Marley Vane's Story

"You're insane. You're actually insane." Leonard Wyatts squeezed the crown of his head between his palms, fingers laced into his dark curls as her paced the room. "You do know that you could die, right? You know, 'die'? That thing that happens to people when they do extremely stupid stuff for the sake of a headline?!" "First of all, it's not just any headline, it's a front page headline, and second.." The woman speaking glanced around the hire store, before walking over to a rack stocked with uniforms, ".. I'm not 'people'." She took a maid uniform from the rack, inspecting it through the plastic. She turned to the man at the cash register, "Hey, you got anything like this but with less frills and more skirt?" The man nodded blankly, disappearing into the back room and emerging a minute or two later, holding another uniform, this one more modest and realistic than the one before. "Will this do? Marley Vane smirked, talking it and looking it over for a brief moment, before pulling out her wallet, "Perfect." Leonard, one of her co-workers, had moved his hands from his head, and was now wringing them nervously, "I still can't believe you're doing this..." "Believe it." Marley turned to him, and smiled, plucking a waiter's uniform from the wrack and smiling in mock sweetness, "You could come too, you know." "Aha. Yeah, no thanks. I'd rather not get beaten up in a dark alley and thrown into the ocean, thanks." Marley rolled her eyes, and shrugged, "Your loss."

The mansion was.. big. Really big. Immensely big. Very, very large. And from the inside, hell, it was even bigger. Marley couldn't help but be slightly envious, as she saw the expensive trinkets that mounted the fireplace, and the crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Geez, these guys were loaded. Hah, get it? Loaded? As in 'loaded gun'? You know, 'cause they're the Falcones? Erm.. never mind.
Marley glanced around the room once more as she knotted her scarlet locks into a tidy pun, taking a few of the stray, red locks and securing them with a bobby pin. She was subtle as she peered around the room in her fake glasses, unnoticed as she stopped next to chatting guests, and catching snippets of their varying conversations. Her uniform matched those of the other hired staff, which was a relief, the last thing she wanted was to get caught out before she even got something interesting. She spent fifty six bucks on this stupid uniform. She'd rather she'd be able to proudly say 'money well spent'. Not to mention her recorder, which was hidden in the pocket of her blouse, and her camera, which was tucked away in the pocket of her skirt. Both of those had been a rip-off, too. Honestly, the life of a dedicated reporter was really so very taxing.

"Champagne, sir?" Marley offered the glass laden tray to a particularly oily looking guest, and he took one without offering her even a glance or a word of gratitude. Hmph. So even the mafia were assholes. Go figure.

iPhone Archives
9172022021: Hello! This is Marley Vane and I am a soon
to be famous reporter. Is this Ivan Luong? I need to make
sure before I start dropping the bombs.
You: ...you know you should never make bomb references
to someone of Asian decent...
9172022021: Uh, last time I checked...you were Chinese.
Don't make me come over there and hurt you.
Let's be friends!
You: Haha, great. You passed my Is-This-Reporter-A-Bitch
Test! What is it that you need, Marley Vane?

|NUMBER ADDED|

Marley: You should check the accuracy of that test of yours,
Mr. Luong. I am pretty bitchy on my good days. Also funny,
daring, witty, and charming but, hey, whose counting?
An interview with you is what I am after.
Would you be interested?
You: I think I'd much rather interview you, Ms. Vane. I've
ALWAYS wanted to meet someone who was funny, daring, witty,
AND charming. My schedule is wide open next week. When is
good for you?
Marley: Don't leave out the bitchy part. It's not as
prominent but it is just as important.
Can you do a week from today at 2pm?
You: Sounds like a plan to me, Marley. Is there anything
you want me to bring or prepare. The last interviewer made me
put on make up.

-_-

I don't do make up.
Marley: None of that will be necessary. I heard a rumor that
you are coming out with a graphic novel so I want to be the first
person to break the story.
You: How did you hear about that? I haven't told...
Humph, you may actually become that great reporter.
See you next week, Marley Vane. Saying I am looking
forward to meeting you is a piss poor understatement.
Marley: I get that all the time! Thank you, Mr. Luong.


Life wasn't as exciting without Momoe around, fact. Some people lit up rooms when they walked into them. Momoe lit up Ivan's life like none other could and ever would. He secretly wished that he could join her at this party. Ivan wasn't a big party person but he was beyond pro at talking people up. Plus, after his books and this store, he had enough money to at least be considered wealthy. He wasn't in the 1% but he would have scratched the surface of the 10% a lot sooner than later. The Station was making a name for itself and he was getting offers left and right for interviews and for people to sell their nonsense in his store. It was hectic but it was what he wanted. Life wasn't as exciting without Momoe but that didn't mean it wasn't exhilarating already. Owning a successful, "family" owned shop at the age of 31 was unheard of...just how Ivan liked it.

