sucreé

He remembered Dunkirk. The script. He remembered it was brought over by Tomas, set down in the bakery, and how they looked at each other over the words that Skylar was relieved to know it wasn’t just him that had no idea what they meant. Not only did there have to be a difference between the English spoken in America and the Dutch he knew, but there now had to be the difference of English English added to the mix. Though, it wasn’t his script to learn. He had no lines that belonged to him to memorize. His backdrop was the bakery, his supporting cast was the dough he murmured to when no one else was around to talk to, and the only spotlight he was accustomed to was a new lightbulb replacing a burnt one.

It was exactly that that made him tentative about coming to the premiere of Dunkirk. He didn’t belong, not really. Ade had convinced him, was technically her date, convinced him that it had been her that had gotten invited, even when Tomas’ name was on the envelope. Typo was the answer. He didn’t know how the system worked, and computers were an equal mystery; it sounded… possible. And so there he was, in a blazer made of cornflower blue tartan with very unlikely matching pants of off-yellow, too much hue to be considered beige by anyone that wasn’t the baker. It was impossible to stay out of view, and yet he tried, reverting to the only role he knew.

“The kitchen needs help,” he explained, caught picking up the empty champagne glasses that littered the table he had been found at. “…Where is the kitchen?”

“you’re a guest mon frère!” she did love these big hollywood premieres. everyone scurrying about with such an urgency to make sure the guests were all relaxed and hand their hands full of the hors d'oeuvres. her own was a tiny plate of canapes that she had yet to actually try. she didn’t think they were going to be very good. who’d ever heard of such a thing with english themed food. “you shouldn’t worry about the kitchen, oh you sound net als tomas. i can’t take you two anywhere!” at least nowhere fun. 

“the kitchen must be very nice,” she nodded, her thoughts finally coming around to what skylar might have wanted to see it for. they were forever a source of comparison, what might be nicer. what could the table use? a search for new flavor profiles, that’s what aleid has said as she agreed to another stay in los angeles. and to check on papa. send word. comment va-t-il? sleeping aleid, always sleeping. she hadn’t yet wasted the day going up to the hospital. not when there was dunkirk to focus all her attention.  “but i’m sure we would only be in the way of the head chef.” 

and if there was one thing she couldn’t understand it was other people in her kitchen. she would simply not be that person unless so invited. she adjusted her plain slip dress. everyone had assured her the silk was chic but not over bearing, although it was slightly chilled for the occasion of a party such as this. next to her brother she looked positively plain, but she had not packed to be a movie star. “just leave them. you see that’s los angeles people get to be careless!” 

“You couldn’t know that.” Because she never did. She never knew much. He loved his sister, but these were the facts he had faced on a daily basis since the twins had been born. He had resigned himself to her ways when they were done in her own bubble, but when it came to the bakery, there was no room for her and that bubble to exist, walls too close together for it to stay intact, squeezing to a fine point. Did it burst? Not exactly. More like reformed.

“It was Nederlands,” he spoke back, a half-attentive focus to her to only understand half of what she had said, her laugh echoing behind him as he began to get back on the soles of his clogs. Of Ade’s greatest benefits, he didn’t worry as much when it came to hiding anything from her. Her distraction was her own doing, taking the flour sacks on his own free time while she continued on, only pausing when she spoke Tomas’ name. “Won’t tell what?” The connection hadn’t been made, the languages hurtled at him, enough to lose their meaning, his brain only trained to process cooking times and measurements, not the craft of speaking in tongues. “Cafeïnevrije koffie,” he answered eventually, scratching at the back of his head. “Making it early. Who is the holiday?”

“why not!” she was a chef after all, spent just as much time in the kitchen as any one of her other siblings. it was easy to tell when someone was in the middle of a recipe and when they were just standing in the kitchen early in the morning. even if he liked to pretend he was mysterious, it was not the case. “your words! he would faint the poor angsthaas, him and his goodness.” she teased without thought, her brothers were just simple, they followed their set routines without care for the world that might go on around them. it was nice, to be home and forever know the small routines. 

