Introduction
The TV clicks on in your living room, local electronics department store, and work breakrooms. It's usually the pretty blonde or tall dark and handsome male in an anchorman's suit. All they seem to be talking about is the one-woman sensation: Dianthus The images that follow appear on the screen after each few choice words.
"You've seen her face all around the world, from London, to Tokyo, to Australia, even the United States & Canada. This young. attractice woman, Dianthus is on the verge of being wealthy enough to be friends with billionaires Oprah Winfrey and Bill Gates.
With huge success as an actress as a young girl, and a songstress and singer after her parents pulled her out of private school after her freshman year of high school, Dianthus was provided the perfect upbringing for her destined stardom. Tickets are sold out throughout the world, from the moment they hit ticketmaster for this woman who has the voice of soul and passion filled through powerful lyrics melted in to modern day textures and tempos. How does this one woman do it all - despite the amazing childhood? Here's the exclusive! Keep tuned in, folks!
It's hard to fail with parents like Aimee Bell and the recently deceased Jason Bell leading you every step of the way - the very same way they've lead us all with their words and song. Aimee Bell, if you remember, is most famous for her recent work with Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, and Gwen Stefani as one of their many personal hair stylists, make-up artists, and dresser. It's been said that she's dolled up our little princess since she was born, taking her with her to the red carpet affairs that she and husband Jason were invited to. No doubt, Dianthus's style comes from her mother's side, but what about her father's influence?
Jason Bell, guitar and vocal legend as leader of the band Diagnonense alongside four other members found his fame like every one else - but with drugs and alcohol ON the menu, ladies and gentlemen! But who can blame the man? He must have dealt with stress day in and out with all the publicity he received from not only his band, but for the controversial rumored story still surfing the internet channel of how he stole the hand of (then) Aimee Vikresburg from Multi-millionaire and inventor, Travis Ward. Rumor has it that Ward and Vikresburg were dating for eight years and then engaged before Jason stole the show - but the question is, why did he chose her when he could have had any one else? Well, his answer to us back then was, "Well, why not?"
What a great wedding that was, and then along came the star of our exclusive - Dianthus. -- It's too bad about her father, though. -- Yeah, what happened there, anyhow? -- Well, the 'diagnonsense' if you'll take my pun was that Jason Bell was found, like so many other greats like Elvis Presley and such, passed out in the bathroom. Drug overdose, no doubt. -- Anything else at the scene? -- Haha, well, that's classified, isn't it? They wouldn't give us that information if we paid them-, well, I suppose they're richer than we could offer anyway! (They laugh)
That's alright, though, Jason Bell, because your daughter has become three times as popular as you are. By the way folks, the latest album: Born to Die, supposedly a tribute to her late father and how she feels about the situation, comes out in just two short weeks to your local music store! But, you can call the number at the bottom of the screen NOW and receive it a week earlier through amazon and itunes. Once again, that number is...."
He flicked off the TV, disgusted with rage and cold blooded murder. He tried as much as he could to spit out the bad taste in his mouth...
Taking place in...
United States & Canada our primary setting
The home country. Most of her performances are within this location.
- 23 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors
The TV clicks on in your living room, local electronics department store, and work breakrooms. It's usually the pretty blonde or tall dark and handsome male in an anchorman's suit. All they seem to be talking about is the one-woman sensation: Dianthus
"You've seen her face all around the world, from London, to Tokyo, to Australia, even the United States & Canada. This young. attractice woman, Dianthus is on the verge of being wealthy enough to be friends with billionaires Oprah Winfrey and Bill Gates.
With huge success as an actress as a young girl, and a songstress and singer after her parents pulled her out of private school after her freshman year of high school, Dianthus was provided the perfect upbringing for her destined stardom. Tickets are sold out throughout the world, from the moment they hit ticketmaster for this woman who has the voice of soul and passion filled through powerful lyrics melted in to modern day textures and tempos. How does this one woman do it all - despite the amazing childhood? Here's the exclusive! Keep tuned in, folks!
It's hard to fail with parents like Aimee Bell and the recently deceased Jason Bell leading you every step of the way - the very same way they've lead us all with their words and song. Aimee Bell, if you remember, is most famous for her recent work with Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, and Gwen Stefani as one of their many personal hair stylists, make-up artists, and dresser. It's been said that she's dolled up our little princess since she was born, taking her with her to the red carpet affairs that she and husband Jason were invited to. No doubt, Dianthus's style comes from her mother's side, but what about her father's influence?
Jason Bell, guitar and vocal legend as leader of the band Diagnonense alongside four other members found his fame like every one else - but with drugs and alcohol ON the menu, ladies and gentlemen! But who can blame the man? He must have dealt with stress day in and out with all the publicity he received from not only his band, but for the controversial rumored story still surfing the internet channel of how he stole the hand of (then) Aimee Vikresburg from Multi-millionaire and inventor, Travis Ward. Rumor has it that Ward and Vikresburg were dating for eight years and then engaged before Jason stole the show - but the question is, why did he chose her when he could have had any one else? Well, his answer to us back then was, "Well, why not?"
What a great wedding that was, and then along came the star of our exclusive - Dianthus. -- It's too bad about her father, though. -- Yeah, what happened there, anyhow? -- Well, the 'diagnonsense' if you'll take my pun was that Jason Bell was found, like so many other greats like Elvis Presley and such, passed out in the bathroom. Drug overdose, no doubt. -- Anything else at the scene? -- Haha, well, that's classified, isn't it? They wouldn't give us that information if we paid them-, well, I suppose they're richer than we could offer anyway! (They laugh)
That's alright, though, Jason Bell, because your daughter has become three times as popular as you are. By the way folks, the latest album: Born to Die, supposedly a tribute to her late father and how she feels about the situation, comes out in just two short weeks to your local music store! But, you can call the number at the bottom of the screen NOW and receive it a week earlier through amazon and itunes. Once again, that number is...."
He flicked off the TV, disgusted with rage and cold blooded murder. He tried as much as he could to spit out the bad taste in his mouth...
Current time: 8:37pm -- The top floor of The Gala'vox Hotel, New York City, New York
The party was loud, the room was decorated in overly lavished design, and the music was so dull and orchestrated that no one was bothering to dance but the older wealthy couples who'd finished dinner and had too much to drink. In her own corner Dianthus let out a laugh, holding her her wine glass with her right fingers delicately laced around the thin spine. She wasn't sure what had been said, but she knew it was rude not to laugh at a joke.
Bowing her head, she excused herself from the present company and escaped to the hall of the grand ballroom until she found a ladies' bathroom. It was for one person, and very up-done with expensive brands and shines all over. She brought herself over to the sink, setting down her glass to the side before placing her hands up at her hair, pulling it back into it's messy bun. It was all for nothing, this party, and that always put her in the worst mood. She would rather be granting an appearance to a charity function, but instead, she gets dragged to the party of the century because her publicist never takes a vacation! Straightening herself up, she turned in the mirror to glance at the side of her head and the the backside of her dress. The flower stayed in it's place at the base of her bun, allowing her dress to leave nothing to the imagination of what she really looks like from behind. Thoroughly satisfied, and a breath well taken, she pushed against the door to leave the room.
And managed to, like the poor clutz she is, smack it right in the face of a man she didn't know who happened by. She brought up a hand to her lips, her eyes wide. Embarrassment turned to horror as she spotted the trickles of blood beginning down his nose. On a quick thought, she looked around for anyone to be watching and reached for his arm, attempting to pull him in to bathroom she'd just left. Closing the door behind her, she finally spoke, frantically humiliated. "I'm so very sorry, very sorry about your nose. Hold still and I can wipe it, okay? I'm sure there's something in here that will work."
Before he could respond she spun around, looking up in the cabinet pantry for a spare hand-towel. Naturally, she found the most expensive out of internal spite for the party and decided it would be the best to ruin with blood. Turning back to him, she let out a laugh, shaking her head as she poured some warm water from the spout on the cloth and brought it over to him. "Come on, lean your head back on the back of the toilet. It'll stop soon. - Oooh, did I break it? God, I hope not." As he leaned back, she dotted his face with the wet portion of the towel, biting her lip as she leaned over him for a better view.
When the bleeding finally stopped, she let out another laugh and winked, "I really am sorry. You'll be okay, now?" Without another word, she fluttered out the door with her dress trailing behind her. Back to the ballroom, to forget any of it ever happened and to put as much distance between the awkward encounter as possible before word got out to the magazines that she was 'assaulting' patrons and celebrities in passing. -- Or dragging them to the bathroom with her during a party. How scandalous! My publicist would have a field day.
From across the room, an older man who'd spotted her during the whole thing let out a grin, making his way through the crowd to be social.
"You've seen her face all around the world, from London, to Tokyo, to Australia, even the United States & Canada. This young. attractice woman, Dianthus is on the verge of being wealthy enough to be friends with billionaires Oprah Winfrey and Bill Gates.
With huge success as an actress as a young girl, and a songstress and singer after her parents pulled her out of private school after her freshman year of high school, Dianthus was provided the perfect upbringing for her destined stardom. Tickets are sold out throughout the world, from the moment they hit ticketmaster for this woman who has the voice of soul and passion filled through powerful lyrics melted in to modern day textures and tempos. How does this one woman do it all - despite the amazing childhood? Here's the exclusive! Keep tuned in, folks!
It's hard to fail with parents like Aimee Bell and the recently deceased Jason Bell leading you every step of the way - the very same way they've lead us all with their words and song. Aimee Bell, if you remember, is most famous for her recent work with Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, and Gwen Stefani as one of their many personal hair stylists, make-up artists, and dresser. It's been said that she's dolled up our little princess since she was born, taking her with her to the red carpet affairs that she and husband Jason were invited to. No doubt, Dianthus's style comes from her mother's side, but what about her father's influence?
Jason Bell, guitar and vocal legend as leader of the band Diagnonense alongside four other members found his fame like every one else - but with drugs and alcohol ON the menu, ladies and gentlemen! But who can blame the man? He must have dealt with stress day in and out with all the publicity he received from not only his band, but for the controversial rumored story still surfing the internet channel of how he stole the hand of (then) Aimee Vikresburg from Multi-millionaire and inventor, Travis Ward. Rumor has it that Ward and Vikresburg were dating for eight years and then engaged before Jason stole the show - but the question is, why did he chose her when he could have had any one else? Well, his answer to us back then was, "Well, why not?"
What a great wedding that was, and then along came the star of our exclusive - Dianthus. -- It's too bad about her father, though. -- Yeah, what happened there, anyhow? -- Well, the 'diagnonsense' if you'll take my pun was that Jason Bell was found, like so many other greats like Elvis Presley and such, passed out in the bathroom. Drug overdose, no doubt. -- Anything else at the scene? -- Haha, well, that's classified, isn't it? They wouldn't give us that information if we paid them-, well, I suppose they're richer than we could offer anyway! (They laugh)
That's alright, though, Jason Bell, because your daughter has become three times as popular as you are. By the way folks, the latest album: Born to Die, supposedly a tribute to her late father and how she feels about the situation, comes out in just two short weeks to your local music store! But, you can call the number at the bottom of the screen NOW and receive it a week earlier through amazon and itunes. Once again, that number is...."
He flicked off the TV, disgusted with rage and cold blooded murder. He tried as much as he could to spit out the bad taste in his mouth...
Current time: 8:37pm -- The top floor of The Gala'vox Hotel, New York City, New York
The party was loud, the room was decorated in overly lavished design, and the music was so dull and orchestrated that no one was bothering to dance but the older wealthy couples who'd finished dinner and had too much to drink. In her own corner Dianthus let out a laugh, holding her her wine glass with her right fingers delicately laced around the thin spine. She wasn't sure what had been said, but she knew it was rude not to laugh at a joke.
Bowing her head, she excused herself from the present company and escaped to the hall of the grand ballroom until she found a ladies' bathroom. It was for one person, and very up-done with expensive brands and shines all over. She brought herself over to the sink, setting down her glass to the side before placing her hands up at her hair, pulling it back into it's messy bun. It was all for nothing, this party, and that always put her in the worst mood. She would rather be granting an appearance to a charity function, but instead, she gets dragged to the party of the century because her publicist never takes a vacation! Straightening herself up, she turned in the mirror to glance at the side of her head and the the backside of her dress. The flower stayed in it's place at the base of her bun, allowing her dress to leave nothing to the imagination of what she really looks like from behind. Thoroughly satisfied, and a breath well taken, she pushed against the door to leave the room.
And managed to, like the poor clutz she is, smack it right in the face of a man she didn't know who happened by. She brought up a hand to her lips, her eyes wide. Embarrassment turned to horror as she spotted the trickles of blood beginning down his nose. On a quick thought, she looked around for anyone to be watching and reached for his arm, attempting to pull him in to bathroom she'd just left. Closing the door behind her, she finally spoke, frantically humiliated. "I'm so very sorry, very sorry about your nose. Hold still and I can wipe it, okay? I'm sure there's something in here that will work."
Before he could respond she spun around, looking up in the cabinet pantry for a spare hand-towel. Naturally, she found the most expensive out of internal spite for the party and decided it would be the best to ruin with blood. Turning back to him, she let out a laugh, shaking her head as she poured some warm water from the spout on the cloth and brought it over to him. "Come on, lean your head back on the back of the toilet. It'll stop soon. - Oooh, did I break it? God, I hope not." As he leaned back, she dotted his face with the wet portion of the towel, biting her lip as she leaned over him for a better view.
When the bleeding finally stopped, she let out another laugh and winked, "I really am sorry. You'll be okay, now?" Without another word, she fluttered out the door with her dress trailing behind her. Back to the ballroom, to forget any of it ever happened and to put as much distance between the awkward encounter as possible before word got out to the magazines that she was 'assaulting' patrons and celebrities in passing. -- Or dragging them to the bathroom with her during a party. How scandalous! My publicist would have a field day.
From across the room, an older man who'd spotted her during the whole thing let out a grin, making his way through the crowd to be social.
"Don't complain too much, Biggsy," the older gentleman said. "You're going to be pulling in some serious dough off of this job. Maybe you'll actually be able to set yourself in some better digs than that shithole you're staying in now." The man's voice flowed from his lips in a rich baritone that didn't much fit his body, but Jackson had grown accustomed to it during his tenure at the man's firm. It was soothing to him in a way, now. Jackson nodded once and sucked in a long, deep pull from his cigarette. The cherry was dangerously close to the filter by now, and he could feel the heat from the burning ember on his thumb and forefinger.
"I'm just not terribly fond of the whole idea of being a glorified babysitter, Ralph," Jackson replied, flipping the cigarette out and over the cement wall that separated the third level of the parking garage from the treetops beyond.
"Then you got into the wrong business, son," Ralph replied with a chuckle, clapping his hand on Jackson's shoulder. "At least you've got something to look at on this one: The girl's a looker, that's for certain. Did you see her on the cover of the Rolling Stone last month? I swear, if I was about ten years younger and thirty pounds lighter-"
"-your wife would've grabbed you by the ear and pulled your lecherous ass home, kicking and screaming."
"Yeah, well, why don't you stop busting my balls and let me have my little fantasies, Biggsy," Ralph asked, feigning irritation. He was trying to look angry, but the whole facade kind of got thrown off with the corners of his mouth starting to tug up into a smile. "Point is, stop being a little bitch and let's go meet the dame and her over-protective mother, aye?" Jackson tugged at the bottom of his suit jacket to smooth out the wrinkles around his shoulders and slipped a little black earbud into his right ear..
"Yeah, yeah," he said with a sigh. "Let's go mingle with the tippy-top of the social hierarchy."
"Did you find her," Ralph asked, the old man's voice ringing through Jackson's head. Hearing Ralph was usually good news, but not after he'd just been brained with a door by the woman that he was supposed to be protecting. He could already feel the headache surging forward, and none of the cacophony around him was doing any kind of good at staving it off.
"I think the bitch might have broken my nose with the fucking bathroom door," Jackson replied through clenched teeth. He heard what sounded like a chuckle on Ralph's end. The old man coughed and pulled himself back together before any of the laughter could fully escape.
"Need I remind you," Ralph said, "that we're around several hundred people that have more influence in this town than either of us could ever think about having? I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from the cussing till you're in the company of only your own ears. I'm with the mother right now."
"Well, the b-i-star-star-h is moving back towards the crowd," Jackson growled. "You and the mother move to intercept, and I'll just lay back for a moment so I don't, you know, offend the socialite with my horrendous use of the English language."
"Good plan."
"I'm just not terribly fond of the whole idea of being a glorified babysitter, Ralph," Jackson replied, flipping the cigarette out and over the cement wall that separated the third level of the parking garage from the treetops beyond.
"Then you got into the wrong business, son," Ralph replied with a chuckle, clapping his hand on Jackson's shoulder. "At least you've got something to look at on this one: The girl's a looker, that's for certain. Did you see her on the cover of the Rolling Stone last month? I swear, if I was about ten years younger and thirty pounds lighter-"
"-your wife would've grabbed you by the ear and pulled your lecherous ass home, kicking and screaming."
"Yeah, well, why don't you stop busting my balls and let me have my little fantasies, Biggsy," Ralph asked, feigning irritation. He was trying to look angry, but the whole facade kind of got thrown off with the corners of his mouth starting to tug up into a smile. "Point is, stop being a little bitch and let's go meet the dame and her over-protective mother, aye?" Jackson tugged at the bottom of his suit jacket to smooth out the wrinkles around his shoulders and slipped a little black earbud into his right ear..
"Yeah, yeah," he said with a sigh. "Let's go mingle with the tippy-top of the social hierarchy."