[From Lemur]
[Ridiculous right? I miss my jeans :(]

Ivan couldn't help but think of Momoe's jeans but more importantly what they covered. Momo definitely received a gift from our lord and savior Jesus Christ when she got that ass of hers.

[To Momoe]
[I miss what's under dem jeans, girl. I haven't seen u in almost 2 weeks, woman!]

That was also the sad truth. He's seen more interviewers than his love as of late and it sucked royally.

Oh crap, his interview with Marley was tomorrow! Ivan laughed as he recalled the hilarious conversation he and Marley had with each other over text messaging. There was so much personality in that woman and his body was ready to sit down and talk with her. Ivan was sure the interview would give him a big enough distraction that he could stop missing Momoe, if only for a few hours. I need some air, Ivan thought as he shot up from his favorite seat. He grabbed his leather jacket and headed for the door, "close up the shop for me!" he shouted back to one of the managers before exiting into the crepuscule.

[[In to the fires of Mordor...]]
[Remember, the eye is always watching]

Claudia had quickly applied some red lipstick and scampered on in front of Ricardo. It sounded as if guests were arriving early. Coming down the stairs she put on her black high heels, fluffed her hair, and put on that show stopping smile of hers. Before reaching any of the guests she noticed a red headed maid serving champagne. Claudia looked her over quickly, spotting a price tag sticking out of the girls outfit. The white piece of paper stuck out like a sore thumb against the girls black shirt. Claudia approached the woman. Something was familiar about the red head but Claudia did't want to bother to have small talk with the help. The brunette grabbed a glass of champagne, giving the girl an obvious look over.

"You must be new," she said suspiciously. Claudia had no real suspicions of the woman but that didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun. Though she wasn't suspicious she did think it a little odd. Olga rarely added anyone to the regular party crew, something must of happened. Claudia's hazel eyes searched the girl. Funny looking glasses. Poor child, unable to afford something better. She waited a moment before pointing at the white price tag. "Better fix that," she said cooly before turning around. Claudia would keep her eye on this new maid. She always kept her eyes on the newcomers.

Sipping on her champagne as she watched Ricardo speak with Hiroshi. Next to the Japanese man was a much younger woman but the way that they interacted had Claudia believing that this girl was the much talked about Dragon Princess. Ricardo's words with them were brief because of an interruption from his assistant. Ah, there it was. Claudia had known that Brianna would be surprising Ricardo tonight, Claudia had just hoped that this heart warming reunion would have taken place well before the guests arrived. That was fine though, not everything went according to plan with these sort of things. Claudia slowly walked up behind Ricardo and his dazzling smiling face. His happiness made everything perfectly okay. A small smile crooked her lips as she rubbed his shoulders lightly before lightly saying "I tried to get her here earlier, but you know, Brianna always likes to make an entrance."

Claudia gave Brianna a little wink, then she gave Ric a peck on the neck and a pat on the back. "I'll leave you two to catch up," she said as she trotted off to her next endeavor. Claudia counted all of her ducks. There were quite a few missing, but one that she had expected at least an hour early to the party. Alyssa. With a sigh Claudia asked one of the help if they had seen Miss Mancini. She was in Ricardo's study. Half out of duty and half because she was curious Claudia went to find her. Leaving the part wasn't something too uncommon for the hostess, just as long as everyone else at the party had something to do.

Entering the study quietly Claudia spoke first, taking the first jab at Alyssa. Claudia looked down at her nails almost as if disinterested as she said, "Planning on having a quick fuck up here before the party?" Claudia smiled viciously, "well, he's already downstairs," she said. There was no confirmed information that Alyssa had feelings for Ricardo but Claudia liked to poke sadistically.

"Yukimura-san."
Momoe turned from her father to find the illustrious Ric Falcone standing before them. Momoe plastered on a smile.

"Doa de anata o mitashite inai tame no shazai wa, watashi wa anata ga kon'nani hayaku tōchaku suru yotei shite inakatta."
He said and Momoe arched an eyebrow. She hated to admit it but she was impressed, Japanese was her first language, there was too many times, white men would try to impress her or her father, with shotty Japanese. Ric's enunciation on the otherhand was perfect.
His attention turned to her.

"And this must be Momoe, your daughter?"

Ric said, offering her hand, she gave his hand a gentle shake and a respectful bow.