“decaf?” she wrinkled her nose although she didn’t dissuade him from his choice. comfort, routine, something of the kind. “are you sure? that sounds just terrible for the morning.” then again, she was always sure to drink her coffee weak so that she could not get addicted, but to keep it away at all was a step too far. perhaps it was the step of age. “it is not early if everyone is already up!” she deflected the question as if it were obvious that she might be awake simply because it suited her lifestyle in rotterdam to have been moving at this time. “you are cleaning, tomas is running around! what am i to do, lay in bed and wait for the sun?”

No one ever wanted to do the weekly deep cleaning in the kitchen. Papa would wake Skylar up in the middle of the night, drag him downstairs when he was still rubbing sand from his eyes. All he wanted was ten more minutes, enough time to pretend it was a lifetime, but he was always going to be the one to take over the family business. It was his predetermined destiny, written in his blood. It would remain his responsibility, the torch to carry, and even now the eldest boy of the family was on his hands and knees, scrubbing out the cabinets, grown to accept the wake up call that his mind did all on its own from years of practice.

The flour sacks were on the counter above. Every single one of them was from the spot where the bristles of the brush were scouring, even the ones shoved in the back for no one to find, the ones that were just a little heavier and not as malleable. 10,993 dollars, and somewhere rolling in the bottom of one was seventy-four cents. He counted once, and then broke one of the hundreds to buy a new whisk before Tomas won Masterchef. All of that for nothing when the answer was here all along.

BANG

“Pleurislijer!” Who was here? Whose footsteps were those? His hand rubbed at the top of his wounded head, eyes rounding at the visitor. “You saw me here and didn’t say behind!” His forehead creased, a weird concern that fought his words before he went on, tone adjusting. “What’s the big idea?”

“didn’t say behind! you’re not baking!” ade had come down from the family quarters to the kitchen, hoping to bypass the entirety of cleaning day in favor of turning the espresso machine on early and sitting in the cafe. it was the leftovers of a rotterdam sleep schedule, that she was now an early riser in los angeles. there was simply no point in adjusting when she was going to fly back next week, or perhaps the week after. she was supposed to meet with an investor for a new branch of the visser table. not a chain, but another call to home. the vissers in rotterdam, in los angeles, and one day paris if the momentum continued. aleid was convinced that it was the direction to go, and the kitchen only needed one of them to stay. when it was time for a new tasting menu ade would switch and leave aleid to the negotiations. until then, she was back under her brother’s roof. 

“language like that! in our parent’s kitchen.” but she laughed, she knew of all of the siblings, it had always been isa with the mouth, and she was quick to follow. skylar was only startled and scared. oh where had he gone so wrong. “ tu es très chanceux i love you. i won’t tell tomas.” as if it were some conspiracy between them. she couldn’t have cared less about the cleaning he was trying to do, so long as she wasn’t suddenly going to be involved. “wil je koffie? i’m going to start the drip for the day if you don’t mind!”

His face soured immediately at the mention of Jade, “she’s not my friend.” He had no idea what she was to him or him to her, an annoyance, probably. Somehow the idea of Ade and Jade being friends irked him almost more than the idea of Jade trying to get it on with Skylar, just to piss him off. This woman is giving him a headache. “How do you know Jade?”

