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āI put my arms around myself and I'm unbreakable.ā
ćÉĪ¹Ī±ĘĻgĻ Ń cĻĘĻŃ:#BDA0CB ā ŃŠ½ĻĻ gŠ½Ń cĻĘĻŃ #F7B3DAć
|| Demon Slayer || LiSA ||
ćÉĪ¹Ī±ĘĻgĻ Ń cĻĘĻŃ:#BDA0CB ā ŃŠ½ĻĻ gŠ½Ń cĻĘĻŃ #F7B3DAć
|| Demon Slayer || LiSA ||
"We're going to call a press conference," Dr. Hellen and Doc decided after watching Winter perform. She was gaining control over her powers, she could use them deliberately now. "We think it would be best, this way the public can air whatever greivances they have and you can say whatever you feel needs to be said as well." They were sitting in Winter's room, Winter no longer wearing her spirit dress. She was eating lunch, sitting cross legged on a chair, wearing her Mother's gloves once more. "Invite Gordon Grant, he's the one writing the counter articles, it would be good to have him there." Dr. Hellen nodded, jotting it down. Doc crossed his arms, watching her. "Slow down there Winter," he warned, not wanting her to choke. "We'll give you a few notes on what you should say, but we're leaving the rest up to you." She nodded, knowing that she would have to mostly stick to her script.
"I want to reenroll at City Center once this is all over." If they let her, of course. "We reached out, they've already declined." Doc said sternly, "We'll find you a better school, a smaller one with private security." Maybe City Center would change its mind once they watched the press conference? Winter didn't know. "Have Mercedes and Serenity responded to my request to see them?" She asked, picking at the vegetables on her plate. "No, neither have, unfortunately." Hellen shook her head, Winter didn't have their numbers, otherwise she would have texted them herself. She shifted herself, wondering how to bring up the next topic, considering it was one that she wasn't supposed to overhear.
"Claude offered to have his parents... adopt me." Winter said softly, unable to look at them. She didn't want to start trouble, but she was still a child. "They said that their parents agreed to it," she scratched at her arm, feeling slightly uncomfortable bringing the topic up. "Oh Winter," Hellen said softly. Doc shook his head, "You already know why that isn't possible. There is no point in hoping for something impossible," he rose slowly, clearing his throat. "Now rest up, we should have everything set up by tomorrow morning." She nodded, watching him leave, Dr. Hellen staying behind for a moment. "Winter, you're a very bright girl, I'm sure you already understand why something like adoption isn't feasable." She nodded, stirring her ice cream with a spoon. "I know, I just thought-" she cut herself off with a sigh.
"I don't know what I was thinking." She picked up her cane. "I'm gonna take a bath now." She rose, knowing that she would need to scrub hard to get the residue from the stickers off. The tutor came sometime after the bath, then Janet to inform her that preparations for the press meeting were underway. Winter liked to think that Janet secretly enjoyed their visits, even if it was hard to tell. "Summer break is supposed to start soon," Winter swung her legs, she was sitting on the piano bench, Janet standing to the side of the piano. "I'm aware, yes," Janet nodded her head. What would Winter do if she wasn't occupied for 4 hours a day with her studies? She wasn't sure. Surely Doc would find something else for her, or maybe she would study through the summer break?
"How long do you think it'll take before they give up?" Winter asked, indicating to the people picketing her existence outside. As though she had a choice to exist in all of this. "Io'm not sure, humans tend to hold a grudge." Winter took off her gloves and gingerly set them on the bench beside her, Janet adjusting the lid of the piano so she could play. "I want to play at the Opal Theater again," she said softly as her fingers brushed the keys. The pianos there were like no other. "Once this blows over, I'm sure you'll be invited to play again." Janet left sometime after and Winter went to bed that night, feeling discontent.
The next morning, she was nervous. She had never been formally interviewed before. Sure, she had, had plenty of encounters with the press in negative ways, but nothing like a press conference. She brushed her hair carefully and picked out one of her new dresses. Breakfast came a few minutes after she finished preparing and she ate slowly, nervous. A few minutes later, a knock came from the other side of the door. It was time.