"It's nice to finally meet you Momoe, your father talks about you often. I've been told many times how beautiful you were, words don't do you justice Yukimura-san." He said and Momoe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "IT is nice to meet you too, Mister Falcone, you honor me with your kinds words." She said with a practiced grace. Dropping her hand, Ric turned to her father while Momoe's eyes darted around the party.

There was a reporter here by the looks of the red hair woman.

"Thank you both for coming. Since I'm being honest Hiroshi, you were probably the only person I was looking forward to seeing tonight. I hate these sort of parties but with you two here maybe we might have a good time after all."

He said and Momoe smiled graciously as he excused himself and she turned back to her father. "I really want that ice cream." She said but she was smiling.

Walking into the party was the easy part, staying away from the alcohol was another. Dressing in a simple grey dress, her hair in curly crimson waves pinned to the side, and cascading down her shoulder. A martini glass in her hand. It was days like these that she missed her husband, Tony. He always dragged her to parties like these, and often would leave her there to do whatever it is that the Family needed. She used to hate him for it, resent the family for it, early mornings and long nights, she hardly was able to see him but as it turns out, he wanted what she did. He wanted out. Tony was trying to make it out. That's what Ric told her that day...

Fiona sat at her chair, thumbing through her phone, and the seemingly endless picture of her and Tony. Tears glossing her blue-green eyes, as she watched how happy they were. She thought she missed him before, she'd complained, bitched even, about how often he was gone, but that was when he came home. She closed her eyes. Now he was gone forever.

The bell to the shop door chimed and Fiona stiffened. "We're closing." She said and then turned to see her brother in law standing at the reception desk.

Fiona got to her feet, believing that he was here for what she'd said at the funeral. She was drunk, and hurting, and that was never a good combination.

"He's dead because of you! He should have been home, with me, but no, he was off doing god knows what for you! He died, for you! It should have been you!" She'd cried, in front of everyone. That was probably not the wisest thing to call out the Don but she had, and now she just knew he was here to 'handle' her.

As he approached, she backed against her work desk, where the 9mil Tony had bought her rested under the table. Just in case.

"What do you want, Ric?" She asked him, there was fear in her voice as hidden behind anger and sadness. Ric looked tense and that did nothing for Fiona's nerves. He shook his head. "I'm not going to hurt you, Fiona." He said somewhat exasperatedly. She didn't relax though. She merely swallowed. "Then what do you want?"

His blue eyes darted to her chair, or more correctly the wall behind it, where her work was on display. Fiona frowned. "You want a tattoo?" She said in disbelief. "Now, for what?"

"Tony." was his answer and there was a silence that fell between them while guilt washed over her. She may have lost a husband, but he'd lost a brother, blood brother at that, someone he'd grown up with, looked after, and here she was acting as if she was the only one that lost someone.
She looked at him then, the pain and grief and guilt in her eyes that matched hers. He blamed himself too it seemed.
"Alright." She said and allowed herself to relax and come forward.
After a long while, they didn't speak of Tony, the night he did, nor his funeral, instead they worked on his piece.

"he loved you, you know." Ric said as she worked on the sketch, her back was too him as he sat in the chair. "I know." Fiona lied, she didn't know for sure, he was gone all the time, and sure when he was home, he barely kept his hands off her but that didn't mean love, hell she was a stripper once, she knew better then anyone sex didn't mean love. "That night..." Ric began and Fiona shook her head. She didn't want to hear about how he died. "Please, Ric, not now." She said, tears glossing her eyes again as she looked at him, but Ric's eyes were steady, "I'm sorry for what I said at the funeral, that wasn't fair, it wasn't your fault so you don't have to explain." She said, her Irish twang dotting her words, a clear sign she was upset. "But I do, he wasn't there for a hit, he was there speaking with some executives, trying to find a way for us to go legit, He loved you, and wanted to focus on you." He said and Fiona dropped her blue pencil, shaking. "What are you saying, Ric, that he...?"
"He wanted out, Fi, he was trying to get out."

Fiona rose the glass to her lips, as tears lined her eyes again. Not here, not now, she told herself. Not today.

"You're nothing like Grandfather, Grandfather was... "You're a good man, Father, Mother always said so, and now I'm starting to believe her." Had he really fallen so low that his owe daughter was just now starting to see him as a good man? His wife had always been an amazing person, standing by him or some times standing up for him through everything. Then there was Grandfather... Hiroshi know some of and had a good idea of the rest of how he was, and it was good to hear she really didn't see him in the same light. He looked at her for a little while longer then, "Thank you. And as far as this party, its get together for our two families and some of our... business associates. At some point I will need to meet with our host but till then, its just a normal party for us to have fun, enjoy ourselves, relax. Drink, mingle, dance. If you want we can share a dance like we did when you were really little back in Japan." He remembers having her stand on his feet as he danced when she was very young, and as she got a little old she no longer needed to stand on him. They also moved onto some harder and more traditional dances. But sadly as she grow even old they stopped dancing together. He then waved for a red haired maid to bring them two glasses of champagne. When she brought the glasses, he respectfully nodded his head at her, "Thank you miss.?" He took out his wallet and handed the help a fifty, then taking both glasses, offered Momoe a glass hoping that it would go better this time. "To us and to a new and better beginning."