**************
"Did you find her," Ralph asked, the old man's voice ringing through Jackson's head. Hearing Ralph was usually good news, but not after he'd just been brained with a door by the woman that he was supposed to be protecting. He could already feel the headache surging forward, and none of the cacophony around him was doing any kind of good at staving it off.
"I think the bitch might have broken my nose with the fucking bathroom door," Jackson replied through clenched teeth. He heard what sounded like a chuckle on Ralph's end. The old man coughed and pulled himself back together before any of the laughter could fully escape.
"Need I remind you," Ralph said, "that we're around several hundred people that have more influence in this town than either of us could ever think about having? I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from the cussing till you're in the company of only your own ears. I'm with the mother right now."
"Well, the b-i-star-star-h is moving back towards the crowd," Jackson growled. "You and the mother move to intercept, and I'll just lay back for a moment so I don't, you know, offend the socialite with my horrendous use of the English language."
"Good plan."
Widower Aimee Bell would always be a sight to see. Her hair fell at great lengths, rich and black as velvet. It curled naturally, creating a silhouette the lower it fell down her back. Not that she was in any way, shape, or form 'large' or 'gaining weight', but you never can be too careful when your husband's just died -- or murdered. Smokey eyes rested on the man next to her, judging him from the moment he walked through the door. You could always tell who the people who weren't 'part of the crowd' were, especially when they singled you out and made a bee line. In upper circles, everyone thinks they're the next big thing, the cat's pajamas... And if you believe this, then you know the people will come to you, not the other way around.
The second clue was the way he spoke flatteringly, as if there was no scripture laced in with each word. His name was Ralph - a seemingly important business-worthy name. Aimee had taken it upon herself to seek him out. It was true that her daughter Lorelei already had protection - it came with the fame, but this matter was different altogether. Especially when she suspected foul play for her husband's death, and that it could all be related.
"Ralph, Where is he?" She spoke expectantly. The woman looked in her thirties, but her tone set off the truth about hitting fifty. Next month. Maternal, demanding, impatient.
After a moment's reassurance that whoever the man was would arrive, Aimee let her eyes scatter across the room, resting only on her daughter's form. It wasn't hard to find the one person in the room dancing by herself. She never understood it, either. Her daughter was beautiful. Modest, rather than vain, but she had to know she could have anyone. Preferably someone with money in their pocket, but then Aimee would be a hypocrite if she told her not to fall for love over material. Wasn't that how Travis and she split things off? It was rude of him, telling the tabloids that she was stolen by the only man she ever truly loved... At first sight. But, when you're heart-broken, who can blame you. Especially when you have all the money in the world to back up what you say, whether it's truth or lie.
Travis. There's an idea.
"Ralph, are we still on to meet in two days? The Charlotte Hotel?" Her voice was low, a murmur to any but his ears. "I have some more.. ideas on the situation."
Flight of the Eagle by Brian Crain came on, and for once Lorelei recognized it. She tilted her head upward, catching her mother's gaze from across the way. She smiled, waving friendly, and her mother beckoned her forth. It was ridiculous how a mother could still treat you like a child, no matter your age. That was precisely the reason Lorelei insisted on moving out. Coincidentally, it was a month before her father's death, and Aimee Bell had tried desperately to guilt her daughter to 'come home', but there was no way she could return to the house of the dead man.
Was that what she was referring to her father as now?
It wasn't as if he'd been a terrible father. He hadn't been around enough to really make an impression on her, despite the commentary on every interview their family had been given together. They were the 'American-Hollywood Family', a success story for the business and keeping it about family - rather than the sex and drugs. Too bad the sex and drugs couldn't be kept out of the family. Jason Bell was adulterous, a drug-addict until the day he died, despite rehabilitation and threats from Aimee about leaving and taking the money with her. The Pre-nup strictly stated that in the event of a relaspe, the money, the fortune, the fame was all hers. And that the tabloids would be given full exposure to his events.
Of course, she never gave in and went through with it. No, her balls shriveled back up the moment he came crying to her about how they were the family of america, and if they gave up, who would anyone have to look up to?
Lorelei vomitted a little in her mouth just thinking about it. Instead, she spun around, dancing with herself. Eventually, she found the arms of a few gentlemen that were no doubt thrust her way by their mothers, publicists, or even Aimee Bell herself, but she smiled through it all and gave them their two minutes of fame. I danced with Dianthus! - She laughed, thinking about the tabloids or newspaper articles. Was every move she did, every motion she took going to be watched for the rest of her life?
Certainly not. Don't forget the plan.
Ahh, the plan. Once this gig was up, she was heading back home. Her home. The blinds will be down, the doors locked, the lights out. Nobody's home. Maybe they'd buy it. It didn't matter, because she wasn't coming out for a good long week, so kindly fuck off. Honestly, Montana never sounded so good in her whole life. Maybe she'd bother to sneak out every once and a while to play with the horses on the neighboring ranch, or take a night stroll through the Podunkville town she was located on the outskirts of. It would be perfect. Slap on some make up, a wig, and a pair of shades and she'd be ... She'd be... Tara Hill, aspiring artist trying to make a living to get to the big city.
Well, it was a start, okay? And she'd only be 'Tara' for a week anyhow. She couldn't afford much else with the schedule and pressure she was under. The tour was over, but the Euro-tour started in eight weeks and there would be physical training, choreography, and ... a lot of publicity. Maybe I can sneak in a charity or something... Save a farm. I don't know.
A few minutes later, the song ended, and the man dancing with her's obvious interest in her.. breasts caused Lorelei to sweetly laugh at whatever he'd joked about before bringing him with her to meet her mother, who was about to have a cow waiting on her daughter's attendance to whatever her and this stranger were talking about.
Oh God. Tell me this isn't the father of this awkward guy next to me. Mom....
"Dianthus, this is Ralph." No last name? Were they friends?
"It's a pleasure, Ralph." Emphasize on the, 'who the fuck is this guy?'.
"And who is your friend, dear?"
"I have no Earthly idea." She beamed, looking over at him. Perhaps now was the best time to tease her mother. "But I'm thinking about taking him with me to the bathroom, if you know what I mean. I just came out with another already. I think I left him bac--"
"Lorelei Lynn!" She grew aggressive, reaching for her daughter's arm and yanking it so that she was pulled towards the woman about two feet away from the gentlemen in quesiton. Her dance partner's wide eyes were more priceless than her mother's snarl. After a few short words with 'Ralph', he was dismissed. No doubt to tell the whole story of how he slept with Dianthus. Good luck with your life, kid. She mused, but her mother demanded her attention.
"How dare you."
"Mother, we're only here because Henry insisted it was good publicity. I don't even want to be here."
"Show a little respect. With opportunity comes responsibility. Hold your chin up." She snapped, bringing a finger beneath the girl's mouth to lift her head up. "That Ralph is a very important man. Do not embarrass me. Do you understand? The people here? Fine. Have your fun and make a fool of yourself. See if I care! But this man, you will not humiliate me in front of, or so help me--"
"Good grief, it's been how long and you're already shacking up?"
"Unlike some ungrateful daughters, my mind is always on the family business! And your livelihood!" Her tone was serious, though her volume remained low and controlling. "Now, we are going to go back there and you're going to talk with Ralph. Even if you escape my grip tonight, young lady, you will be there for brunch in a couple of days. Do I make myself clear?"
I'll be in Podunkville by then. Har-har. "Yes, mother. Of course, I do." Her tone mocked the woman, but was sincere enough to get the grip on her arm loosened. A red mark showed on her pale skin, so she covered it up with her free hand, holding her arm with a shy smile, returning to Ralph's now-empty side with her mother.
The second clue was the way he spoke flatteringly, as if there was no scripture laced in with each word. His name was Ralph - a seemingly important business-worthy name. Aimee had taken it upon herself to seek him out. It was true that her daughter Lorelei already had protection - it came with the fame, but this matter was different altogether. Especially when she suspected foul play for her husband's death, and that it could all be related.
"Ralph, Where is he?" She spoke expectantly. The woman looked in her thirties, but her tone set off the truth about hitting fifty. Next month. Maternal, demanding, impatient.
After a moment's reassurance that whoever the man was would arrive, Aimee let her eyes scatter across the room, resting only on her daughter's form. It wasn't hard to find the one person in the room dancing by herself. She never understood it, either. Her daughter was beautiful. Modest, rather than vain, but she had to know she could have anyone. Preferably someone with money in their pocket, but then Aimee would be a hypocrite if she told her not to fall for love over material. Wasn't that how Travis and she split things off? It was rude of him, telling the tabloids that she was stolen by the only man she ever truly loved... At first sight. But, when you're heart-broken, who can blame you. Especially when you have all the money in the world to back up what you say, whether it's truth or lie.
Travis. There's an idea.
"Ralph, are we still on to meet in two days? The Charlotte Hotel?" Her voice was low, a murmur to any but his ears. "I have some more.. ideas on the situation."
Flight of the Eagle by Brian Crain came on, and for once Lorelei recognized it. She tilted her head upward, catching her mother's gaze from across the way. She smiled, waving friendly, and her mother beckoned her forth. It was ridiculous how a mother could still treat you like a child, no matter your age. That was precisely the reason Lorelei insisted on moving out. Coincidentally, it was a month before her father's death, and Aimee Bell had tried desperately to guilt her daughter to 'come home', but there was no way she could return to the house of the dead man.
Was that what she was referring to her father as now?
It wasn't as if he'd been a terrible father. He hadn't been around enough to really make an impression on her, despite the commentary on every interview their family had been given together. They were the 'American-Hollywood Family', a success story for the business and keeping it about family - rather than the sex and drugs. Too bad the sex and drugs couldn't be kept out of the family. Jason Bell was adulterous, a drug-addict until the day he died, despite rehabilitation and threats from Aimee about leaving and taking the money with her. The Pre-nup strictly stated that in the event of a relaspe, the money, the fortune, the fame was all hers. And that the tabloids would be given full exposure to his events.
Of course, she never gave in and went through with it. No, her balls shriveled back up the moment he came crying to her about how they were the family of america, and if they gave up, who would anyone have to look up to?
Lorelei vomitted a little in her mouth just thinking about it. Instead, she spun around, dancing with herself. Eventually, she found the arms of a few gentlemen that were no doubt thrust her way by their mothers, publicists, or even Aimee Bell herself, but she smiled through it all and gave them their two minutes of fame. I danced with Dianthus! - She laughed, thinking about the tabloids or newspaper articles. Was every move she did, every motion she took going to be watched for the rest of her life?
Certainly not. Don't forget the plan.
Ahh, the plan. Once this gig was up, she was heading back home. Her home. The blinds will be down, the doors locked, the lights out. Nobody's home. Maybe they'd buy it. It didn't matter, because she wasn't coming out for a good long week, so kindly fuck off. Honestly, Montana never sounded so good in her whole life. Maybe she'd bother to sneak out every once and a while to play with the horses on the neighboring ranch, or take a night stroll through the Podunkville town she was located on the outskirts of. It would be perfect. Slap on some make up, a wig, and a pair of shades and she'd be ... She'd be... Tara Hill, aspiring artist trying to make a living to get to the big city.
Well, it was a start, okay? And she'd only be 'Tara' for a week anyhow. She couldn't afford much else with the schedule and pressure she was under. The tour was over, but the Euro-tour started in eight weeks and there would be physical training, choreography, and ... a lot of publicity. Maybe I can sneak in a charity or something... Save a farm. I don't know.
A few minutes later, the song ended, and the man dancing with her's obvious interest in her.. breasts caused Lorelei to sweetly laugh at whatever he'd joked about before bringing him with her to meet her mother, who was about to have a cow waiting on her daughter's attendance to whatever her and this stranger were talking about.
Oh God. Tell me this isn't the father of this awkward guy next to me. Mom....
"Dianthus, this is Ralph." No last name? Were they friends?
"It's a pleasure, Ralph." Emphasize on the, 'who the fuck is this guy?'.
"And who is your friend, dear?"
"I have no Earthly idea." She beamed, looking over at him. Perhaps now was the best time to tease her mother. "But I'm thinking about taking him with me to the bathroom, if you know what I mean. I just came out with another already. I think I left him bac--"
"Lorelei Lynn!" She grew aggressive, reaching for her daughter's arm and yanking it so that she was pulled towards the woman about two feet away from the gentlemen in quesiton. Her dance partner's wide eyes were more priceless than her mother's snarl. After a few short words with 'Ralph', he was dismissed. No doubt to tell the whole story of how he slept with Dianthus. Good luck with your life, kid. She mused, but her mother demanded her attention.
"How dare you."
"Mother, we're only here because Henry insisted it was good publicity. I don't even want to be here."
"Show a little respect. With opportunity comes responsibility. Hold your chin up." She snapped, bringing a finger beneath the girl's mouth to lift her head up. "That Ralph is a very important man. Do not embarrass me. Do you understand? The people here? Fine. Have your fun and make a fool of yourself. See if I care! But this man, you will not humiliate me in front of, or so help me--"
"Good grief, it's been how long and you're already shacking up?"
"Unlike some ungrateful daughters, my mind is always on the family business! And your livelihood!" Her tone was serious, though her volume remained low and controlling. "Now, we are going to go back there and you're going to talk with Ralph. Even if you escape my grip tonight, young lady, you will be there for brunch in a couple of days. Do I make myself clear?"
I'll be in Podunkville by then. Har-har. "Yes, mother. Of course, I do." Her tone mocked the woman, but was sincere enough to get the grip on her arm loosened. A red mark showed on her pale skin, so she covered it up with her free hand, holding her arm with a shy smile, returning to Ralph's now-empty side with her mother.
"Biggsy?"
Jackson looked up from a sink in the men's bathroom to study his reflection for a moment: The skin on and around his nose was red and still sore to the touch, and he could already see some bruises beginning to form in the hollows under his eyes, but every seemed to aligned and it didn't hurt too terribly bad to breathe, which was a good sign all on it's own. "It's not broken," Jackson said as he took a wet paper towel and scrubbed at the dried blood under his nose. "What's the situation?"
"I've got the girl and her mother in the mezzanine seating above the ballroom," Ralph replied. "Needed to get the girl out of the crowd before I had another 'eligible bachelor' sweep her off to parts unknown. How quick can you be up here?"
"Four minutes," Jackson replied, tossing the paper towel into a nearby trash bin. "You gonna be okay watching the happy family until I get there?"
"Hustle, please," Ralph said, his voice dropping barely above a whisper so only Jackson could hear. "The Hulk would have a hard time keep these two separated. They're like two pissed off alleycats. And bring me a Scotch on the rocks, por favor."
"I didn't think we were allowed to drink on the job, bossman," Jackson teased. He pushed open the bathroom door and began to force his way through the crowd of giggling aristocrats and celebrities toward the open bar.
"Like I said. Pissed off alleycats."
Jackson entered the mezzanine seating quietly, a glass of scotch in one hand and a flute of wine in the other, just as Ralph was checking the door to the stairs for probably the hundredth time. "There he is," Ralph said with a smile as he stood and moved toward Jackson as swiftly as a bigger man could. "Miss Bell, this is-"
"Jackson Biggs," Jackson finished with a smile and a curt nod. "I guess the old man's probably told you enough about me for you to already know that, though." Ralph snatched the scotch and the wine from Jackson's hand and handed Aimee the wine with a nod that almost matched Jackson's.
"Remind me never to talk highly of you anymore if that's how you're going to act," Ralph replied with a chuckle as he took a sip of his whiskey. "And Jackson, this is Miss Bell's daughter, Lorelei. Also known as Dianthus." Jackson looked to the younger redhead and nodded.
"We've met already, I believe," he said pointing to his own nose. "But a formal introduction does't hurt. Not as bad ass the door did, I mean."
Jackson looked up from a sink in the men's bathroom to study his reflection for a moment: The skin on and around his nose was red and still sore to the touch, and he could already see some bruises beginning to form in the hollows under his eyes, but every seemed to aligned and it didn't hurt too terribly bad to breathe, which was a good sign all on it's own. "It's not broken," Jackson said as he took a wet paper towel and scrubbed at the dried blood under his nose. "What's the situation?"
"I've got the girl and her mother in the mezzanine seating above the ballroom," Ralph replied. "Needed to get the girl out of the crowd before I had another 'eligible bachelor' sweep her off to parts unknown. How quick can you be up here?"
"Four minutes," Jackson replied, tossing the paper towel into a nearby trash bin. "You gonna be okay watching the happy family until I get there?"
"Hustle, please," Ralph said, his voice dropping barely above a whisper so only Jackson could hear. "The Hulk would have a hard time keep these two separated. They're like two pissed off alleycats. And bring me a Scotch on the rocks, por favor."
"I didn't think we were allowed to drink on the job, bossman," Jackson teased. He pushed open the bathroom door and began to force his way through the crowd of giggling aristocrats and celebrities toward the open bar.
"Like I said. Pissed off alleycats."
**************
Jackson entered the mezzanine seating quietly, a glass of scotch in one hand and a flute of wine in the other, just as Ralph was checking the door to the stairs for probably the hundredth time. "There he is," Ralph said with a smile as he stood and moved toward Jackson as swiftly as a bigger man could. "Miss Bell, this is-"
"Jackson Biggs," Jackson finished with a smile and a curt nod. "I guess the old man's probably told you enough about me for you to already know that, though." Ralph snatched the scotch and the wine from Jackson's hand and handed Aimee the wine with a nod that almost matched Jackson's.