Now the idea of his sister and kitten being friends was just mild, Appel meowing and jumping off from Tomas’ grasped to rub against Ade’s legs, having started to learn to really respond to her name. He sighed and let her go, “you can be her friend if you remember to actually feed her next time.” Cat sitting involved more than just playing with the cats until she gets bored and forget. “I didn’t say go give him coffee now, now did I? That was like, 2am.” The director could probably use all the sleep he could get, if he was even actually sleeping. “Of course I worry! I wasn’t doing something right and- and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“how do i know jade? she’s a customer!” she chided as though it were some failing to not recognize the visitors to the cafe. though perhaps her run ins with jade were more serendipitous, it never crossed her mind to give tomas an easy out. “i try very hard to remember regulars.” a hallmark of good customer service as he ought to know, though perhaps regular was too frequent for what jade’s visits actually amounted to. she remembered the interesting when it came down to it. and tomas’s friend was interesting. the daily routine of a cat less so. “we’ll have a superb dinner, won’t we?” she pet the kitten absent-mindedly. as though it were enough to assuage his worries that she remembered appel now. 

“tomas, it was hardly two am. and he answered the door!” always so dramatic, trying to make it seem like she was the villain of the situation. she didn’t think there needed to be a right and wrong, he was simply a rude man. they did exist. “did you think to ask for direction? or did you lock up again! you must ask for help, stop pretending like you don’t need it.” he was always the same, trying to pretend like he was on the same level as those he was working with. she’d certainly never shy away from asking for an explanation if she needed one. but she chosen jobs that she knew she would succeed at. her brother had not. “suppose you could not solve it all with the coffee. your man is still a night owl hoe dan ook.” or an early bird, depending on whether she would make the concession to the hour. “you might catch him when the filming is done.”

“ouch zusje,” his expression was half-joking half-hurt as the tiny insult. He wasn’t even sure what she was saying he was useless at, helping her with her dress or just in general. Both probably hurt. The little familiar sting that goes way back. “Only if you think I’m not that useless to help you with it, I’d love to see your options,” he always was that person everyone in the family talked to, or talked at. And for something as minor and non-draining as dresses, he’d be happy to partake for Ade. The soft spot hit figuring this would’ve usually been Aleid’s spot. 

The invitation was put aside, sticking onto the fridge as a reminder like it was simply a grocery list, as long as it was away from the kitten’s paws. “Well- you weren’t always available, I can’t make you take care of her every day,” Tomas rationalised as that and it was mostly true, but it was also coming back home a few times to an empty bowl and a whiny hungry kitten. “Why were you even bothering him so early?” Tomas was pretty sure he’d caution her enough about Julian, but whether he heard any of it was up to her, “director, he helped direct the remaining of boy venus. Terrifying experience, wouldn’t recommend it.” Despite the negative review, they were still said with a small smile.

“well you’re supposed to know more than skylar, so you will do.” her options were limited as far as that went, the family was not known for style. and if nothing else, she thought someone walking into the cafe would have an opinion. “maybe your friend jade will know better.” she shrugged, giving earnest consideration to the thought, though she had no way of reaching out to the blonde. 

“we are friends, are we not appel!” she smiled, looking down at the kitten as though she were actually expecting some response other than a soft meow. but still, friends were not the same as pet and owner, and so there was no protest from her at some of the responsibilities going to another. “i made coffee! you said, ade the man likes coffee! apparently he likes sleep more.” the event was relayed with the same good nature as everything else. she didn’t see it as a slight on herself, simply some string of events that she’d likely had no contribution in. people upset themselves for far smaller reasons. “a director! how does he communicate like that. of course you angsthaas, you would not like it!” the directness worked just fine for her, but her brother was always of the softer nature. “he says one strict thing and you must worry!”

full name: vera adelaide visser, ade

birthday: august 15th

age: 25

zodiac sign: leo

religion: agnostic 

religious level (1-10): 3; has decided to err on the side of caution since she has other things to deal with

birthplace: rotterdam, netherlands

current residence: rotterdam, netherlands

height: 5′6

hair color: blonde

eye color: blue

sexuality: bisexual

romantic preference: biromantic

relationship status: engaged

languages known: english, french, swedish, dutch, german, japanese, spanish

DETAILS—

car: 2019 aston martin rapide

phone: samsung galaxy s20+

music genres: she just lets pandora shuffle

wardrobe: wool sweaters, tailored jeans, leather boots, chef’s coat

estimated net worth: $6 million

ransom value: 50% ownership of the visser table 

CONNECTIONS—

francisca de visser, mother

markus de visser, father

isa de visser, older sister

skylar de visser, older brother

tomas de visser, middle brother

aleid de visser, twin

oliver moreau, fiancee

micah bates, friend

juno benson, friend

julian santiago, friend

jade bellamy, friend

LEVELS (1-10)—

drinking: 4

swearing: 4; typically when in the kitchen

smoking status: 2; only the meat aha!