Marley had spent the beginning of the evening listening in to snippets of conversation, curiously picking up tidbits of info left and right. One girl chatted casually about her brother 'disposing the body' of her ex in the river. Another giggled about the rapid speed that the drug trade was moving at. Huh. That was worth another listen. Marley edged closer to the group, only to glance up when she saw none other than Claudia Falcone walk up to her. "You must be new." Her voice was riddled with suspicion, but Marley detected a hint of humor in her tone. Messing around with the help, huh? Talk about a bully. Why, Marley might just have a word to Mr Falcone about this mistreatment of staf- Oh. Right. She didn't actually work here.

Reaching to her back, the woman tore off the price tag still attached to her uniform. Oops. "Better fix that." She said with a smile, before disappearing into the crowd once more. Marley took a breath of relief before glancing upwards to her cherry locks. Urgh, she knew she should have worn a wig. But she wasn't all that big of a reporter, so she hadn't bothered. Moron. Oh, well. Claudia had more than likely been simply teasing. And there wasn't really anyone else here that she kne-

Suddenly, her eyes fell upon a handsome, slightly underdressed individual. An individual that, frankly, had no right being here. Well, technically, she didn't either, but that was different. Kind of.

She ducked behind a plant pot, glimpsing at the cop through the green foliage. Yep. He was definitely a policeman. But what the hell was he doing here? Part of Marley, -the enthusiastic, gutsy, reporter part- felt a thrill, itching to find out exactly how the man was connected to the most powerful family in New York. The other part, however, -the smart, survivor part- saw things differently. In a 'well, shit. If this guy recognizes me from my having snooped around the precinct in the past, I am pretty darn screwed.'

She bit her lip, continuing the play the part of the harmless maid, as a gentleman she noted as the leader of the Yakuza took a drink from her, and gave her a fifty (Sweet. At least this night wasn't completely useless. Unless, of course, she gets murdered. But whatever) all whilst staying out of view of the cop. Yep. I should have definitely worn a wig.

Time passed, and the sound of music and laughter grew louder. Alyssa had just finished going over all the paper work, when the grating voice reached her ears. She smiled almost bitterly to herself. Cruel wasn't a strong enough work to describe Claudia. Yet, Alyssa was not one to back down. Both women had been rubbing each other the wrong way since Claudia had clawed her way into Ric's life.

"Claudia." Alyssa smiled overly friendly, turning to face the poignant woman. "Now, now. Green really doesn't suit you." Alyssa moved towards Claudia stopping before her. "Crass as always. It's nice to see you too." She continued to smile before her expression turned to that of mock shock. "You're wearing clothes!? Lovely dress. What is it? Walmart? Target? Definitely, a step up from the Thrift shop were you must of shopped before Ric decided to . . . Well," Alyssa continued with an amused twinge to her lips. She was not in a mood to take Claudia's shit tonight. "Ric has always had a place in his heart for the less fortunate. Charity starts at home after all. Downstairs did you say?" Alyssa brushed passed the absinthian woman, knocking Claudia's shoulder.

Alyssa was sure Claudia knew after her feelings for Ric. Maybe, she wondered as she made her way down the stairs; Claudia and she could have been friends, if they had not been in love with the same man . . . Alyssa smirked, realising her ideal thinking was exactly that. Ideal. And untrue. Claudia was gauche. She was so very . . . common. And nothing could ever change that. No matter how much she may try to elevate herself in the world. No matter how she tried to play the gracious hostess; what was out of Claudia's power to change was where she came from.

Standing on the fringes of the clamorous room, Alyssa grabbed a glass off the tray of a passing waitress. She was going to need it by the looks of it. The look of disgust of Nick Quinn's face as he entered matched Alyssa's own thoughts. What had she walked into? It was like she had walked into the Twilight Zone. Yukimura was there dancing with his daughter as if they were at her cotillion.

Her eyes searched for Ric but he was nowhere to be seen. Claudia's words rang in her ears. Claudia's jealousy did not give her the pleasure Alyssa had always thought it would. Because Claudia didn't matter. She was just a blip. And blips faded, in time . . . Or disappeared.