"Remind me never to talk highly of you anymore if that's how you're going to act," Ralph replied with a chuckle as he took a sip of his whiskey. "And Jackson, this is Miss Bell's daughter, Lorelei. Also known as Dianthus." Jackson looked to the younger redhead and nodded.
"We've met already, I believe," he said pointing to his own nose. "But a formal introduction does't hurt. Not as bad ass the door did, I mean."
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"We've met already, I believe," he said pointing to his own nose. "But a formal introduction does't hurt. Not as bad ass the door did, I mean."
Lorelei blinked, having not been paying attention to anything at the table, her eyes long gone and in some distant land with horses and escape written all over it. When her mother 'subtly' knocked her arm with her elbow, causing her hand to swoop and spill a glass off the table, the contents all over the side and the floor -- and Dianthus. She stood up, backing away from the sudden cold that slid down her dress before raising up her hands to keep from doing anything else stupid.
Except that her hands managed to swing back and tip over a high-class waiter and his tray, a few more loads of drinks tilting over and landing a shower of alcoholic beverages over Lorelei - and this time some on her mother, Aimee, though hardly as drenching.
She spun around, looking at the waiter with horror in her eyes though he seemed as if he couldn't be happier. Dianthus tipped over my tray when I was catering at a high end party! Oh my god! The highlights of this party would be some to remember. After apologizing profusely to him, she spun around, smoothed a hand over her drenched hair to pull it out from her face and let out a smile... Then a laugh. Aimee looked up at her, eyes like daggers ready to kill before she caught on to the 'publicity oops! 101' training.. Make it a joke. Laugh it off.
"A formal introduction indeed. You'll never know me any better than you've just witnessed, I'm afraid, Mr. Nosebleed." She let out a bow for him, then the rest of the public watching, letting out a laugh as if the joke was all in the grand scheme of things. "Drinks on me, hmm? Literally!"
Lorelei blinked, having not been paying attention to anything at the table, her eyes long gone and in some distant land with horses and escape written all over it. When her mother 'subtly' knocked her arm with her elbow, causing her hand to swoop and spill a glass off the table, the contents all over the side and the floor -- and Dianthus. She stood up, backing away from the sudden cold that slid down her dress before raising up her hands to keep from doing anything else stupid.
Except that her hands managed to swing back and tip over a high-class waiter and his tray, a few more loads of drinks tilting over and landing a shower of alcoholic beverages over Lorelei - and this time some on her mother, Aimee, though hardly as drenching.
She spun around, looking at the waiter with horror in her eyes though he seemed as if he couldn't be happier. Dianthus tipped over my tray when I was catering at a high end party! Oh my god! The highlights of this party would be some to remember. After apologizing profusely to him, she spun around, smoothed a hand over her drenched hair to pull it out from her face and let out a smile... Then a laugh. Aimee looked up at her, eyes like daggers ready to kill before she caught on to the 'publicity oops! 101' training.. Make it a joke. Laugh it off.
"A formal introduction indeed. You'll never know me any better than you've just witnessed, I'm afraid, Mr. Nosebleed." She let out a bow for him, then the rest of the public watching, letting out a laugh as if the joke was all in the grand scheme of things. "Drinks on me, hmm? Literally!"
Jackson's gaze hardened on Lorelei for a moment before his attention shifted to the waiter that she'd knocked to the ground during all of the commotion. He held out his hand to the man with as much of a smile as he could muster and pulled the man back to his feet with ease. "I apologise for any kind of displeasure that may have caused you, sir," he said.
"No trouble, man," the waiter replied with a shake of his head. "It's not every day that you run into one of the hottest celebrities out right now." Jackson's nose throbbed slightly, but he forced his smile to widen as he clapped a hand on the waiter's shoulder.
"Trust me," he said with a nod, "I know exactly what you mean. What's your name, anyway?"
"Joeseph Tilly."
"Well, alright then, Mr. Joeseph Tilly," Jackson continued. "My name is Jackson Biggs, and I'm a representative for the Bell family. Now, I know that you're going to have an awfully strong urge to go and tell this story to whomever might listen, but I'm going to go ahead and ask a little favor of you: I'm going to need you to forget everything that just happened a moment ago, okay? All of it. My employer is willing to pay you double whatever any of these paparazzi will for the story, but I'm going to need you word on this for it to happen. Do I have it?" Joeseph's eyes widened at the mention of money and he nodded quickly. "No, Joeseph. I need you to tell me that I've got your word. Sort of a verbal contract, if you will."
"You got it, man," Joeseph said, holding out his hand to shake. "That kind of cash could go a long way."
Jackson grabbed the young man's hand and shook it firmly. "You're definitely right about that, Joeseph Tilly. Go ahead and leave your number with my associate," he nodded his head towards Ralph, "and we'll get into contact with you as soon as possible, alright?" Joeseph nodded again and hurried over to Ralph. His gaze turned to Lorelei once more and his gaze hardened.
"Miss Bell," he said with all the patience that an adult might have with a whiny five year old, "I understand that you're hot shit right now. Little Miss Cover-of-the-Rolling-Stone and whatnot. That's fan-fucking-tastic and all, but I couldn't give two shits less about your accomplishments. All I'm here for is to make sure that you don't wind up dead or in a gutter somewhere hopped up on whatever kind of fucking drug is big on the street right now. Your life and your reputation are my concern, and I'm not going to let your mother waste her hard earned money for no reason."
He turned his head towards Ralph and nodded towards the door. "Get them ready to go, and let's get the fuck out of here. Mr. Nosebleed is done with all this high class bullshit for tonight."
Ralph turned towards Lorelei and Aimee and bowed his head slightly. "I apologise for that outburst," he said with a sigh. "He's been a little on edge lately. If you ladies will allow it after such h behavior, I'd be honored to escort you to your hotel."
"No trouble, man," the waiter replied with a shake of his head. "It's not every day that you run into one of the hottest celebrities out right now." Jackson's nose throbbed slightly, but he forced his smile to widen as he clapped a hand on the waiter's shoulder.
"Trust me," he said with a nod, "I know exactly what you mean. What's your name, anyway?"
"Joeseph Tilly."
"Well, alright then, Mr. Joeseph Tilly," Jackson continued. "My name is Jackson Biggs, and I'm a representative for the Bell family. Now, I know that you're going to have an awfully strong urge to go and tell this story to whomever might listen, but I'm going to go ahead and ask a little favor of you: I'm going to need you to forget everything that just happened a moment ago, okay? All of it. My employer is willing to pay you double whatever any of these paparazzi will for the story, but I'm going to need you word on this for it to happen. Do I have it?" Joeseph's eyes widened at the mention of money and he nodded quickly. "No, Joeseph. I need you to tell me that I've got your word. Sort of a verbal contract, if you will."
"You got it, man," Joeseph said, holding out his hand to shake. "That kind of cash could go a long way."
Jackson grabbed the young man's hand and shook it firmly. "You're definitely right about that, Joeseph Tilly. Go ahead and leave your number with my associate," he nodded his head towards Ralph, "and we'll get into contact with you as soon as possible, alright?" Joeseph nodded again and hurried over to Ralph. His gaze turned to Lorelei once more and his gaze hardened.
"Miss Bell," he said with all the patience that an adult might have with a whiny five year old, "I understand that you're hot shit right now. Little Miss Cover-of-the-Rolling-Stone and whatnot. That's fan-fucking-tastic and all, but I couldn't give two shits less about your accomplishments. All I'm here for is to make sure that you don't wind up dead or in a gutter somewhere hopped up on whatever kind of fucking drug is big on the street right now. Your life and your reputation are my concern, and I'm not going to let your mother waste her hard earned money for no reason."
He turned his head towards Ralph and nodded towards the door. "Get them ready to go, and let's get the fuck out of here. Mr. Nosebleed is done with all this high class bullshit for tonight."
Ralph turned towards Lorelei and Aimee and bowed his head slightly. "I apologise for that outburst," he said with a sigh. "He's been a little on edge lately. If you ladies will allow it after such h behavior, I'd be honored to escort you to your hotel."
The Charlotte Hotel : First Floor : La Patrice Hall - Two Days Later
The hall was as large and grand as the location of the party just two nights before, except that for this time the windows were open, the curtains were pulled back, and the room was draped in white silk - over the chairs, the tables, the napkins... It was the purity every morning should be as every day is different and has the potential to be better than the last.
At least, that was the hocus pocus mumbo jumbo that Aimee read off of her smart phone that morning, starting her off in a good mood. It only seemed to last until 11:13am. At precisely thirteen minutes past the eleventh hour, Aimee was sitting in her chair, drumming her fingers across the table and letting out heavy sighs. She glanced over at Ralph, who'd been very pleasant company during their whole business relationship. She liked him well enough, and because of that, she over looked the profanity of his counterpart and employee -- Jackson Biggs. This man, as unorthodox as he appeared that night to be able to handle the upper city life and standards of stardom, just may be the charm that finally sends her daughter back home to her in California. Under the same roof - that's all she asked. It was there that she would be safest, she was sure, and that was the ultimate goal and plan. Until then, well.. She would just keep a close eye on her daughter by the eyes of Jackson. She'd hired someone only for her daughter, but she'd even managed to weasel her way through Ralph's barriers and bargained up the right price to handle them both, having him with her at all times. She continued their discussion, despite the disappearance of the two in question.
"I hired you because my daughter is in danger - but not only that, her habits make her a danger to herself." Aimee continued, pressing her lips together firmly. "It's not that she's a druggy like her father, no, but she's wild. She's twenty-eight years old! When is she going to pretend that the world she lives in isn't always bright lights and pretty cameras? She's got to think of her own safety! You see," She crouched lower to him, in between cut up pieces of a donut with knife and fork, "My husband was murdered. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Someone is out for his money - and if you ask me, it's Travis Ward. There's no grudge like that of one from a scorned lover. " With this, she let out a groan, dabbing dramatically at her eyes. "I can't believe it's all my fault, but.. Oh! I just can't let him have Dianthus, too! You see? I'd have nothing, and then I'd have to go back to him."
"But, Ralph, I'll say one thing. Your boy was very smart that night, to think of taking a room next to her just to watch her. I thought it was a bit intrusive, even for my standards, but when you told me this morning that he'd reported her leaving in a car heading out of state... Well, I wouldn't have that information without your boy Biggs. Props to you. You're hired, so long as he brings her back." She grinned, winking at him.
It was easy to tell that she'd thought about this a bit too much - and that her theories were delusional. However, she wasn't completely off when she spoke of murder. This much was true, though it may not exactly be ex-lover billionaire. Who knew.
The man who sat across the way with a pair of shades on to hide his eyes from the sun through the window, reading the newspaper.
Eden Ranch : Outskirts of Podunkville Montana - The Afternoon of the Second Day
After various methods of transportation, a few forced naps in closed compartments, and a bus ride down the longest gravel road in the world, Lorelei had arrived to paradise. She'd lost an hour or so in the process, so the sun was chasing the hills for fun in the last few hours of the day - casting a shadow on just about everything from the rickety mailbox that granted her entrance to the land that seemed to go on forever. Luckily, her arrival didn't go unannounced, and Richard -- or Dick, the head caretaker of the ranch she'd come in to possession of some five years or so ago, with or without her mother's approval - she was a grown woman by then! - headed down the dirt path on a four wheeler, waving a straw hat and a big grin on his face at her.
"My little sunshine's back, mm?" Dick was, and always would be, her adopted grandfather. The man was too old to be out in the heat, the sun, or under such physical assertion under the standards of any city-stricken folk, but you couldn't pull him away. He was promoted from the stables manager to head keeper in the hopes that no one would run him off at the highest bid to raise their horses. Lorelei couldn't stand losing him, and she wouldn't. Only Bill Gates could out bid her for him and something tells her that he's not too interested in playing with livestock.
"I missed you," She spoke genuinely, tossing the over-night bag full of the essentials on the back gate, strapping it down before she slipped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"In either case, welcome home sweetheart." He laughed, letting on the gas and taking off. A trail of dust kicked up in their wake.
The Charlotte Hotel : First Floor : The Lounge - Later That Evening
"So, Ralph. Has he reached Montana, yet?" Aimee asked expectantly, folding her arms.
The hall was as large and grand as the location of the party just two nights before, except that for this time the windows were open, the curtains were pulled back, and the room was draped in white silk - over the chairs, the tables, the napkins... It was the purity every morning should be as every day is different and has the potential to be better than the last.
At least, that was the hocus pocus mumbo jumbo that Aimee read off of her smart phone that morning, starting her off in a good mood. It only seemed to last until 11:13am. At precisely thirteen minutes past the eleventh hour, Aimee was sitting in her chair, drumming her fingers across the table and letting out heavy sighs. She glanced over at Ralph, who'd been very pleasant company during their whole business relationship. She liked him well enough, and because of that, she over looked the profanity of his counterpart and employee -- Jackson Biggs. This man, as unorthodox as he appeared that night to be able to handle the upper city life and standards of stardom, just may be the charm that finally sends her daughter back home to her in California. Under the same roof - that's all she asked. It was there that she would be safest, she was sure, and that was the ultimate goal and plan. Until then, well.. She would just keep a close eye on her daughter by the eyes of Jackson. She'd hired someone only for her daughter, but she'd even managed to weasel her way through Ralph's barriers and bargained up the right price to handle them both, having him with her at all times. She continued their discussion, despite the disappearance of the two in question.
"I hired you because my daughter is in danger - but not only that, her habits make her a danger to herself." Aimee continued, pressing her lips together firmly. "It's not that she's a druggy like her father, no, but she's wild. She's twenty-eight years old! When is she going to pretend that the world she lives in isn't always bright lights and pretty cameras? She's got to think of her own safety! You see," She crouched lower to him, in between cut up pieces of a donut with knife and fork, "My husband was murdered. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Someone is out for his money - and if you ask me, it's Travis Ward. There's no grudge like that of one from a scorned lover. " With this, she let out a groan, dabbing dramatically at her eyes. "I can't believe it's all my fault, but.. Oh! I just can't let him have Dianthus, too! You see? I'd have nothing, and then I'd have to go back to him."
"But, Ralph, I'll say one thing. Your boy was very smart that night, to think of taking a room next to her just to watch her. I thought it was a bit intrusive, even for my standards, but when you told me this morning that he'd reported her leaving in a car heading out of state... Well, I wouldn't have that information without your boy Biggs. Props to you. You're hired, so long as he brings her back." She grinned, winking at him.
It was easy to tell that she'd thought about this a bit too much - and that her theories were delusional. However, she wasn't completely off when she spoke of murder. This much was true, though it may not exactly be ex-lover billionaire. Who knew.
The man who sat across the way with a pair of shades on to hide his eyes from the sun through the window, reading the newspaper.
Eden Ranch : Outskirts of Podunkville Montana - The Afternoon of the Second Day
After various methods of transportation, a few forced naps in closed compartments, and a bus ride down the longest gravel road in the world, Lorelei had arrived to paradise. She'd lost an hour or so in the process, so the sun was chasing the hills for fun in the last few hours of the day - casting a shadow on just about everything from the rickety mailbox that granted her entrance to the land that seemed to go on forever. Luckily, her arrival didn't go unannounced, and Richard -- or Dick, the head caretaker of the ranch she'd come in to possession of some five years or so ago, with or without her mother's approval - she was a grown woman by then! - headed down the dirt path on a four wheeler, waving a straw hat and a big grin on his face at her.
"My little sunshine's back, mm?" Dick was, and always would be, her adopted grandfather. The man was too old to be out in the heat, the sun, or under such physical assertion under the standards of any city-stricken folk, but you couldn't pull him away. He was promoted from the stables manager to head keeper in the hopes that no one would run him off at the highest bid to raise their horses. Lorelei couldn't stand losing him, and she wouldn't. Only Bill Gates could out bid her for him and something tells her that he's not too interested in playing with livestock.
"I missed you," She spoke genuinely, tossing the over-night bag full of the essentials on the back gate, strapping it down before she slipped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"In either case, welcome home sweetheart." He laughed, letting on the gas and taking off. A trail of dust kicked up in their wake.
The Charlotte Hotel : First Floor : The Lounge - Later That Evening
"So, Ralph. Has he reached Montana, yet?" Aimee asked expectantly, folding her arms.
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The Charlotte Hotel : First Floor : The Lounge - Later That Evening
Ralph turned his gaze to Aimee, looking over the top of his glasses at her with a half-smile. She'd been playing this game of third person "Are We There Yet," all day long. "If he's not with her yet, then he's looking for her," Ralph stated patiently. "He texted me about two hours ago telling me that he'd gotten off the plane in Helena, and the ranch is about an hour and a half from there. Would you like me to check again?"
He fought back the urge to groan as she nodded as matter-of-factly as he figured she could muster, and produced a small black cellphone from an inner pocket in his jacket. He flipped it open and dialed Biggs' number. "Hey, Biggsy. You got an update?"
Lloyd's Diner : Podunkville Montana - The Evening of the Second Day
"Hey, Biggsy. You got an update?"
Jackson looked through the storefront window of the diner and smiled as he caught a glimpse of the incognito Lorelei. She'd done a damn good job at making herself look like whoever this alter ego was supposed to be, but there was no amount of new make-up or wigs that could have kept him off her trail. That and he may or may not have had a few photographers that owed him a favor or two.
"It's not stalking if you get paid to do it," he said absently. There was an awkward silence on the other end of the call.
"What," Ralph asked, sounding extremely confused.
"Nothing," Jackson continued. "I'm looking directly at her right now. We'll be back by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."