drugs: 0; no thank you

cooking proficiency: 10, she has a michelin star guys 

intelligence: 7; over all yeah, but she lacks in big ways

emotional/social intelligence: 3; she’s busy

creativity: 8; when it comes to dishes at least

“I’m not going to be a diva, and Skylar certainly doesn’t like going to these things,” he may have pushed for Tomas to go into Prometheus and helped him with a lot along the way, but the family and its bakery was all that was important to him. Perhaps the most grounded to his roots compared to the rest of his flighty siblings. But Ade on the other hand, she seemed happy, he couldn’t say no. At least one of the Vissers would be overly excited and lovable at the carpet. “Did you even bring any fancy wear back from Rotterdam or did you use this as an excuse to shop?” Tomas narrowed his gaze at her before picking up the piece of paper himself to give it a proper read. It was so soon, the team really did work very fast.

Appel was already attempting to eat the invitation as Tomas held it high up away from her to read, “yeah– Julian. Oh, probably on set.. There were quite a few days Juno couldn’t cat sit, and no one was home here so..” he shrugged, she did seem to calm down her energy after a few times with Julian. “Did he really slam a door at you?” Tomas asked, more amused than anything else really.

“oh i brought some, but it’s so hard to decide!” she wondered if there were many shops who would carry the dress she wanted at such a short notice. then again, she had some connections in los angeles now. people reaching out for her opinion and wanting to know her future. they might have a dress. “and you’re inutile.” there was no harshness in the statement. ade said it was the fact that it was, he refused to tell anything about the premiere and so they were at the standstill as far as wardrobe was concerned. “perhaps i’ll get my computer, show you the zoeken! or surfing!” but she made no motion towards the door, she was simply there to take up time and space. 

“you certainly didn’t ask.” well, perhaps he had, she didn’t know how to gauge what tomas asked of her. “she doesn’t bother me any if she’d like to stay!” then again, she had the tendency to treat appel more as some kind of benign friend. she didn’t notice the daily ins and outs of taking care of a pet, unless so reminded by a frantic text. “perhaps he would have preferred to sleep! it was early.” she couldn’t remember much of the encounter, just as it had stood out as one of the few unfriendly ones here. she could make excuses for all kinds still—tomas never picked the best as his friends. “he’s a writer, yes?”

Just one more left! Micah had popped open the face of the robotic rat, shifted the small, beady cameras for eyes back into place after its check-up had been completed. The idea had been an update to upload the dance sequences to Ratatouille 2.0, but why stop there! “Dancing! What a piece of cake! Ha! Gave this a real think or two for ya. We’ll give it a whirl and I’ll show you what it’s all about! Hope you get a real kick out of it. Hours of entertainment! Guaranteed!”

The face clicked back into place, as Micah tipped his glasses up over his head, no longer needing a magnified vision to take in the sight of the mile-high foam of cream. “Boy, oh, boy!” he beamed in gratitude as he took hold of the cup. “Thanks a whole bunch for this. Really hits the spot! Tastes like nostalgia in a cup!” It was impossible not to have it mark his nose from the drink, a trickle of cocoa in and a small dollop of broken marshmallow down the gullet before setting it down. “Sure! Can’t say no to learning from the greatest! Wouldn’t mind learning the Jitterbug! Can’t beat the ol’ ragtime, ammiright?”

