainted glass mixing bowls.Humming Gretta Harlow's Foreign almost inaudibly beneath her breath, Sreya allowed cold water from the tap pierce and lodge between the wefts of the soft fabric of her kitchen rag before using it