"Quicker would be better," Ralph added. There was something he was trying to say without actually saying it. The tone of his words said something more along the lines of, "Please God, don't leave me alone with this woman any longer than you have to."
"As soon as possible, Ralph. Stay safe."
Jackson flipped the phone closed and slid it back down into the pocket of his jeans. He checked himself in the reflection of the glass, flattened the wrinkle out of the blue, plaid button-down he wore, and walked through the door into Lloyd's Diner. A bell chimed as he walked in and the two waitresses on the floor both turned and welcomed him with smiles. The place smelled of cholesterol and coffee. Jackson was pretty certain that this could have been his most favorite place on Earth if he wasn't just about to get his ass chewed out for being here. He walked along between a row of tables and booths, and sat down on the red cushioned seat of a booth right across from Lorelei.
"I have been looking all over for you, Tara," he said with a smile.
Ralph turned his gaze to Aimee, looking over the top of his glasses at her with a half-smile. She'd been playing this game of third person "Are We There Yet," all day long. "If he's not with her yet, then he's looking for her," Ralph stated patiently. "He texted me about two hours ago telling me that he'd gotten off the plane in Helena, and the ranch is about an hour and a half from there. Would you like me to check again?"
He fought back the urge to groan as she nodded as matter-of-factly as he figured she could muster, and produced a small black cellphone from an inner pocket in his jacket. He flipped it open and dialed Biggs' number. "Hey, Biggsy. You got an update?"
Lloyd's Diner : Podunkville Montana - The Evening of the Second Day
"Hey, Biggsy. You got an update?"
Jackson looked through the storefront window of the diner and smiled as he caught a glimpse of the incognito Lorelei. She'd done a damn good job at making herself look like whoever this alter ego was supposed to be, but there was no amount of new make-up or wigs that could have kept him off her trail. That and he may or may not have had a few photographers that owed him a favor or two.
"It's not stalking if you get paid to do it," he said absently. There was an awkward silence on the other end of the call.
"What," Ralph asked, sounding extremely confused.
"Nothing," Jackson continued. "I'm looking directly at her right now. We'll be back by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."
"Quicker would be better," Ralph added. There was something he was trying to say without actually saying it. The tone of his words said something more along the lines of, "Please God, don't leave me alone with this woman any longer than you have to."
"As soon as possible, Ralph. Stay safe."
Jackson flipped the phone closed and slid it back down into the pocket of his jeans. He checked himself in the reflection of the glass, flattened the wrinkle out of the blue, plaid button-down he wore, and walked through the door into Lloyd's Diner. A bell chimed as he walked in and the two waitresses on the floor both turned and welcomed him with smiles. The place smelled of cholesterol and coffee. Jackson was pretty certain that this could have been his most favorite place on Earth if he wasn't just about to get his ass chewed out for being here. He walked along between a row of tables and booths, and sat down on the red cushioned seat of a booth right across from Lorelei.
"I have been looking all over for you, Tara," he said with a smile.
Lorelei blinked, hearing the familiar voice from somewhere in her mind as she considered the menu. Her eyes hovered just above the menu to spot the identity of such a voice, and then double took. She hadn't expected anyone to find her, or follow her, which is what he must have done to be here the day she'd arrived. Surely, this was her mother's work. The woman had gotten smarter than she looked in her old, paranoid age. It was beginning to bug her.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak to him, the waitress walked over and patted Lorelei playfully, "Tara! You didn't tell me it'd be a table for two/!"
"Well, Anna, if I had known that my boyfriend Jack would be here, I'd have told you! I'm just as surprised to see him." She looked from the pig-tailed blonde over at the man. She had to admit that he cleaned up nice, and almost looked like the best thing on the menu in this small town. "And didn't you know, Anna, he's also promised to take care of the check for me, so I may need a little longer to decide what I want. Is that okay?"
Anna practically bounced on the balls of her feet, nodding ecstatically, "That's totally fine! And welcome to Lloyd's Diner, Jack! I'll bring you a water until you decide what you'd like, alright? - Maybe a beer?" She giggled, taking off behind the western double doors.
Straightening up her composure, she adjusted her loose and free outfit accented with a pixie cut brunette wig. When she was through, she leaned over the table and twirled a stray finger over his hand, her spare hand holding up her chin as she watched him curiously. "I'm impressed." She spoke evenly, though she smiled, putting on the flirtatious works for anyone that gazed over. She retreated her hand from his, laying out the menu as her voice turned business. "Do you need help with what you're going to eat?"
Just as she opened her mouth to speak to him, the waitress walked over and patted Lorelei playfully, "Tara! You didn't tell me it'd be a table for two/!"
"Well, Anna, if I had known that my boyfriend Jack would be here, I'd have told you! I'm just as surprised to see him." She looked from the pig-tailed blonde over at the man. She had to admit that he cleaned up nice, and almost looked like the best thing on the menu in this small town. "And didn't you know, Anna, he's also promised to take care of the check for me, so I may need a little longer to decide what I want. Is that okay?"
Anna practically bounced on the balls of her feet, nodding ecstatically, "That's totally fine! And welcome to Lloyd's Diner, Jack! I'll bring you a water until you decide what you'd like, alright? - Maybe a beer?" She giggled, taking off behind the western double doors.
Straightening up her composure, she adjusted her loose and free outfit accented with a pixie cut brunette wig. When she was through, she leaned over the table and twirled a stray finger over his hand, her spare hand holding up her chin as she watched him curiously. "I'm impressed." She spoke evenly, though she smiled, putting on the flirtatious works for anyone that gazed over. She retreated her hand from his, laying out the menu as her voice turned business. "Do you need help with what you're going to eat?"
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Jackson reached across the table and ran a hand along the side of her face, putting on the biggest smile he could: If she was going to play the relationship card, he'd have to play it right back. "No thanks, darlin'," he said as he let the hand trail down her arm to rest on the top of her hand. "I filled up on peanuts on the flight over here. I wouldn't mind a taste of the brunette sitting across from me, though." He winked at her and let his hand fall back to the tabletop just as he heard the waitress from a moment ago make an embarrassed little sound, like she had just intruded on some sort of private moment between the two of them.
"Uhm," Anna said with a little giggle, "should I give you two a minute alone?" Jackson turned his attention to her and cranked the smile up a notch, shaking his head just slightly.
"Not at all, miss," he said sweetly. "I'm not going to have anything, myself, but I wouldn't mind a Bud Light if you've got one to spare. And whatever my little honeybunny is wanting to eat, of course." He turned back to "Tara" and tapped her nose with his forefinger softly.
"Why sure," Anna said with a smile. "You're lucky to have such a sweet guy, Tara."
"Uhm," Anna said with a little giggle, "should I give you two a minute alone?" Jackson turned his attention to her and cranked the smile up a notch, shaking his head just slightly.
"Not at all, miss," he said sweetly. "I'm not going to have anything, myself, but I wouldn't mind a Bud Light if you've got one to spare. And whatever my little honeybunny is wanting to eat, of course." He turned back to "Tara" and tapped her nose with his forefinger softly.
"Why sure," Anna said with a smile. "You're lucky to have such a sweet guy, Tara."
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She batted her eyelashes at him as his hand slid down her face.
"No thanks, darlin'. I filled up on peanuts on the flight over here. I wouldn't mind a taste of the brunette sitting across from me, though." Did he just say that! Her cheeks flushed, and it must have been more noticable than she anticipated because when Anna walked back up with his water, she giggled.
"Should I give you two a minute alone?" She snickered, and he looked over at her so naturally with a grin from ear to ear that Lorelei watched him with wide eyes. This guy should have taken up acting.
"Not at all, miss. I'm not going to have anything, myself, but I wouldn't mind a Bud Light if you've got one to spare. And whatever my little honeybunny is wanting to eat, of course." When he tapped her nose, she felt the rise come up again. Did he have this accent back in New York? Surely not, for if he started at her with this tone, she may have stayed with him in that bathroom. She couldn't help but let out a laugh at the situation, bringing up a hand to lips to cover her smirk.
"Anna, dear, I don't think I can eat anymore. I've got a different kind of appetite now," She arched a brow at him, placing her chin back in to her palm while her tongue licked her lips, then proceed to stretch out the side of her cheek. Oh, the imagination of a male. This is sure to knock him off. "But rather than waste you time, I'll have a Shiner."
Anna made a sort of pout, trying to keep her eyes off of the guy. She was twenty-one at best, but with the way her tongue seemed to fall out of her mouth at his vision, she appeared in her teens. "Well, that's a shame, but I'll have your drinks right out. If you change your mind, let me know!" And she was gone again.
Lorelai arched a brow at Jackson as soon as she was gone, smirking. "You don't want to play this game with me," She somewhat threatened him, biting her lip and looking up at him with a bat or two of her eyelashes.
"No thanks, darlin'. I filled up on peanuts on the flight over here. I wouldn't mind a taste of the brunette sitting across from me, though." Did he just say that! Her cheeks flushed, and it must have been more noticable than she anticipated because when Anna walked back up with his water, she giggled.
"Should I give you two a minute alone?" She snickered, and he looked over at her so naturally with a grin from ear to ear that Lorelei watched him with wide eyes. This guy should have taken up acting.
"Not at all, miss. I'm not going to have anything, myself, but I wouldn't mind a Bud Light if you've got one to spare. And whatever my little honeybunny is wanting to eat, of course." When he tapped her nose, she felt the rise come up again. Did he have this accent back in New York? Surely not, for if he started at her with this tone, she may have stayed with him in that bathroom. She couldn't help but let out a laugh at the situation, bringing up a hand to lips to cover her smirk.
"Anna, dear, I don't think I can eat anymore. I've got a different kind of appetite now," She arched a brow at him, placing her chin back in to her palm while her tongue licked her lips, then proceed to stretch out the side of her cheek. Oh, the imagination of a male. This is sure to knock him off. "But rather than waste you time, I'll have a Shiner."
Anna made a sort of pout, trying to keep her eyes off of the guy. She was twenty-one at best, but with the way her tongue seemed to fall out of her mouth at his vision, she appeared in her teens. "Well, that's a shame, but I'll have your drinks right out. If you change your mind, let me know!" And she was gone again.
Lorelai arched a brow at Jackson as soon as she was gone, smirking. "You don't want to play this game with me," She somewhat threatened him, biting her lip and looking up at him with a bat or two of her eyelashes.
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"Oh," he said with a smile, the accent still dripping from every word, "I'll play all night if I have to." He gave her a little wink and moved his eyes to watch Anna make her way back towards the counter. "Girl seems like a sweetheart, but she 'bout had to mop the floor from drooling over us so much." He sat back and looked Lorelei over a couple of times, allowing his mind to move towards the areas of thought it probably shouldn't go: She didn't have a whole lot of skin showing above the table, but what she did have on display was enough to make any man a little weak in the knees. Add that in with the way those jeans undoubtedly clung to her curves and the little bit of her toned stomach that would be showing and...well...you get the drift.
Another smile sprouted across his face as he started to trace swirls across the backside of her hand with his fingertip. "Oh," he started, his eyes focused on the skin of her hand. "I know that you weren't expecting me, but I just had to come find you. The bossman let me off for a day just so I could. Your mama also told me to tell you that she's disappointed that you didn't make lunch with her and your Uncle Ralph. Told me she'd be waiting at the airport for us when we got home tomorrow just so you could make it up to her."
Another smile sprouted across his face as he started to trace swirls across the backside of her hand with his fingertip. "Oh," he started, his eyes focused on the skin of her hand. "I know that you weren't expecting me, but I just had to come find you. The bossman let me off for a day just so I could. Your mama also told me to tell you that she's disappointed that you didn't make lunch with her and your Uncle Ralph. Told me she'd be waiting at the airport for us when we got home tomorrow just so you could make it up to her."
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"Oh, darling." She brought up the hand he played with, his hand over hers as she caressed his 5 o'clock shadow, tilting her head to the side with a pouty lip. "I've just arrived. I'll be out at least for the remainder of the week. I thought the note I left was clear enough on that matter." And I could give a rat's ass about how my mother feels and her demands.
Sitting back up, she retreated her hands to herself, folding her arm with one, another twirling a short strand of hair as she watched him calculatingly. So. He's either here to babysit or become a bounty hunter of sorts. Sucks to be him. "You know, Uncle Ralph is keeping such a close watch on mama, I'm sure she'll be fine in his care. Do you want to know what I think?"
She leaned in closer, her elbows on the table as she wiggled her nose at him. "I think, you've got a choice here, darling. You can go back and tell her, tail tucked underneath, or..."
Anna arrived with their beers, bouncing with smiles.
"Or.. You could spend the week with me. Think of it as an early honeymoon, darling. You get me twenty-four hours a day - except that I don't have to focus on work all the time. Do you think your boss would let you have the rest of the week? It'd be such a pity for you to have go back home, but I would understand if you just couldn't let your boss down. If you have to go, you've got to go."
So go. Now. She mused, a fierceness shining in her eyes.
Sitting back up, she retreated her hands to herself, folding her arm with one, another twirling a short strand of hair as she watched him calculatingly. So. He's either here to babysit or become a bounty hunter of sorts. Sucks to be him. "You know, Uncle Ralph is keeping such a close watch on mama, I'm sure she'll be fine in his care. Do you want to know what I think?"
She leaned in closer, her elbows on the table as she wiggled her nose at him. "I think, you've got a choice here, darling. You can go back and tell her, tail tucked underneath, or..."
Anna arrived with their beers, bouncing with smiles.
"Or.. You could spend the week with me. Think of it as an early honeymoon, darling. You get me twenty-four hours a day - except that I don't have to focus on work all the time. Do you think your boss would let you have the rest of the week? It'd be such a pity for you to have go back home, but I would understand if you just couldn't let your boss down. If you have to go, you've got to go."
So go. Now. She mused, a fierceness shining in her eyes.
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Jackson smirked at Lorelei, though his gaze was hard on her. Stuck up, stubborn, prissy little bitch, he thought. She thinks that she's got me dead to rights. If she wants to play hardball, then I'll play right back. He looked up at Anna with another smile and snatched up his beer quickly, taking a long pull off of the bottle before looking back to Lorelei.
"Sweetie, I'd be absolutely delighted to stay with you for a week," he replied sweetly, "but we've got our engagement party to think about. Three more days is all we're going to be able to stay or else we're going to be letting down a hefty amount of people who are gonna be wanting to see the almost-newlyweds." He looked up at Anna and nodded towards Lorelei. "Tell her, Anna. That wouldn't be the most hospitable of things to do, would it?"
"Well," Anna said quietly, "I sure would hate to see the two of you go, but he's right, Tara. It sure sounds like a big deal, and you two are just too cute together to keep it from anyone else!" Jackson smiled sweetly at Lorelei and nodded as Anna turned and hurried off to her other tables. He brought the bottle back up to his lips and took another long drink.
"Your move, babydoll," he said with a smile, and he thumped the bottom of his bottle against the top of her own, watching as most of its contents started foaming up and out onto the table and her lap. "That's a party foul, too. This just ain't your night."
"Sweetie, I'd be absolutely delighted to stay with you for a week," he replied sweetly, "but we've got our engagement party to think about. Three more days is all we're going to be able to stay or else we're going to be letting down a hefty amount of people who are gonna be wanting to see the almost-newlyweds." He looked up at Anna and nodded towards Lorelei. "Tell her, Anna. That wouldn't be the most hospitable of things to do, would it?"
"Well," Anna said quietly, "I sure would hate to see the two of you go, but he's right, Tara. It sure sounds like a big deal, and you two are just too cute together to keep it from anyone else!" Jackson smiled sweetly at Lorelei and nodded as Anna turned and hurried off to her other tables. He brought the bottle back up to his lips and took another long drink.
"Your move, babydoll," he said with a smile, and he thumped the bottom of his bottle against the top of her own, watching as most of its contents started foaming up and out onto the table and her lap. "That's a party foul, too. This just ain't your night."
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Engagement party? What the hell? He was taking things to a whole new level, and that infuriated her. She hadn't exactly expected him to actually roll with it to the extent that he had. How much of this shit was he going to put up?
She narrowed her eyes, but plastered the sweet smile across her lips as she looked between the pair of them, Jackson and Anna. Sticking her tongue to the side of her cheek, she let out a sigh, "I suppose if I am so desired in the presence of many, as I usually am, that I could make room in my VERY busy schedule. Darling, I thought you understood how much I despise work and pleasure mixed together?"
This time, her facade was wearing down with her patience as she folded her arms, scooting herself in to the booth so that her back hit the wall and her legs laid flat on the seat, crossed as well. Her fingers neared the rim of her fizzing beer. Honestly, she hated the taste of the shit, but if he was going to play this game with her - the right way - she was going to need something to help her forget about it the next day. She pinched her nose with her spare hand, then tilted the bottle up to pour the contents down the back of her throat. This shit is awful. Might as well be piss.
"I'm still in this game, Jack, darling." She winked at him, though her face would give away the total revulsion that she felt trickling down her insides. "And this was my night, that you so wonderfully ruined. You don't know a thing about me, my life, or why I'm even here, but you find yourself up in the middle of my ass, poking it with a stick just because my mother's paying you a fat check." Her voice raised a bit, causing a commotion. "Don't worry, I'll give you an out, honey. I KNOW THAT MY MOTHER IS PAYING YOU. SO YOU CAN GIVE UP THE ACT. We're THROUGH!"
With that note in the air, and the faces of the semi-crowded restraunt all on him, and what must have just been reviewed as a scandal, Lorelei was almost positive that she could make her get-away without fear of anyone holding her at the door. It was her chance to run... or storm out like the grand scheme of acting that this was the moment he'd entered - or she'd bother to put on a wig.
