Veronica Heathers Musical Novels & Stories

“Take me to my coronation, Lilith.” Veronica took Lilith’s hand and then she thought to herself, ‘this is it. The moment that I have waited for all my life will finally be given to me. Finally, the crown is mine.’ Lilith and Veronica then teleported and appeared in the huge entrance of the ball room. Medieval music then immediately played as the crowd made way for Veronica’s entrance accompanied by Lilith. Veronica walked with her head held high with a proud smile written onto her lips. Her amethyst eyes shined bright as she turned them to everyone who was in the room.

Just one word. ‘SASHA…’ “No…” she whispered. “I can’t be jealous of the future Mrs. Neville-Talbott for having Sasha, for having his love, for having kids with him… I can’t! I’m over him!” It was almost dark when Veronica eventually reached the Hall. The sound of other feet on the gravel momentarily made her freeze until she recognized the familiar shapes of half a dozen inquisitive peacocks and peahens. The cocks were sending their shrill cries of warning up into the still night air. A relieved laugh came out of her lips and she shook her head.

I can’t believe a week ago I pledged my undying love to Joshua Hamilton. This week I am back to being Veronica James. Should I feel bad? I don’t know. Should I feel sad? I also don’t know. I have enough wine to take both away. Veronica ~”Morning Brenda.” Brenda ~”Morning Miss James.” Veronica ~”Anything important for today?” Brenda ~”No but have you read your email yet?” Veronica ~”No. Why?”

They were waiting. A voice drifted from the back of the room, sweet and laced with a deadly, delusional arrogance. "Look who finally decided to come home." Veronica stepped out from behind the altar, bathed in the red moonlight. She was wearing a white gown, pristine against the dark magic of the room. She held a silver remote in her hand like a toy. "You're late, Nash," she smiled, tilting her head. "The party is just beginning." She raised the remote.

The sound behind the camera made Taylor look at me. Taylor’s breath hitched. “That’s…” he started, his voice faltering, then died away. On the screen, laughter erupted. Male voices. A female voice behind the camera giggling. Sabrina’s voice. “Look at her,” the recording said, amusement cutting sharp. “She can barely sit straight.” The seventeen-year-old Veronica’s hand reached weakly for support, her words incomprehensible. But instead of help, Sabrina's voice came again. “She is yours tonight. Do whatever you want. After all, from now on, she will no longer be a Davidson.”

Every nerve in me screamed to stay silent, to swallow it, to bow but the fire that had been sitting quietly in my chest for months flickered to life. I looked at her, not him, and said evenly, “You’re right. I don’t belong to this world. After all, I don’t even abuse and neglect for breakfast” The words came out small, but they felt like rebellion. And maybe that was why Xander’s eyes darkened with something quieter than anger, something far more dangerous. The orchestra hesitated to resume. Veronica’s laughter broke the tension like shattered glass, her hand brushing his sleeve in some theatrical gesture before she walked away, triumphant.

But it was over. Gale shrugged. “It’s none of my business but I would do everything I could to patch that up so you can become the princess and enjoy being deflowered by that marvelous specimen of mankind.” Gale growled playfully. It should have made Veronica laugh but it only made her feel more bitter and she wanted to cry. Veronica stood up. “I’m getting everything together so we can go. Give me 10 minutes.” Roger said, getting up from the table. Veronica stormed outside into the sunlight.

She leans close to say something, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that pushes her cleavage together. Spencer flat-out turns away from her, concentrating his gaze entirely on his food. I can’t help but smirk. I’d interrupt, but I think that would ruin the show. Suddenly, Veronica stands up to leave, but she seems to swoon, tripping and falling towards Spencer. Her eyelids flutter shut like something out of a movie, and she throws her hand melodramatically against her forehead like a damsel in distress. Not only does Spencer avoid helping catch her, but he steps aside, letting her stumble.

Veronica said, deliberately seizing the opportunity. Since Beatrice was in a hurry, she agreed. Veronica secretly smiled devilishly and as she stood up, she looked at the reporter she had paid. She signaled the paparazzi with both eyebrows raised at the same time to carry out their plan to take a picture of her with Beatrice going up on stage and her greetings to Mr. Ethan and a good angle with Calix. Mrs. Beatrice went up on stage followed by Veronica. Annoyance gripped Calix the moment he spotted Veronica making her way towards him.

Mateo played guitar while the teenagers sang off key and laughed at themselves. Ethan moved among them all. He listened. He advised when asked. He stayed silent when silence was better. When the sun reached its zenith he found Veronica in the kitchen preparing lunch. She stood at the counter slicing tomatoes, knife moving in steady rhythm. He came up behind her again. Pressed close. Hands sliding around her waist. “You’re happy,” he murmured against her ear. “I am.” He turned her slowly. Kissed her softly at first. Then deeper. Tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened for him. Hands roaming up her back. Fingers threading through silver hair.