"i would have laced some chocolate for you but—” she took a towel off the counter and wiped the whipped cream off his nose, the moment’s imperfection gone from her mind. “it would have had to cool.” and she was fairly certain her strange friend would not have appreciated the effort all the same. she wasn’t sure what made americans want to cling to their past so much, she was personally unconvinced that it was impressive. but, perhaps for a dessert she could temper some design. she never was sure when tomas’s friend was going to come by with a new toy. 

“a jitterbug! that sounds like i’ve had too much espresso.” she laughed, as though he had presented some joke that she was trying to understand. she was thoughtless, she only imitated what she saw on that little app when there was down time. “certainly not a dance i know!” though if it was some older pattern, she had little chance of knowing it. her childhood was spent cooking, her young adulthood cooking. she could speak to a great number of cultural classics, but never outside of the culinary arts. “you may have to teach me your jittering.”

“I mean– I guess there was Hairspray.. but I’m not- some l’etoilé.” that barely counted, he was there for the screening - a professional obligation, hung as far back as he could along the red carpet and snuck past it all with maybe just one interview with Juno. He squinted tiredly at the card - pretty and luxurious, definitely feeling out of place seeing his name on it, “yeah- that’s my name alright, I don’t know how many I’m allowed to bring..” he sighed leaning back against the island, nodding his chin for her to check the terms on guests. They had at least a plus one but he was just gonna go with Juno, and tugging Ade further into Prometheus mess just didn’t seem like a good idea.

But off she went, already discussing dresses, and the excitement brewing off her was hard to dismiss away. As long as she wanted it, it was hard to deny. “I guess cream would be a nice touch with the theme,” cream, silk, a dash of purity spilled over the blood of red rolled across the floor. He clicked his tongue, calling for Appel just to say hi, “does she? Julian’s been teaching her I think..” Scooping the kitten into a hand, he added, her enthusiasm too draining to say no, “and I still have that suit from the Hairspray premiere, I guess that’ll work.”

she looked at the invitation again—perhaps it did say tomas. she’d only read visser and assumed the best. a night out was what they all needed. “you should be a diva—bring as many as you like! skylar will be free.” she set the invitation on the counter, secure in the notion that even if it was plus one, she would be going. it was the whole point of los angeles. “there’s the spirit! though i’m no boy venus, it would be fun. dress up for the night!” play at being such statues, frozen in beautiful time. she was sure the concept fit.

“julian?” his answer caught her off guard. the name conjured the vague recollection of someone tomas had mentioned before. though no one that she saw as particularly friendly, certainly no one that saw appel more than she did. nanny she was not, but it seemed that every time she turned there was a cat underfoot, why should it not be the closest friend she’s made on her vacation. the tiny kitten tomas was holding. “when does he spend time with her? he’s too busy slamming doors, to be sure.” 

Prometheus certainly wasn’t kind, with all the season of projects wrapping up, most contracts got to have a lil break, prep for the next season, schmooze their way into another project. And Tomas had to go back to quickly finish up the cooking show that had been on pause since boy venus started shooting. It had to go up with the rest of the summer season, so there was just no time for a break. Two more weeks, of non stop shooting and he could take that break, to just spend time with friends, with Juno, with the bakery.

Tomas went straight up to their home, foregoing the bakery seeing that Ade that starting proofing, or well, proofing halfway. He was just so tired, all he wanted was a shower, some food, and sleep. The irony of being hungry having cooked all day. But Ade comes announcing her presence the moment he started rummaging the fridge, hearing her even behind her closed door. “Premiere?” Tomas softly repeated, mind still frazzled as he tried to make sense, “oh- did the invitation come in for boy venus? I don’t know.. I haven’t really been to one before either,” not this up front, he limply shrugged, sluggishly shuffled around, pouring himself some orange juice.