She narrowed her eyes, but plastered the sweet smile across her lips as she looked between the pair of them, Jackson and Anna. Sticking her tongue to the side of her cheek, she let out a sigh, "I suppose if I am so desired in the presence of many, as I usually am, that I could make room in my VERY busy schedule. Darling, I thought you understood how much I despise work and pleasure mixed together?"
This time, her facade was wearing down with her patience as she folded her arms, scooting herself in to the booth so that her back hit the wall and her legs laid flat on the seat, crossed as well. Her fingers neared the rim of her fizzing beer. Honestly, she hated the taste of the shit, but if he was going to play this game with her - the right way - she was going to need something to help her forget about it the next day. She pinched her nose with her spare hand, then tilted the bottle up to pour the contents down the back of her throat. This shit is awful. Might as well be piss.
"I'm still in this game, Jack, darling." She winked at him, though her face would give away the total revulsion that she felt trickling down her insides. "And this was my night, that you so wonderfully ruined. You don't know a thing about me, my life, or why I'm even here, but you find yourself up in the middle of my ass, poking it with a stick just because my mother's paying you a fat check." Her voice raised a bit, causing a commotion. "Don't worry, I'll give you an out, honey. I KNOW THAT MY MOTHER IS PAYING YOU. SO YOU CAN GIVE UP THE ACT. We're THROUGH!"
With that note in the air, and the faces of the semi-crowded restraunt all on him, and what must have just been reviewed as a scandal, Lorelei was almost positive that she could make her get-away without fear of anyone holding her at the door. It was her chance to run... or storm out like the grand scheme of acting that this was the moment he'd entered - or she'd bother to put on a wig.
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Jackson downed the rest of his beer in one gulp and slammed a one hundred dollar bill onto the tabletop. He turned his attention to Anna and smiled as wide as he could. "Sorry for the outburst, darlin'," he said, turning towards the door. "You go ahead and have a pleasant evening, and keep the change."
He was out the door in under a minute and hot on her trail as she started climbing into an oversized, very rugged looking black jeep. "Hey, you," he called after her. "The redhead with the brown wig on and the bad attitude problem."
Lorelei's eyes went wide as she did the slow-motion turn of the head, staring at him. She clenched her jaw, shaking her head. Don't do that. God, don't do that. "Excuse me? How rude!"
"Rude," he asked, smiling. "Sweetie, I've seen better wigs on drag queens." He moved in a little closer to the jeep. "I notice you didn't comment on the attitude problem thing, though. Good on you for that one. The first step is admittance."
"Oh, that's funny. I'm amazed you had the wits about you to even come up with that - Where did you graduate? Wait, did you even attend school before you became a glorified babysitter?" She spat at him, venom through her veins.
Ooh. Bad move, babydoll. "I did, thank you so much for asking," he said, the anger starting to bleed into his words. "Didn't get to graduate, though. There's something about having to actually work for you money that everyone else in the world has to do to get by."
"Oh, is that what you do? I'd forgotten how easy it all is to have to anwer to all the fame aand glory in my lap, to have the eyes of paparazzi on me wherever I go." She brought up a hand, pulling off the wig and cap beneath it to release her red hair. "Yes, let's unleash my popularity on yet another unsuspecting town - let them know that Dianthus is in so that they can call another photographer or undercover reporter and exploit what real life is for me. I wonder what they thought of the bathroom? Perhaps I'm a slut? And hitting that waiter? You might as well have just giving him an expensive tip, because I bet you anything it'll hit the papers. Oh, and I forgot about the easiest thing of all in regards to what I do for a living: making sure that I am thin enough, but not too thin that people scream 'annorexic' at me, making sure I don't gain more than 10 pounds in a year so that I"m not considered fat, working on choreography 6 hours of every day that I'm not actually on the set and filming backstage 'exclusives'. I wonder how that privacy thing works out for you when you've had a shitty day chasing around a girl who's never alone. When you get to lay back your head on the pillow and think, "Well if it gets too hard, I can just quit and find something else.". That must be really fucking nice. Tell me more." In a rush of frustration, she slammed the door shut and turned on the engine, but she didn't steer away. Whatever he was going to say, she wanted to hear it for some damned reason. Maybe it'sd just push her on edge to finally figure out if she hated the dumb ass or wanted him around to keep her in check as a bodyguard.
"Oh, puh-lease," he said, edging closer to the jeep. "Let's pretend that my job is as fucking easy as you're making out to be. Let's forget about all the fucking times that I've had to deal with your clumsy fucking moments of dumbassery. Or maybe all of the near social faux-pas? All of the times that you could have completely fucked up everything that you've worked for? Everything that your mother has worked for? Holy fuck, Lorelei, you could have even fucked up whatever kind of reputation that your father has left. And that's been in TWO DAYS!"
She didn't look at him. Her eyes had been forward on the clear roads - did small towns ever have traffic? However, somewhere in the process of the conversation, her eyes had closed and she had leaned back in the seat, just listening. No, this one would be worth nothing to her, not as a body guard or some dumb ass she fought in Montana and fired in front of the world. She could make him infamous, if she wanted.
"You know, I can see why my mother likes Ralph and you so much." She spoke quietly this time, her eyes narrowed as they opened just for this. She stared at him, but there wasn't any emotion left. Just that which was placed in her tone. "You sound just like her."
It was then, just after the words had fallen, that a hissing noise breezed past her ear, smacking a tiny hole in to the windshield - causing Lorelei to let out a gasp, then the second time it happened, a scream. Both bullets had managed to miss her, one on each side of her face, and a third would be soon to follow.
Jackson had his sidearm drawn from a hidden holster on the inside waistband of his pants. He crouched down low and looked around as best he could, trying to catch a glimpse of where the shooter might be. "Get out of the driver's seat and get on the floorboard," he shouted to her. "Don't you get any kind of vital parts in any place that someone could get a shot in! Now!"
She didn't have time to think, time to protest about how the jeep was messy enough already and that she'd really rather not ruin a good pair of jeans. Instead, she just leaned over, pulling her arm back to unleash the seatbelt - the one she'd never put on - cursed herself for wasting time and then crouched down, rolling in the floorboard to the passenger seat's side. From then on, she kept gasping as a few more shots fired, and her eyes darted over to look for him. He'd crouched and she hadn't seen anything. It caused her to poke her head up in view until a warning shot was sent once more in her direction. Bad idea.
"Fuck! What the hell is going on?! Are you alive or not? What if they come over here! Where is it? I don't eve--"
"Would you shut the fuck up for a second," he shouted. Jackson hadn't caught any kind of shimmer from a scope in any nearby windows or anything, and the shots were so wild and inaccurate that the shooter couldn't have been very well trained, and he was probably some distance off. He waited for a moment of calm and leapt into the driver's seat, slamming the jeep into drive and takling off as quickly as he possibly could. The shots had to have been coming from this direction, so heading straight for whoever was trying to kill them was probably not the best idea in the world. He turned the vehicle sharply and jetted off down a side road, heading for somewhere other than there.
"Are you alright," he finally asked when he felt like they were far enough away from everything to be safe.
"No," She growled underneath her breath, but it was loud enough that he could hear her. In the events of slamming the gas, she smacked forward in to the rough seats face-first. She wasn't sure if anything was broken, but it was enough to warrant a black eye or bruise here or there. Then he suddenly turned, sending her head to the side of his knee at her temple, causing a massive migraine. By the time he'd ask about her well being, she was bent over the seat, just resting her head on the cushion while the rest of her sloped off and in to the floor board. Judging by his question, it would be safe enough to sit upright and buckle up, so she did so. Slow and steady - this shit hurts. Strapping herself in, she held her head with her hand, elbow on the door.
"Do you even know where Eden's Ranch is?"
"No, and I'm not worried about it," he said carefully as he stared forward. "We're going home, Lorelei. This vacation just got cut short."
"You can't be serious." She said flatly. Really? After all of this?
"Somebody just tried to kill you," he said, turning to look at her. "We're going home."
"Great idea." Sarcasm was becoming her best friend. "What better place to take me than the residence that everyone knows of. I bet they can get a few good shows of the room we'll be staying in if I let open the blinds a bit."
"Why do you have to be such a spoiled little bitch," he asked, his voice raising just a bit. "You know what? Fine. You get another fucking day in the same goddamn county as the person that wants you dead. Tomorrow, we're leaving, and we'll figure something out from there."
She wanted to argue further, but the migraine in her skull was getting worse - but what can you call it after it's already reached migraine status? She got another day, and that's what she'd wanted, right? The fact that he pointed out that the killer was also nearby didn't help her, but what choice did she have? The problem was that they obviously didn't have a problem shooting in the middle of the damn road, which meant she may not even be safe in the hide-away at Eden's. Do I really have to admit that he's right - at least partly?
"Compromise." Even though you called me a bitch, again. Spoiled, at that, though partially true. "Why don't we just drive? I have the cash we need for.. anything, since I"m assuming you've gone and left your shit in some other vehicle when you arrived and didn't have time to get it when ... " No. I won't admit that you kind of just saved my life. "Anyway, there's a lot of ground to cover between here and New York. And we should ditch Dick's jeep, since obviously, they know it by now."
"Yeah," he said, the adrenaline starting to wear off. His eyelids felt a couple of pounds heavier, but he never took his eyes from the road. "We'll drive till we get to a motel, sleep this shit off, and then we'll keep going. Whatever keeps you from bitching at me seems like a fucking fantastic plan to me."
He was out the door in under a minute and hot on her trail as she started climbing into an oversized, very rugged looking black jeep. "Hey, you," he called after her. "The redhead with the brown wig on and the bad attitude problem."
Lorelei's eyes went wide as she did the slow-motion turn of the head, staring at him. She clenched her jaw, shaking her head. Don't do that. God, don't do that. "Excuse me? How rude!"
"Rude," he asked, smiling. "Sweetie, I've seen better wigs on drag queens." He moved in a little closer to the jeep. "I notice you didn't comment on the attitude problem thing, though. Good on you for that one. The first step is admittance."
"Oh, that's funny. I'm amazed you had the wits about you to even come up with that - Where did you graduate? Wait, did you even attend school before you became a glorified babysitter?" She spat at him, venom through her veins.
Ooh. Bad move, babydoll. "I did, thank you so much for asking," he said, the anger starting to bleed into his words. "Didn't get to graduate, though. There's something about having to actually work for you money that everyone else in the world has to do to get by."
"Oh, is that what you do? I'd forgotten how easy it all is to have to anwer to all the fame aand glory in my lap, to have the eyes of paparazzi on me wherever I go." She brought up a hand, pulling off the wig and cap beneath it to release her red hair. "Yes, let's unleash my popularity on yet another unsuspecting town - let them know that Dianthus is in so that they can call another photographer or undercover reporter and exploit what real life is for me. I wonder what they thought of the bathroom? Perhaps I'm a slut? And hitting that waiter? You might as well have just giving him an expensive tip, because I bet you anything it'll hit the papers. Oh, and I forgot about the easiest thing of all in regards to what I do for a living: making sure that I am thin enough, but not too thin that people scream 'annorexic' at me, making sure I don't gain more than 10 pounds in a year so that I"m not considered fat, working on choreography 6 hours of every day that I'm not actually on the set and filming backstage 'exclusives'. I wonder how that privacy thing works out for you when you've had a shitty day chasing around a girl who's never alone. When you get to lay back your head on the pillow and think, "Well if it gets too hard, I can just quit and find something else.". That must be really fucking nice. Tell me more." In a rush of frustration, she slammed the door shut and turned on the engine, but she didn't steer away. Whatever he was going to say, she wanted to hear it for some damned reason. Maybe it'sd just push her on edge to finally figure out if she hated the dumb ass or wanted him around to keep her in check as a bodyguard.
"Oh, puh-lease," he said, edging closer to the jeep. "Let's pretend that my job is as fucking easy as you're making out to be. Let's forget about all the fucking times that I've had to deal with your clumsy fucking moments of dumbassery. Or maybe all of the near social faux-pas? All of the times that you could have completely fucked up everything that you've worked for? Everything that your mother has worked for? Holy fuck, Lorelei, you could have even fucked up whatever kind of reputation that your father has left. And that's been in TWO DAYS!"
She didn't look at him. Her eyes had been forward on the clear roads - did small towns ever have traffic? However, somewhere in the process of the conversation, her eyes had closed and she had leaned back in the seat, just listening. No, this one would be worth nothing to her, not as a body guard or some dumb ass she fought in Montana and fired in front of the world. She could make him infamous, if she wanted.
"You know, I can see why my mother likes Ralph and you so much." She spoke quietly this time, her eyes narrowed as they opened just for this. She stared at him, but there wasn't any emotion left. Just that which was placed in her tone. "You sound just like her."
It was then, just after the words had fallen, that a hissing noise breezed past her ear, smacking a tiny hole in to the windshield - causing Lorelei to let out a gasp, then the second time it happened, a scream. Both bullets had managed to miss her, one on each side of her face, and a third would be soon to follow.
Jackson had his sidearm drawn from a hidden holster on the inside waistband of his pants. He crouched down low and looked around as best he could, trying to catch a glimpse of where the shooter might be. "Get out of the driver's seat and get on the floorboard," he shouted to her. "Don't you get any kind of vital parts in any place that someone could get a shot in! Now!"
She didn't have time to think, time to protest about how the jeep was messy enough already and that she'd really rather not ruin a good pair of jeans. Instead, she just leaned over, pulling her arm back to unleash the seatbelt - the one she'd never put on - cursed herself for wasting time and then crouched down, rolling in the floorboard to the passenger seat's side. From then on, she kept gasping as a few more shots fired, and her eyes darted over to look for him. He'd crouched and she hadn't seen anything. It caused her to poke her head up in view until a warning shot was sent once more in her direction. Bad idea.
"Fuck! What the hell is going on?! Are you alive or not? What if they come over here! Where is it? I don't eve--"
"Would you shut the fuck up for a second," he shouted. Jackson hadn't caught any kind of shimmer from a scope in any nearby windows or anything, and the shots were so wild and inaccurate that the shooter couldn't have been very well trained, and he was probably some distance off. He waited for a moment of calm and leapt into the driver's seat, slamming the jeep into drive and takling off as quickly as he possibly could. The shots had to have been coming from this direction, so heading straight for whoever was trying to kill them was probably not the best idea in the world. He turned the vehicle sharply and jetted off down a side road, heading for somewhere other than there.
"Are you alright," he finally asked when he felt like they were far enough away from everything to be safe.
"No," She growled underneath her breath, but it was loud enough that he could hear her. In the events of slamming the gas, she smacked forward in to the rough seats face-first. She wasn't sure if anything was broken, but it was enough to warrant a black eye or bruise here or there. Then he suddenly turned, sending her head to the side of his knee at her temple, causing a massive migraine. By the time he'd ask about her well being, she was bent over the seat, just resting her head on the cushion while the rest of her sloped off and in to the floor board. Judging by his question, it would be safe enough to sit upright and buckle up, so she did so. Slow and steady - this shit hurts. Strapping herself in, she held her head with her hand, elbow on the door.
"Do you even know where Eden's Ranch is?"
"No, and I'm not worried about it," he said carefully as he stared forward. "We're going home, Lorelei. This vacation just got cut short."
"You can't be serious." She said flatly. Really? After all of this?
"Somebody just tried to kill you," he said, turning to look at her. "We're going home."
"Great idea." Sarcasm was becoming her best friend. "What better place to take me than the residence that everyone knows of. I bet they can get a few good shows of the room we'll be staying in if I let open the blinds a bit."
"Why do you have to be such a spoiled little bitch," he asked, his voice raising just a bit. "You know what? Fine. You get another fucking day in the same goddamn county as the person that wants you dead. Tomorrow, we're leaving, and we'll figure something out from there."
She wanted to argue further, but the migraine in her skull was getting worse - but what can you call it after it's already reached migraine status? She got another day, and that's what she'd wanted, right? The fact that he pointed out that the killer was also nearby didn't help her, but what choice did she have? The problem was that they obviously didn't have a problem shooting in the middle of the damn road, which meant she may not even be safe in the hide-away at Eden's. Do I really have to admit that he's right - at least partly?
"Compromise." Even though you called me a bitch, again. Spoiled, at that, though partially true. "Why don't we just drive? I have the cash we need for.. anything, since I"m assuming you've gone and left your shit in some other vehicle when you arrived and didn't have time to get it when ... " No. I won't admit that you kind of just saved my life. "Anyway, there's a lot of ground to cover between here and New York. And we should ditch Dick's jeep, since obviously, they know it by now."
"Yeah," he said, the adrenaline starting to wear off. His eyelids felt a couple of pounds heavier, but he never took his eyes from the road. "We'll drive till we get to a motel, sleep this shit off, and then we'll keep going. Whatever keeps you from bitching at me seems like a fucking fantastic plan to me."
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Motel 6 : Room 14 - Approx. Midnight
They arrived at Motel 6, Jackson took care of the room negotiations and they made their way up to a double twin bed room. With little to no conversation, the two settled in and slept.
Motel 6 : Room 14 - Approx. Two in the Morning
Lorelei woke up, let out a whimper at her head injury - bruising definitely happened on her right cheek. She rolled back over, groaning herself to sleep.
Motel 6 : Room 14 - Approx. Four in the Morning
Sometime in the middle of the night, Lorelei had managed to find herself on the hard floor. There was carpet on it, but it was that cheap stuff they slapped right on top of concrete - or at least it felt that way. It didn't wake her completely, but she remembered dizzily opening her eyes and muttering about a headache. Someone was there, and whoever it was lifted her from the floor gently and put her back on the as-comfortable-as-it-gets mattress, covering her back up with the thin blankets. She thanked the stranger, the blurry gaze finding them with a smile before she frowned again, holding her head. "It hurts..." The person said something in response, but she was too exhausted to hear what it was or make it out. Instead, she drifted back to sleep.
As far as she knew, the whole thing was a dream.
Motel 6 : Room 14 - Approx. Six in the Morning
Lorelei stared up at the ceiling as she finally woke. The windows gave way that it still wasn't an appropriate hour to be awake yet, but that didn't seem to stop her subconscious from buzzing inside of her head. Part of her was screaming, now's your chance to get the hell out! while the other struck back with, this man just saved your life! He obviously knew how to do his job correctly.
Sitting up as slowly as she could to keep the bed from creaking too loudly, Lorelei rose up and gazed down at her attire. Had she really stripped down to just the shirt she'd had on and the hipster pair of underwear/seemingly spandex shorts in his presence? Maybe it was the beer before, or maybe after all the fighting she figured he wouldn't find any attraction or awkward moment in her stripping down since all the pair seemed to want to do was kill the other. It was probably the latter.
Making her way across the room, she rummaged through the athletic bag that had been in the back of the jeep. Luckily, the only thing ruined was a bra that the bullet holes had pierced. Everything else was still fine and intact. Well, at least I don't have to go clothes shopping for me. She arched a brow over at Jackson's direction, wondering curiously if he would bother with something like that in their current situation. She let out a sigh, shaking her head as she pulled her shirt over her head, leaving herself topless to the skin. It didn't bother her in the current company because, well, she was a super star. He'd probably seen pictures before he'd even met her of Vogue that left hardly anything to the imagination because apparently, if you cover the nipples, you're not technically naked. She replaced the current lack of outfit with a loose shirt, shorts, a pair of earrings, a pair of cowgirl boots, and the perfect pair of shades. Well, the only pair of shades. Once the transition was complete, she stashed a few folded bits of cash in to her back pocket and made her way quietly out the door.
They were on the second story, the kind with the rickety railing that followed you all the way down the stairs to the vending machines placed so perfectly outside with prices so outrageous due to the convenience they provided. She slid in a dollar to get a Dr.Pepper, a coke, anything really. When nothing came out, she tried to kick it a few times to no avail. Running a hand through her bed-head hair she began to walk back up the way she'd come before she stopped in front of a window that granted her a decent reflection. Ouch... What a beauty mark. Her right eye was black, and the cheek beneath it was bright red - almost like the blood beneath it just never hit the surface. It was revolting! She let out a few breaths in disgust before bringing her hair to the front of her face, hiding that spot in particular the best that she could.
Upon reaching the door to the room, she turned her head to look out at the parking lot and interstate that it had been placed adjacent to. It was too early for anyone to be up, too early for any cars or killers to be around. She let out a breath, leaning against the railing as she squinted her eyes. It would be sunrise any moment now, and that'd been something she'd never been early enough to see. Not on purpose, anyway. She took a seat in a matching rickety chair, propped up her boots on the railing and sat there, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth against the morning cool air.
Well, if this is all the vacation I'm going to get, I might as well enjoy what I can.
They arrived at Motel 6, Jackson took care of the room negotiations and they made their way up to a double twin bed room. With little to no conversation, the two settled in and slept.
Motel 6 : Room 14 - Approx. Two in the Morning
Lorelei woke up, let out a whimper at her head injury - bruising definitely happened on her right cheek. She rolled back over, groaning herself to sleep.
Motel 6 : Room 14 - Approx. Four in the Morning
Sometime in the middle of the night, Lorelei had managed to find herself on the hard floor. There was carpet on it, but it was that cheap stuff they slapped right on top of concrete - or at least it felt that way. It didn't wake her completely, but she remembered dizzily opening her eyes and muttering about a headache. Someone was there, and whoever it was lifted her from the floor gently and put her back on the as-comfortable-as-it-gets mattress, covering her back up with the thin blankets. She thanked the stranger, the blurry gaze finding them with a smile before she frowned again, holding her head. "It hurts..." The person said something in response, but she was too exhausted to hear what it was or make it out. Instead, she drifted back to sleep.
As far as she knew, the whole thing was a dream.
Motel 6 : Room 14 - Approx. Six in the Morning
Lorelei stared up at the ceiling as she finally woke. The windows gave way that it still wasn't an appropriate hour to be awake yet, but that didn't seem to stop her subconscious from buzzing inside of her head. Part of her was screaming, now's your chance to get the hell out! while the other struck back with, this man just saved your life! He obviously knew how to do his job correctly.
Sitting up as slowly as she could to keep the bed from creaking too loudly, Lorelei rose up and gazed down at her attire. Had she really stripped down to just the shirt she'd had on and the hipster pair of underwear/seemingly spandex shorts in his presence? Maybe it was the beer before, or maybe after all the fighting she figured he wouldn't find any attraction or awkward moment in her stripping down since all the pair seemed to want to do was kill the other. It was probably the latter.
Making her way across the room, she rummaged through the athletic bag that had been in the back of the jeep. Luckily, the only thing ruined was a bra that the bullet holes had pierced. Everything else was still fine and intact. Well, at least I don't have to go clothes shopping for me. She arched a brow over at Jackson's direction, wondering curiously if he would bother with something like that in their current situation. She let out a sigh, shaking her head as she pulled her shirt over her head, leaving herself topless to the skin. It didn't bother her in the current company because, well, she was a super star. He'd probably seen pictures before he'd even met her of Vogue that left hardly anything to the imagination because apparently, if you cover the nipples, you're not technically naked. She replaced the current lack of outfit with a loose shirt, shorts, a pair of earrings, a pair of cowgirl boots, and the perfect pair of shades. Well, the only pair of shades. Once the transition was complete, she stashed a few folded bits of cash in to her back pocket and made her way quietly out the door.
They were on the second story, the kind with the rickety railing that followed you all the way down the stairs to the vending machines placed so perfectly outside with prices so outrageous due to the convenience they provided. She slid in a dollar to get a Dr.Pepper, a coke, anything really. When nothing came out, she tried to kick it a few times to no avail. Running a hand through her bed-head hair she began to walk back up the way she'd come before she stopped in front of a window that granted her a decent reflection. Ouch... What a beauty mark. Her right eye was black, and the cheek beneath it was bright red - almost like the blood beneath it just never hit the surface. It was revolting! She let out a few breaths in disgust before bringing her hair to the front of her face, hiding that spot in particular the best that she could.
Upon reaching the door to the room, she turned her head to look out at the parking lot and interstate that it had been placed adjacent to. It was too early for anyone to be up, too early for any cars or killers to be around. She let out a breath, leaning against the railing as she squinted her eyes. It would be sunrise any moment now, and that'd been something she'd never been early enough to see. Not on purpose, anyway. She took a seat in a matching rickety chair, propped up her boots on the railing and sat there, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth against the morning cool air.
Well, if this is all the vacation I'm going to get, I might as well enjoy what I can.
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Jackson's eyes fluttered open as the first signs of daylight filtered in between the crack between the two ratty looking curtains that hung in the window. He brought his hands up to his face and wiped at the sleep in his eyes. There was no way that he'd gotten enough sleep, but he had to get up. They had to get moving. Thoughts started chugging through his head like a freight train just taking off as he swung his feet off the side of the bed and stood, a shiver rolling through his body as the chilly morning air in the hotel room bit into his bare chest.
His eyes moved towards the bed he'd put her in last night when she'd passed out, and he saw it was empty. His heart jumped in his chest and his eyes went directly towards the bathroom door: It was closed, but he couldn't hear any sort of life on the other side. He moved quickly, almost tripping over the cheap carpet that covered the floor. He swore out loud and banged on the door.
No answer.
Oh fuck. He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialed Ralph's number as quick as he could. "Biggsy," Ralph answered. "Have you got her? Are you on your way back yet?"
"There was a complication," Jackson answered as he pulled his shoes on over his sock-clad feet and pulled the button-up on, not even bothering to button it up. "Someone tried to take her out last night as we were leaving the diner." There was a small pause on the other end of the line, and the sound of Ralph's hurried footsteps, an opening door, and his harder breathing took over.
"Shooter," he asked. "Did you get a clear line of sight on him?"
"Negative," Jackson replied as he pulled the car keys off the top of the chest-of-drawers that the TV sat on. "The shots were wild. She didn't get hit, and we made a run for it. Problem is...she's gone, Ralph. We made it to a motel about one hundred miles out of town to rest for the night, but she was gone when I woke up. She's either rabbited or..."
"Don't start thinking like that, Jackson," Ralph said sternly, his voice raising slightly. "We'll get her." Jackson heard a knocking sound from the other end of the line and then Lorelei's mother's voice. Ralph started recounting the story to her just as Jackson pulled the door to the room open and turned towards the stairs that they'd used to get to their room.
And ran smack into the chair that Lorelei was sitting in.
"Holy fucking Christ," Jackson yelled and grabbed at his chest. He looked down at the redhead, whose attention was now fully focused on him, and his gaze hardened. "What the fuck are you thinking? Since when does it seem like a good fucking idea to sit in the open when there's a goddamn shooter looking to kill you?!"
"Is she there, Jax," Ralph asked. "Is she safe?"
"She's here," Jackson replied. "Safe isn't so easy to figure out yet, because there's a high chance that I might beat her stupid ass for scaring the immortal fuck out of me." He flipped the phone shut and jammed it back into his pocket. His eyes stayed on her for a little bit longer before he took a deep breath and finally allowed himself the luxury of calming down. His gaze softened and he used his hand to tilt her chin to look up at him.
"How about you don't scare me like that again, yeah," he asked. The hair fell away from the side of her face that she'd tried to cover. "Holy shit, that's a nice shiner you've got there. Are you alright?"
His eyes moved towards the bed he'd put her in last night when she'd passed out, and he saw it was empty. His heart jumped in his chest and his eyes went directly towards the bathroom door: It was closed, but he couldn't hear any sort of life on the other side. He moved quickly, almost tripping over the cheap carpet that covered the floor. He swore out loud and banged on the door.
No answer.
Oh fuck. He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialed Ralph's number as quick as he could. "Biggsy," Ralph answered. "Have you got her? Are you on your way back yet?"
"There was a complication," Jackson answered as he pulled his shoes on over his sock-clad feet and pulled the button-up on, not even bothering to button it up. "Someone tried to take her out last night as we were leaving the diner." There was a small pause on the other end of the line, and the sound of Ralph's hurried footsteps, an opening door, and his harder breathing took over.
"Shooter," he asked. "Did you get a clear line of sight on him?"
"Negative," Jackson replied as he pulled the car keys off the top of the chest-of-drawers that the TV sat on. "The shots were wild. She didn't get hit, and we made a run for it. Problem is...she's gone, Ralph. We made it to a motel about one hundred miles out of town to rest for the night, but she was gone when I woke up. She's either rabbited or..."
"Don't start thinking like that, Jackson," Ralph said sternly, his voice raising slightly. "We'll get her." Jackson heard a knocking sound from the other end of the line and then Lorelei's mother's voice. Ralph started recounting the story to her just as Jackson pulled the door to the room open and turned towards the stairs that they'd used to get to their room.
And ran smack into the chair that Lorelei was sitting in.
"Holy fucking Christ," Jackson yelled and grabbed at his chest. He looked down at the redhead, whose attention was now fully focused on him, and his gaze hardened. "What the fuck are you thinking? Since when does it seem like a good fucking idea to sit in the open when there's a goddamn shooter looking to kill you?!"
"Is she there, Jax," Ralph asked. "Is she safe?"
"She's here," Jackson replied. "Safe isn't so easy to figure out yet, because there's a high chance that I might beat her stupid ass for scaring the immortal fuck out of me." He flipped the phone shut and jammed it back into his pocket. His eyes stayed on her for a little bit longer before he took a deep breath and finally allowed himself the luxury of calming down. His gaze softened and he used his hand to tilt her chin to look up at him.
"How about you don't scare me like that again, yeah," he asked. The hair fell away from the side of her face that she'd tried to cover. "Holy shit, that's a nice shiner you've got there. Are you alright?"
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Oops. She hadn't honestly meant to tick him off this time. Actually, there was a good part of her after witnessing that sunrise that wanted to do just the opposite. She'd given him enough hell and with her migraine thumping in her skull and raging battle wounds of last night, she had no desire to intentionally bring harm to his ego, his goals, or his perception of her. It just wasn't worth it.
It's amazing the epiphany a sunrise will give you, even for a 'spoiled superstar'.
"How about you don't scare me like that again, yeah," he asked.
She smiled politely, nodding to him after the explosion of anxiety from him. She rubbed the back of her head from the impact, but other than that, she didn't so much as give him a scowl. "Sure thing, sorry." The hair fell away from the side of her face that she'd tried to cover. "Holy shit, that's a nice shiner you've got there. Are you alright?"
She let out a laugh, "Yeah, I've been trying to cope with it this whole morning, thanks. There goes my money maker - I guess I better go try and find myself a real job." She'd meant it to be a joke, and had said it with the least bit of venom possible. Lorelei'd even bother winking at him on the punch line just to get her point across before she rose up and looked him over. "I guess we're leaving, then. I'll... go get my bag."
He looked down at himself and noticed that his shirt was still hanging open. His face flushed a bit and he started fixing that problem very quickly. "Yeah," he said with a smirk. "That would probably be the best idea, I suppose. We've got a good deal of ground to cover and a lot of things to get done before we even start that way."
Jackson held the door open for her and motioned her in with a smile. "I'll be down in the jeep," he said softly. "Just head down when you're ready." He'd be a liar if he said that he didn't look her over a time or two as she walked away from him, but he tore himself away from the scene before his mind could run too far away from him. He turned back towards the stairwell, headed down to the ground floor, and wandered his way to the jeep. Surprisingly, the bullet ridden windshield hadn't attracted too much attention from anyone at the motel - which probably should have worried him a little more than it did - but there was something wrong in the morning light: A post-it note clung to the part of the glass that hadn't spiderwebbed from the bullets. He snatched the thing from the window quickly and read it to himself:
I'll always find you, Dianthus.
"Fuck," he said to himself as he crumpled the piece of paper up in his hand. He heard her footsteps coming up behind him and pocketed the note quickly before she could see it. "Are you good to go?" Jackson climbed into the jeep and turned a glance to her, a wide but somewhat forced smile crossing his lips.
With the bag slung over her shoulder, she nodded with her hands up in a mock surrender position. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry I took so long. I wasn't sure when I'd get the next opportunity to pee." She smirked, making her way over to the passenger side to slip the bag in the backseat, tucked safely (because of the valuables within! Like clothes!) from harm's way and any more bullets.
With a firm spring of her foot, she jumped up and in to the jeep, falling in to the seat with effort. She brought her shades from on top of her head to the bridge of her nose and looked at him, "So, did we... ever.. make a plan?" With that, she manuevered the glasses correctly to fit and kicked up her boots on the dashboard. With herself buckled in, she laid her head back on the rough cushioned headrest. "Ugh, I don't even think I slept."
Totally oblivious.
"Ugh, I don't even think I slept."
Jackson laughed out loud as he pulled out of the motel's parking lot. "You were so far gone when we got here that I don't even think you realised that you were stripping down to your skivvies in front of me." He hit the gas and sped up to around eighty before he said anything else. "You scared me a little bit when you fell out of bed, though," he said carefully. "You were slurring your words and everything. Had me thinking that you had a concussion or something, but I put you back in bed and just kept an eye on you for a while."
He looked around them for a minute, taking in the scenery as they went by. These roads were mostly through some more rural areas, so he wasn't to terribly worried about running into any traffic or cops, but he still let off the gas a bit: They had enough to worry abou without adding reckless endangerment to the list.
"As for the plan," he continued, "I'm thinking we'll drive for as long as we can stand it. Next time we stop, we'll need to get ourselves a new car and some food. Possibly some new clothes for me if you're fed up with running around with someone that looks as dirty and sweaty as I do right about now."
She considered him for a moment, looking over without humiliation as she stared. He was supposed to be driving, anyhow, so if he caught her gaze she had an excuse to pull his away. For dirty and sweaty, he looked great. His 5 o'clock shadow had become ... plus 10 hours. Her eyes scattered about his features, trailing down to the jeans he'd worn. He really could pull off living out in Montana, and with yesterday's outfit, they could have believably passed for a couple, so long as she kept her wig on. So, what was it that sent off the clue that she was in Montana? She'd like to say that it was the taking off of her wig, but.. The killer had found them before she'd even revealed herself - which meant that he followed her - or that he'd had inside help.
It was awful, but Lorelei felt herself narrow her eyes at Jackson a moment. What if he was in on it, like an insider? She then quickly shook her head, massaged her temples and told herself that she was thinking too much about something she didn't have enough information on. Besides, he'd been on the otherside of the bullets.
"I don't think it's a concussion," She spoke of his comments before, "but for one beer, it's one hell of a hangover. I'm more concerned about the overdose of blush on the right side of my face. I mean, damn, your knee is kind of a pain in the -- well, face."
She let out a laugh, which made her groan in slight twinges of pain. "I'm sorry about this morning. I guess I'm still in the 'vacation' mindset and thought it would be nice, since my vacation was going to be cut short. I.. I guess I was still groggy from just waking up that I hadn't even thought about the fact that I was basically dancing around asking someone to shoot me. Well, not even dancing. I was a sitting duck."