“you haven’t? tomas! you’re supposed to be l’etoilé!” so much for her grand hollywood ideals, she was speaking to the wrong person. if he was low on energy she didn’t take note, generating enough energy for everyone in the room. unspent, building as she didn’t have anything else to focus on. the bakery posed little challenge to someone who managed the kitchen she normally did. so, even if he was poised to ignore her, she went right along with her own line of inquiry. “this invitation certainly says visser, please say we’ll go!” 

though none of the dresses she had laid out on her bed had jumped out as being appropriate for a night out, she’d hoped her brother might have some more input. “appel has no comment on the situation, i think i should wear something cream.” she’d thought of all those old statues, their shining marble, and that was all it took to send her running with the idea. “perhaps i should tell her crema! your kitten speaks spanish tomas.”

she’d found the bakery schedule to be somewhat mundane. and as it was skylar’s law, none of the recipes were meant to be experimented with, the family classics done exactly the same, and sold to exactly the same. it left her with more free time as she got the routine down. and while she used some of that to work on a fall tasting menu for the table—the first inkling that she might return to rotterdam, some of it she spent simply scrolling through her phone. 

it turned out dancing was not so far from following a recipe. and the ones that were up for repetition on tik tok were easy enough to practice. she pushed a hot mug piled high with whipped cream towards micah, looking at the device he had opened on the countertop that was supposed to be used for rolling out dough  “do you think it will really dance?” she humored him, certain that she had the hour to give away no matter the results. “i could always teach you.”

she’d been invited to the premiere of boy venus, a movie that she only knew in the peripheries because it was where tomas went every morning. still, the invitation had been so nice, beautiful cream with gold inlay, how could she resist. it was the reasons she’d come to hollywood after all, to live a bit of show business. she’d laid out the few dresses she’d brought with her on her bed, but there was no sounding board for her at the moment. but that moment passed quickly.

“tomas!” she heard, shuffling in the kitchen, which could only be one tired chef, home finally. she threw open the door, holding it just long enough for appel to slip by her and run into the room as well, she held out the invitation as if he could see its details, the excitement on her face supposedly enough to get her message across. “what do you wear to a premiere? i’ve never been!”

“I can’t even imagine you trying to be overly serious,” over him nonetheless. Tomas wasn’t sure if he’s ever seen Ade even remotely serious outside of the kitchen. “Be nice to him, please?” Tomas warned, or more likely pleaded. Knowing he’s told Juno about his family without any filter on but with a lot of alcohol and a lot of complaints, may not exactly be the best non biased first impression. But her little comment made him stop his work and look up to her, “what do you mean..?” Was he.. missing something? Did Juno confide in her about something? The worry visibly growing on his face. “no, I don’t- think so,” Tomas thought he’s come to know Juno pretty well.

“tomas! no one knows anyone as well as they like.”  she above all. given all the siblings, she was the one who’d been in a relationship the longest. even if was paused. the worry that bloomed across his face was enough to elicit a sympathetic smile from her. should she be tender or honest, should she be the one giving advice at all. “you can’t presume.” even given years with a person, there was a tendency to blindside. she was only delivering the truth, he could not fault her for that. 

“be nice to him.” she laughed at his words, unable to ever take tomas completely seriously. she couldn’t imagine being mean to a person “i am nice!” the soul of agreeability. carrying on conversations with the myriad of people that this city procured. “shouldn’t i want to be protective of my brother?” 

“It really isn’t like us yeah,” truth be told Tomas has never overslept in his life. The house was usually too noisy to sleep and it was just exciting to wake up everyday in Paris. The habit was ingrained in them and it felt like he just committed a huge crime - which to be fair he kinda did. Yet it definitely had nothing to do with Juno, more like he probably saved Tomas from not even showing up this morning. “He is really nice, and.. I’m sure he isn’t,” anymore. He wholehearted believed in their promises, even from before they got together, and day by day he could tell, and he was so proud of his liefje. Tomas scored the loaves holding his hand down to make sure it didn’t shake while he did the delicate work, his own scoring signature, “I’m surprised he was serious, he usually isn’t.”