"Clothes sounds good. I have a feeling that you wouldn't appreciate the arrangement that I've got for yourself. I just don't think your'e quite a B cup yet, darling." She smirked, raising up a hand through the wind. Might as well enjoy the ride as much as I can. "Oh, and sunscreen. We'll need that, too. I'm still technically a ginger - despite whatever wig or body color I'm wearing for my shows."
Suddenly, something began ringing from behind her. Her bag contained the phone she'd not bothered to touch since she'd arrived in Montana. Were they even still in Montana now? Pulling it out, she frowned at the caller id: Her Majesty The Queen. She turned down the volume of the ringer, slipping it between her legs to vibrate. "I thought you already checked in?"
"Yeah, well," he said with a half-smile as he stole a glance her way, "the last time I talked to Ralph, as was kinda worried that you'd ran, gotten kidnapped, or killed. I think that alone would warrant a call from your mother, don't you think?" He looked over at her and then down at the phone in her lap, trying his damndest not to linger on the exposed skin of her legs.
"Maybe you should answer. She doesn't hate you, you know. She just worries about you. A lot. LIke, a whole lot."
She'd caught that. He may not have thought it, but she followed his gaze and it brought a slight rise out of her, so to speak. Good thing her cheeks were already colored.
"Aha. Look, I kind of made a mental promise to myself that I was going to be civil with you today," She warned, wrinkling her nose at the thought of speaking to her mother. "I don't know how some people do it - the ones you see with their mothers like their BFFs or some bullshit. It's just never been that way with my mother, and it never will be. ... Let me try explaining it this way:
"I'm like that prize dog in a one of those championships. The one that wins all the trophies, gets you all the recognition for your hard work raising it, and when it finally shrivels up and dies because it's either over work or old... You move on and find a new dog. Okay, maybe this isn't the best analogy, but the reason she gives a damn so much about where I am, who I'm with, what I'm doing, how I'm acting... It's for tabs. She wants to know that her dog is still around, that it can still produce income for her because if you hadn't noticed, she hasn't done anything since Lady Gaga got her big break. And I haven't let her in on my crew since I learned better.
"I.. " She let out a sigh. Was there even a point to explaining this situation with her mother? She probably only sounded like the whiney, spoiled bitch that she was beginning to believe about herself since he'd said it.
"It's.. It's whatever. I'll call her when we eat. It's too noisy with the wind and shit right now, anyhow." She waved it off like it was nothing.
"I just don't want you regretting the whole not talking to her thing one of these days," he said with a sigh. "I understand that mothers can be difficult people to deal with. Even with me knowing that, I'd still give my right leg to be able to talk to my mother right about now..." His eyes narrowed for a minute before he glanced back over towards her. He hadn't talked about his mother with anyone other than Ralph in so long that it just felt kind of odd to be mentioning it to her. Hadn't they been fighting like crazy last night? What happened to that? Why were they talking like they actually liked each other, and why did she make him feel all...blushy?
"Nevermind," he finally said with a painfully obvious forced smile. "I don't need to bore you with my life shit. Now, go ahead and talk to me some more before I break down like a little wussy."
What do you say to someone who just alluded that their mother was dead? What do you say when their expression read that it obviously still came up in their minds and that she'd just pulled it out of some dark corner. What happened to the guy who was stinging her like a bee with his words the night before?
She opened her mouth to speak, to break the awkward silence, but nothing came out. Not for a while, at least. "Alright. I've got one. Have you ever actually listened to one of my songs?" Topic change? Challenge accepted.
He smiled. "To be completely honest," he said with a chuckle, "I haven't. All I figured I needed for the job was the manilla folder that Ralph slid my way, but I can go out and buy the discography if it'll garner me some bonus points."
Wait, since when did he care about getting bonus points with her? She thought today was about apologizing to him for lastnight, not the other way. Whatever. "Don't worry. I've got one in the jeep. - Before you think that I'm that narcisstic (sp?), it's Dick's. He'll always be my biggest fan."
Assuming that the cd player hadn't been destroyed in the process of fire last night, the recorder would flip on at the press of her finger on a button. Skipping to four, "This is all you need to know about my life." As the music began to play, she nodded her head rythmatically (sp?) to the beat before the voice came on. She sang to it, closing her eyes behind the sunglasses and waving her hand in the wind. Her tone matched to perfection. It was as if she'd felt every word just then as well as when recording.
He nodded along to the music and his smiled widened. "Well, it's not really my style, but I do like it. You've got yourself some talent, honey."
"I didn't figure. My 'talent' usually reaches the female crowd, especially those scorned and addicted to the bad boys - but weren't we all at one point. I wouldn't bother listening to my recent shit about my father. It was mandatory - like a tribute - and even though I had to, I still got to spill out my real feelings about him. -- He was a drug addict, by the way. I'm not saying my mom's a looney and he may not have been killed, but... She denies that, and will to her grave. It's true." Like any self-conscious being, she completely ignored the compliment. What did it mean, anyway, coming from someone who wasn't in the music industry? Yet, you still find it flattering... Odd, that. "Honestly, I.. I can't even call her crazy after last night, but I don't understand what I ever did to anyone to .. make them want me dead."
"A lot of these guys don't even need a valid reason. In one way or another, they've probably gotten addicted to you and gave birth to a brand new 'If I can't have her, no one can mindset." He shook his head and stole another glance at her. "Don't worry, though. I'm the best for a reason, honey, and I'm not going to let any scruffy looking nerf-herder near you, alright" Holy fuck. I must be tired if I'm breaking out the Star Wars references.
"Anyway," he said with a small yawn. "Yeah. You're safe with me."
She arched a brow at him, biting her bottom lip to stifle her laugh. She was intelligent enough to konw what Star Wars was, and she knew what a nerf-herder was, but the character he quoted escaped her. Not that she'd admit it. It was the thought that counted anyway, right? Unfortunately, it didn't make her feel any better. Someone had taken the fucking time to haul their ass to Montana by the evening of her arrival - just to shoot her. She had a moment where she thought about Selena, the mexican singer that had been shot by her own business manager over money. Do I have any enemies like that?
"Ah, well at least I can trust my mother to hire the best, then." She nodded her head as she flipped off the cd and turned it to the radio, hoping a channel would pick up sooner or later. Finally, some classic rock filled the silence before she turned er gaze to him and grinned.
"You know, we're going to have to get you a set of shades so that it's not so obvious when you look me over." She stuck her tongue to her cheek.
It's amazing the epiphany a sunrise will give you, even for a 'spoiled superstar'.
"How about you don't scare me like that again, yeah," he asked.
She smiled politely, nodding to him after the explosion of anxiety from him. She rubbed the back of her head from the impact, but other than that, she didn't so much as give him a scowl. "Sure thing, sorry." The hair fell away from the side of her face that she'd tried to cover. "Holy shit, that's a nice shiner you've got there. Are you alright?"
She let out a laugh, "Yeah, I've been trying to cope with it this whole morning, thanks. There goes my money maker - I guess I better go try and find myself a real job." She'd meant it to be a joke, and had said it with the least bit of venom possible. Lorelei'd even bother winking at him on the punch line just to get her point across before she rose up and looked him over. "I guess we're leaving, then. I'll... go get my bag."
He looked down at himself and noticed that his shirt was still hanging open. His face flushed a bit and he started fixing that problem very quickly. "Yeah," he said with a smirk. "That would probably be the best idea, I suppose. We've got a good deal of ground to cover and a lot of things to get done before we even start that way."
Jackson held the door open for her and motioned her in with a smile. "I'll be down in the jeep," he said softly. "Just head down when you're ready." He'd be a liar if he said that he didn't look her over a time or two as she walked away from him, but he tore himself away from the scene before his mind could run too far away from him. He turned back towards the stairwell, headed down to the ground floor, and wandered his way to the jeep. Surprisingly, the bullet ridden windshield hadn't attracted too much attention from anyone at the motel - which probably should have worried him a little more than it did - but there was something wrong in the morning light: A post-it note clung to the part of the glass that hadn't spiderwebbed from the bullets. He snatched the thing from the window quickly and read it to himself:
I'll always find you, Dianthus.
"Fuck," he said to himself as he crumpled the piece of paper up in his hand. He heard her footsteps coming up behind him and pocketed the note quickly before she could see it. "Are you good to go?" Jackson climbed into the jeep and turned a glance to her, a wide but somewhat forced smile crossing his lips.
With the bag slung over her shoulder, she nodded with her hands up in a mock surrender position. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry I took so long. I wasn't sure when I'd get the next opportunity to pee." She smirked, making her way over to the passenger side to slip the bag in the backseat, tucked safely (because of the valuables within! Like clothes!) from harm's way and any more bullets.
With a firm spring of her foot, she jumped up and in to the jeep, falling in to the seat with effort. She brought her shades from on top of her head to the bridge of her nose and looked at him, "So, did we... ever.. make a plan?" With that, she manuevered the glasses correctly to fit and kicked up her boots on the dashboard. With herself buckled in, she laid her head back on the rough cushioned headrest. "Ugh, I don't even think I slept."
Totally oblivious.
"Ugh, I don't even think I slept."
Jackson laughed out loud as he pulled out of the motel's parking lot. "You were so far gone when we got here that I don't even think you realised that you were stripping down to your skivvies in front of me." He hit the gas and sped up to around eighty before he said anything else. "You scared me a little bit when you fell out of bed, though," he said carefully. "You were slurring your words and everything. Had me thinking that you had a concussion or something, but I put you back in bed and just kept an eye on you for a while."
He looked around them for a minute, taking in the scenery as they went by. These roads were mostly through some more rural areas, so he wasn't to terribly worried about running into any traffic or cops, but he still let off the gas a bit: They had enough to worry abou without adding reckless endangerment to the list.
"As for the plan," he continued, "I'm thinking we'll drive for as long as we can stand it. Next time we stop, we'll need to get ourselves a new car and some food. Possibly some new clothes for me if you're fed up with running around with someone that looks as dirty and sweaty as I do right about now."
She considered him for a moment, looking over without humiliation as she stared. He was supposed to be driving, anyhow, so if he caught her gaze she had an excuse to pull his away. For dirty and sweaty, he looked great. His 5 o'clock shadow had become ... plus 10 hours. Her eyes scattered about his features, trailing down to the jeans he'd worn. He really could pull off living out in Montana, and with yesterday's outfit, they could have believably passed for a couple, so long as she kept her wig on. So, what was it that sent off the clue that she was in Montana? She'd like to say that it was the taking off of her wig, but.. The killer had found them before she'd even revealed herself - which meant that he followed her - or that he'd had inside help.
It was awful, but Lorelei felt herself narrow her eyes at Jackson a moment. What if he was in on it, like an insider? She then quickly shook her head, massaged her temples and told herself that she was thinking too much about something she didn't have enough information on. Besides, he'd been on the otherside of the bullets.
"I don't think it's a concussion," She spoke of his comments before, "but for one beer, it's one hell of a hangover. I'm more concerned about the overdose of blush on the right side of my face. I mean, damn, your knee is kind of a pain in the -- well, face."
She let out a laugh, which made her groan in slight twinges of pain. "I'm sorry about this morning. I guess I'm still in the 'vacation' mindset and thought it would be nice, since my vacation was going to be cut short. I.. I guess I was still groggy from just waking up that I hadn't even thought about the fact that I was basically dancing around asking someone to shoot me. Well, not even dancing. I was a sitting duck."
"Clothes sounds good. I have a feeling that you wouldn't appreciate the arrangement that I've got for yourself. I just don't think your'e quite a B cup yet, darling." She smirked, raising up a hand through the wind. Might as well enjoy the ride as much as I can. "Oh, and sunscreen. We'll need that, too. I'm still technically a ginger - despite whatever wig or body color I'm wearing for my shows."
Suddenly, something began ringing from behind her. Her bag contained the phone she'd not bothered to touch since she'd arrived in Montana. Were they even still in Montana now? Pulling it out, she frowned at the caller id: Her Majesty The Queen. She turned down the volume of the ringer, slipping it between her legs to vibrate. "I thought you already checked in?"
"Yeah, well," he said with a half-smile as he stole a glance her way, "the last time I talked to Ralph, as was kinda worried that you'd ran, gotten kidnapped, or killed. I think that alone would warrant a call from your mother, don't you think?" He looked over at her and then down at the phone in her lap, trying his damndest not to linger on the exposed skin of her legs.
"Maybe you should answer. She doesn't hate you, you know. She just worries about you. A lot. LIke, a whole lot."
She'd caught that. He may not have thought it, but she followed his gaze and it brought a slight rise out of her, so to speak. Good thing her cheeks were already colored.
"Aha. Look, I kind of made a mental promise to myself that I was going to be civil with you today," She warned, wrinkling her nose at the thought of speaking to her mother. "I don't know how some people do it - the ones you see with their mothers like their BFFs or some bullshit. It's just never been that way with my mother, and it never will be. ... Let me try explaining it this way:
"I'm like that prize dog in a one of those championships. The one that wins all the trophies, gets you all the recognition for your hard work raising it, and when it finally shrivels up and dies because it's either over work or old... You move on and find a new dog. Okay, maybe this isn't the best analogy, but the reason she gives a damn so much about where I am, who I'm with, what I'm doing, how I'm acting... It's for tabs. She wants to know that her dog is still around, that it can still produce income for her because if you hadn't noticed, she hasn't done anything since Lady Gaga got her big break. And I haven't let her in on my crew since I learned better.
"I.. " She let out a sigh. Was there even a point to explaining this situation with her mother? She probably only sounded like the whiney, spoiled bitch that she was beginning to believe about herself since he'd said it.
"It's.. It's whatever. I'll call her when we eat. It's too noisy with the wind and shit right now, anyhow." She waved it off like it was nothing.
"I just don't want you regretting the whole not talking to her thing one of these days," he said with a sigh. "I understand that mothers can be difficult people to deal with. Even with me knowing that, I'd still give my right leg to be able to talk to my mother right about now..." His eyes narrowed for a minute before he glanced back over towards her. He hadn't talked about his mother with anyone other than Ralph in so long that it just felt kind of odd to be mentioning it to her. Hadn't they been fighting like crazy last night? What happened to that? Why were they talking like they actually liked each other, and why did she make him feel all...blushy?
"Nevermind," he finally said with a painfully obvious forced smile. "I don't need to bore you with my life shit. Now, go ahead and talk to me some more before I break down like a little wussy."
What do you say to someone who just alluded that their mother was dead? What do you say when their expression read that it obviously still came up in their minds and that she'd just pulled it out of some dark corner. What happened to the guy who was stinging her like a bee with his words the night before?
She opened her mouth to speak, to break the awkward silence, but nothing came out. Not for a while, at least. "Alright. I've got one. Have you ever actually listened to one of my songs?" Topic change? Challenge accepted.
He smiled. "To be completely honest," he said with a chuckle, "I haven't. All I figured I needed for the job was the manilla folder that Ralph slid my way, but I can go out and buy the discography if it'll garner me some bonus points."
Wait, since when did he care about getting bonus points with her? She thought today was about apologizing to him for lastnight, not the other way. Whatever. "Don't worry. I've got one in the jeep. - Before you think that I'm that narcisstic (sp?), it's Dick's. He'll always be my biggest fan."
Assuming that the cd player hadn't been destroyed in the process of fire last night, the recorder would flip on at the press of her finger on a button. Skipping to four, "This is all you need to know about my life." As the music began to play, she nodded her head rythmatically (sp?) to the beat before the voice came on. She sang to it, closing her eyes behind the sunglasses and waving her hand in the wind. Her tone matched to perfection. It was as if she'd felt every word just then as well as when recording.
He nodded along to the music and his smiled widened. "Well, it's not really my style, but I do like it. You've got yourself some talent, honey."
"I didn't figure. My 'talent' usually reaches the female crowd, especially those scorned and addicted to the bad boys - but weren't we all at one point. I wouldn't bother listening to my recent shit about my father. It was mandatory - like a tribute - and even though I had to, I still got to spill out my real feelings about him. -- He was a drug addict, by the way. I'm not saying my mom's a looney and he may not have been killed, but... She denies that, and will to her grave. It's true." Like any self-conscious being, she completely ignored the compliment. What did it mean, anyway, coming from someone who wasn't in the music industry? Yet, you still find it flattering... Odd, that. "Honestly, I.. I can't even call her crazy after last night, but I don't understand what I ever did to anyone to .. make them want me dead."
"A lot of these guys don't even need a valid reason. In one way or another, they've probably gotten addicted to you and gave birth to a brand new 'If I can't have her, no one can mindset." He shook his head and stole another glance at her. "Don't worry, though. I'm the best for a reason, honey, and I'm not going to let any scruffy looking nerf-herder near you, alright" Holy fuck. I must be tired if I'm breaking out the Star Wars references.
"Anyway," he said with a small yawn. "Yeah. You're safe with me."
She arched a brow at him, biting her bottom lip to stifle her laugh. She was intelligent enough to konw what Star Wars was, and she knew what a nerf-herder was, but the character he quoted escaped her. Not that she'd admit it. It was the thought that counted anyway, right? Unfortunately, it didn't make her feel any better. Someone had taken the fucking time to haul their ass to Montana by the evening of her arrival - just to shoot her. She had a moment where she thought about Selena, the mexican singer that had been shot by her own business manager over money. Do I have any enemies like that?
"Ah, well at least I can trust my mother to hire the best, then." She nodded her head as she flipped off the cd and turned it to the radio, hoping a channel would pick up sooner or later. Finally, some classic rock filled the silence before she turned er gaze to him and grinned.