“he certainly was. i should have been the serious one! you are my brother.” but she laughed, she couldn’t really mean that. she didn’t need to interrogate the people that tomas decided to spend time with, she should have been lucky to see that he was able to do it on his own. a boyfriend was of course a step in the right direction, and who was she to take that away. certainly she had no advice to give. “i can handle him! don’t you worry.” even if he was only nice to tomas, perhaps that meant something. love was forever a mystery to her. “although perhaps you know him less than you thought.”

“I mean-” Tomas huffed in annoyance, this was partially why they weren’t ever very good at communicating with each other, “never mind.” He came back over to Ade, leaving her bread and butter on the table in front of her, “yes.. you are, and you should, take as long as you need.” He glanced around their childhood home, hectic shophouse, living on the second floor with the bakery on the first, how did they fit seven people in here? “Nothing’s really changed around here..” other than the people and the mood. But physically, it was like nothing had been touched. He gave in to a small chuckled sitting down beside her, “my movie studios? Don’t get your hopes up so high,” he’s been on many but rarely to act, “I could definitely show you the test kitchen set though, now that is at least kinda mine.”

“a test kitchen!” she had no idea what it really meant, but the thought of a pristine kitchen kept up for television was rather nice. at least it showed that there was room for growth in the food network. she couldn’t imagine doing anything except a show. she only ever wanted to cook. “i would love to see it.” perhaps the first genuine thing she’d said, even if the reasoning behind it was self serving. “i’ll work around your schedule i suppose! i’m the visitor!”

“Yeah I did,” miss may be a bit of an overstatement but sure, he missed what he knew, the hectic family, the yelling over one another, his baby sisters fighting. “Double our productivity, he won’t even see it,” he wasn’t sure if Skylar could see past his stubbornness bit what a life saver it would be, to have that extra pair of hands. He gave her a tired smile though, waving dismissively as he cut through her words with the quiet resilience, “I’ll make it work.” He had to. He’d go crazy if he couldn’t bake outside of Prometheus again.

“i’m sure you will.” but there’s a note of disbelief in her voice. as if she was okay with the theory but had yet to see execution. she did want to believe in tomas, hoped that he could find success in the new path he chose. but to assume both would work? well, not even she could juggle both. “well, i will pick up the slack for the time being. a thank you for the room.” although it was hers through and through the thought was still nice. her gesture of home. “and don’t you worry. he won’t be able to ignore me.”

“You had one offered to you? What for?” Huh. So Prometheus was just handing contracts out to everyone just to see what would stick, she guessed. It had been a slow cancellation season, though. In retrospect, it made sense. It never ceased to tick Jade off underneath whenever she was asked about being an actress. She had thought she had made her mark enough for it to be taken as given, for her name to be /known/ without being asked for it. Despite the scrunch of her lips, she forced them to smooth out as she took the matcha, stabbing one of the short straws in the middle of her design. “Depends. What do they all say?” she questioned with a raise of the brow before letting the straw empty out against her tongue, taking its temperature as much as its taste. Neither were bad. “Being a contract has its perks. I like it. Some don’t. That’s on them, though. Your brother is one of those people, by the way. If you take it, do me a favor and don’t form a duet on how everything sucks for you two.–Haven’t you asked him what it’s like?”

“he is so negative about it.” she nodded her head sympathetically, as if it was some kind of revelation. every time she brought up the topic of her own contract he lashed out, which could have been a symptom of anything. she chose to believe it was only the stress of the work. she did wonder how he ended up working on films, it was so far from what their parents had always pushed for. “it’s the only voice i’ve heard! i shouldn’t form my opinion just on his, that would be awfully rash.” though she did love him, she often preferred a second set of eyes. she used to rely on aleid’s. now she would take what she could get. “i think there must be a difference between cinema and television though. which are you?”