"You know, we're going to have to get you a set of shades so that it's not so obvious when you look me over." She stuck her tongue to her cheek.
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His face flushed. "You noticed that, huh," he asked with a smile. "I'm sorry." There was a small silence that followed as he let the music bleed through the speakers and into his ears. It was something by Pink Floyd from the sound of it. Good, but not something high enough on his list of favorites to call forth anything like awkward driver side dancing.
"Actually," he said, turning his head to her, "I'm not sorry. I like looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago that I wouldn't deny myself the smaller pleasures in life. There's too many other things to worry about, and there's not enough time to get it all done. Why keep yourself from smiling whenever you're able?" His smiled widened and he looked back in time enough to pull them away from the edge of the asphalt and back into their lane. "Okay. So...maybe I should do less looking when I'm driving."
Jackson laughed. It wasn't some cheap imitation of laughter that you throw on at parties, either. This was his actual laugh. It was deep and he kinda wheezed from lack of air sometimes in the middle, but it was his laugh, embarrassing as it could be at times. Just then, a song from his list of favorites started playing and his eyes widened considerably.
"I love this song," he shouted. Then the dancing started.
"Actually," he said, turning his head to her, "I'm not sorry. I like looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago that I wouldn't deny myself the smaller pleasures in life. There's too many other things to worry about, and there's not enough time to get it all done. Why keep yourself from smiling whenever you're able?" His smiled widened and he looked back in time enough to pull them away from the edge of the asphalt and back into their lane. "Okay. So...maybe I should do less looking when I'm driving."
Jackson laughed. It wasn't some cheap imitation of laughter that you throw on at parties, either. This was his actual laugh. It was deep and he kinda wheezed from lack of air sometimes in the middle, but it was his laugh, embarrassing as it could be at times. Just then, a song from his list of favorites started playing and his eyes widened considerably.
"I love this song," he shouted. Then the dancing started.
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Well, it was a compliment. Indirectly, but still, she'd take it. Granted, she spent most of her days taking the same compliments and it didn't seem to phase her at all. What was different about this time?
Perhaps it was the fact that he'd taken back his apology like so many others who'd interrupted her day for a picture and complimented her on something she was aware of. It wasn't arrogance or confidence - it was fact. You had to be pleasing to the eye if you were going to make it anywhere in the celebrity business. Look at Megan Fox: dumb as a door nail, yet she still makes a living because she can play that 'insanely hot' this or that.
No, what had caught her eye was that he apologized, took it back, and then justified himself. And then he smiled - and then whenever they almost hit the asphalt, he laughed. She didn't laugh with him; she just admired him from her seat. Laughs looked good on him, yet the majority of their time together she'd either spent it harming him unintentionally or fighting. This was definitely her favorite - though humility looked good on him.
"I love this song," he shouted, and then proceeded to show such affections for the tune with a bust out of dance moves. This was when Lorelei let him have a turn to hear her honest laugh, shaking her head. She playfully shooed him away with her hands, her smile ever present as she bent over and held her sides.
"I don't know what just happened, but I'm not sure if you're qualified anymore, sir," she joked, shaking her head. This was probably the most fun she'd had... In a very long time. When the song was over and things had calmed down, she leaned her head against her arm, against the door. "Do you ever wonder about what things would be like if your mother hadn't died? I'm not asking you about how you feel about her, or trying to bring up memories, but.. I mean, do you think your life would be different? I've thought about it a lot since my father.."
Perhaps it was the fact that he'd taken back his apology like so many others who'd interrupted her day for a picture and complimented her on something she was aware of. It wasn't arrogance or confidence - it was fact. You had to be pleasing to the eye if you were going to make it anywhere in the celebrity business. Look at Megan Fox: dumb as a door nail, yet she still makes a living because she can play that 'insanely hot' this or that.
No, what had caught her eye was that he apologized, took it back, and then justified himself. And then he smiled - and then whenever they almost hit the asphalt, he laughed. She didn't laugh with him; she just admired him from her seat. Laughs looked good on him, yet the majority of their time together she'd either spent it harming him unintentionally or fighting. This was definitely her favorite - though humility looked good on him.
"I love this song," he shouted, and then proceeded to show such affections for the tune with a bust out of dance moves. This was when Lorelei let him have a turn to hear her honest laugh, shaking her head. She playfully shooed him away with her hands, her smile ever present as she bent over and held her sides.
"I don't know what just happened, but I'm not sure if you're qualified anymore, sir," she joked, shaking her head. This was probably the most fun she'd had... In a very long time. When the song was over and things had calmed down, she leaned her head against her arm, against the door. "Do you ever wonder about what things would be like if your mother hadn't died? I'm not asking you about how you feel about her, or trying to bring up memories, but.. I mean, do you think your life would be different? I've thought about it a lot since my father.."
"I've not thought about it a whole lot, actually," he said, his eyes focused on the road before them. He felt an ache rise up in his heart that he hadn't felt in a good while and pictures of his mother's face, mostly of her smiling or laughing, started running through his mind at full speed. His smile shrank, but a ghost of it still lingered on his lips. "I mean, I got into this line of work for us. Living in New York is expensive, you know? After the Army, I just kind of had nothing else I could do, so I did what I knew best. I'm really good at protecting people." Then he let out a sigh.
"Of course," he continued, "if she'd have been around when the shit hit the fan, I probably would have been able to keep Alexcis." His words sounded a bit more weary, but it wasn't from physical exhaustion. Alexcis was another topic that very rarely ever came up in regular conversation. It wasn't that he didn't love his little girl, it's just that he didn't want anyone asking too many questions. He honestly didn't know why he was telling Lorelei about her at that moment. "Apparently the judicial system thinks that a child is almost always better off with their mother, no matter how much of a druggie slut the mother happens to be. Mom would have fought for as long as it took to keep her, though. I know she would have."
He turned his head to Lorelei and nodded slightly. "So, yeah," he said, forcing a small smile. "I guess things would have been a little different, but I probably would have still wound up here with you in rural Montana heading towards New York City in a - technically - stolen jeep."
The current thought amused her. It is technically stolen, isn't it?
Then she returned to her other thoughts, the ones that had been roused by his confession - if that is what she was going to call it. So. He's got a daughter. Or had one. Wow, that.. really sucks. And to top it off, she actually felt bad for him. Yeah, they'd had a few fights, but she could still see the paternity in him, with the way he was so immediate with his actions and concerns for her just because she wasn't in his gaze this morning. If he could get so amped up over being a bodyguard, he was sure to care for his daughter. Idly, she wondered how old she would be by now, but that was rude and too intrusive. Especially when she was just starting to like this guy.
"The Army, hmm? Thank you for your service." Haha, yeah, thanks for saving our country - but I hadn't thought twice about thanking you for directly saving my life. Whoops. "And.. thanks for last night. I'm pretty sure I would have ended up like that girl in the horror films who's running in her high heels, defying all physics and gravity with perfect poise until I run myself in to an alley and face my predator. Then I die. So, yeah. Thanks for that."
Should she even bring up her thoughts on his daughter? "Who's idea was the name Alexcis? I like it, personally. I bet she's a beautiful spitting image of her father. I suppose she'll grow up with good looks." She winked at him behind her shades, letting out a sigh. I really hope I didn't just cross a line.
"Why thank you," he said with a laugh. "For the service, the saving your life, and for the good looks comment. And her name was my idea. Alexcis Grace Biggs, my little ball of sunshine."
"Grace, I bet she has more than I do." She commented, joking with him.
"Oh, not in the slightest," he said with another laugh. "I was so worried when she started walking because the girl seemed like she could trip over air while standing still. The thought actually ran through my mind several times to wrap either her or everything we owned in bubble wrap to keep her from breaking anything." His smile widened and the shrank back to near nothing in almost an instant. "I wish I had a more recent picture that I could show you of her, but I haven't even got one. The only one I've got is one from her second birthday party."
Jackson raised himself off of the seat and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket with his free hand. He flipped it open, checked to see that the picture was still there with his own eyes, and then tossed it into Lorelei's lap.
She took the wallet delicately, as if it was a piece of glass that would shatter with too much pressure. She traced a finger over Alexcis' face, letting out a maternal sigh and nod. "She's gorgeous, Jackson. I bet you miss her a lot, hmm?"
The picture almost hurt her. She saw the pain in his eyes, the longing in his daughter's, and then the pit of her stomach reminded her that she'd never have this moment. Lorelei closed her eyes for a moment, shutting the wallet and placing her hands over it in hher lap, like a scared charm she didn't want to let go of just yet. Idly, she let her mind wander off to a place where Jackson had custody of his daughter, where she would run about and trip, he'd freak out, but everything would be okay in the end and they'd laugh. Or at least she would while he was recovering from his heart attack. She laughed, coming to join them before she shook her head back to reality. She wasn't a part of that picture, and Alexcis wasn't in his custody, and she'd never be able to produce another.
Oh well. Dreams were still nice.
"Well, this whole thing took a turn for the serious." Lorelei laughed nervously, handing the wallet back over to it's rightful owner. "So, how far away do you think we are from food?"
Jackson slid his wallet back into its hiding place and looked over at Lorelei quickly. "I have no earthly clue. How about you pull that fancy phone out and give us an idea?"
"Of course," he continued, "if she'd have been around when the shit hit the fan, I probably would have been able to keep Alexcis." His words sounded a bit more weary, but it wasn't from physical exhaustion. Alexcis was another topic that very rarely ever came up in regular conversation. It wasn't that he didn't love his little girl, it's just that he didn't want anyone asking too many questions. He honestly didn't know why he was telling Lorelei about her at that moment. "Apparently the judicial system thinks that a child is almost always better off with their mother, no matter how much of a druggie slut the mother happens to be. Mom would have fought for as long as it took to keep her, though. I know she would have."
He turned his head to Lorelei and nodded slightly. "So, yeah," he said, forcing a small smile. "I guess things would have been a little different, but I probably would have still wound up here with you in rural Montana heading towards New York City in a - technically - stolen jeep."
The current thought amused her. It is technically stolen, isn't it?
Then she returned to her other thoughts, the ones that had been roused by his confession - if that is what she was going to call it. So. He's got a daughter. Or had one. Wow, that.. really sucks. And to top it off, she actually felt bad for him. Yeah, they'd had a few fights, but she could still see the paternity in him, with the way he was so immediate with his actions and concerns for her just because she wasn't in his gaze this morning. If he could get so amped up over being a bodyguard, he was sure to care for his daughter. Idly, she wondered how old she would be by now, but that was rude and too intrusive. Especially when she was just starting to like this guy.
"The Army, hmm? Thank you for your service." Haha, yeah, thanks for saving our country - but I hadn't thought twice about thanking you for directly saving my life. Whoops. "And.. thanks for last night. I'm pretty sure I would have ended up like that girl in the horror films who's running in her high heels, defying all physics and gravity with perfect poise until I run myself in to an alley and face my predator. Then I die. So, yeah. Thanks for that."
Should she even bring up her thoughts on his daughter? "Who's idea was the name Alexcis? I like it, personally. I bet she's a beautiful spitting image of her father. I suppose she'll grow up with good looks." She winked at him behind her shades, letting out a sigh. I really hope I didn't just cross a line.
"Why thank you," he said with a laugh. "For the service, the saving your life, and for the good looks comment. And her name was my idea. Alexcis Grace Biggs, my little ball of sunshine."
"Grace, I bet she has more than I do." She commented, joking with him.
"Oh, not in the slightest," he said with another laugh. "I was so worried when she started walking because the girl seemed like she could trip over air while standing still. The thought actually ran through my mind several times to wrap either her or everything we owned in bubble wrap to keep her from breaking anything." His smile widened and the shrank back to near nothing in almost an instant. "I wish I had a more recent picture that I could show you of her, but I haven't even got one. The only one I've got is one from her second birthday party."
Jackson raised himself off of the seat and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket with his free hand. He flipped it open, checked to see that the picture was still there with his own eyes, and then tossed it into Lorelei's lap.
She took the wallet delicately, as if it was a piece of glass that would shatter with too much pressure. She traced a finger over Alexcis' face, letting out a maternal sigh and nod. "She's gorgeous, Jackson. I bet you miss her a lot, hmm?"
The picture almost hurt her. She saw the pain in his eyes, the longing in his daughter's, and then the pit of her stomach reminded her that she'd never have this moment. Lorelei closed her eyes for a moment, shutting the wallet and placing her hands over it in hher lap, like a scared charm she didn't want to let go of just yet. Idly, she let her mind wander off to a place where Jackson had custody of his daughter, where she would run about and trip, he'd freak out, but everything would be okay in the end and they'd laugh. Or at least she would while he was recovering from his heart attack. She laughed, coming to join them before she shook her head back to reality. She wasn't a part of that picture, and Alexcis wasn't in his custody, and she'd never be able to produce another.
Oh well. Dreams were still nice.
"Well, this whole thing took a turn for the serious." Lorelei laughed nervously, handing the wallet back over to it's rightful owner. "So, how far away do you think we are from food?"
Jackson slid his wallet back into its hiding place and looked over at Lorelei quickly. "I have no earthly clue. How about you pull that fancy phone out and give us an idea?"
Setting
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Maybe it was because they were on an interstate, or because it was countryside, but apparently, the only restaurants around were drive-ins, diners, and fast food chains like Sonic and McDonald's. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but Lorelei couldn't help but feel a ping of spoiled annoyance at the selection. She assumed that for Jackson, this would be normal, but as far as she was concerned, if there wasn't cavier and fourty dollar appetizers, something was wrong or the food was poisoned.
Nevertheless, they pulled in to the Jack in the Box parking lot and the moment became a bit awkward. They had an agenda, you see, and it read a few... minor details to the efficiency of their plan to arrive in NYC:
1) Food. Lorelei was starving, and she's sure he was by now too. But would they chance a sit down? What if they were spotted, or someone came in shooting... again.
2) Should she bother with a guise? Another wig, maybe? Another outfit, definitely, and Jackson needed one. And a shower, but she wouldn't openly admit that one.... Or that part of her desired the image beneath his clothes underneath running water and soap suds. No, that would stay private in her thoughts.
3) The jeep. They needed to ditch it, and it needed to happen relatively fast. Were they going to steal one, or would they pay for one? And with whose card? Were her purchases tracked by this mysterious sniper? Or murderer?
Then it hit her. Her mother was fucking right. Someone had tried to shoot her, and the worst part was trying to figure out why. It bothered her, and Jackson must have seen it in the rest of the car ride. It hadn't been silent, but the more she'd thought about it, the more quiet and distant she'd become. She felt a bit safer, hearing the confidence he'd spoke about earlier, reassuring her that he was the best for it and ... Some cheesy Star Wars line, but...
Someone was still coming to get her. It just didn't make sense. She's been active in charities, foundations, organizations for children and hospitals... She'd participated in the Make-A-Wish foundation yearly - almost monthly as it was demanded. She may have a nice life, and she may be absorbed in it from time to time... Okay, all the time, but did that make her a bad person? A person worthless enough to rid from the planet prematurely?
The chills began to run up her spine as she turned to look at him, sticking her tongue to her cheek. It was true, she wasn't thrilled about the choice in food, but that was the least of her worries right now. "So... What does one even get in a place like this?"
Nevertheless, they pulled in to the Jack in the Box parking lot and the moment became a bit awkward. They had an agenda, you see, and it read a few... minor details to the efficiency of their plan to arrive in NYC:
1) Food. Lorelei was starving, and she's sure he was by now too. But would they chance a sit down? What if they were spotted, or someone came in shooting... again.
2) Should she bother with a guise? Another wig, maybe? Another outfit, definitely, and Jackson needed one. And a shower, but she wouldn't openly admit that one.... Or that part of her desired the image beneath his clothes underneath running water and soap suds. No, that would stay private in her thoughts.
3) The jeep. They needed to ditch it, and it needed to happen relatively fast. Were they going to steal one, or would they pay for one? And with whose card? Were her purchases tracked by this mysterious sniper? Or murderer?
Then it hit her. Her mother was fucking right. Someone had tried to shoot her, and the worst part was trying to figure out why. It bothered her, and Jackson must have seen it in the rest of the car ride. It hadn't been silent, but the more she'd thought about it, the more quiet and distant she'd become. She felt a bit safer, hearing the confidence he'd spoke about earlier, reassuring her that he was the best for it and ... Some cheesy Star Wars line, but...
Someone was still coming to get her. It just didn't make sense. She's been active in charities, foundations, organizations for children and hospitals... She'd participated in the Make-A-Wish foundation yearly - almost monthly as it was demanded. She may have a nice life, and she may be absorbed in it from time to time... Okay, all the time, but did that make her a bad person? A person worthless enough to rid from the planet prematurely?
The chills began to run up her spine as she turned to look at him, sticking her tongue to her cheek. It was true, she wasn't thrilled about the choice in food, but that was the least of her worries right now. "So... What does one even get in a place like this?"
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Jackson Evan Biggs
"Well, ain't that a daisy?"
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"I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way."
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"I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way."
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"Well, ain't that a daisy?"
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"Well, ain't that a daisy?"
Dianthus
"I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way."
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23 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2012-07-28 06:29:58 »
The home country. Most of her performances are within this location.
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Kill Her If You Can
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Kill Her If You Can
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Kill Her If You Can
Gunneh, here's the character skeleton code. Bolded for you because I'm OCD like that. (:
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[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Nickname:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Physical Description:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Likes:[/b]
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[b]Dislikes:[/b]
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