Milou van de Ven

Name: Milou van de Ven Age and date of birth: 38 years old, November 21st 1982 Preferred pronouns & gender: she/her, cis-female Occupation: Professional Dancer Place of birth: Nijmegen, The Netherlands Neighbourhood: Paddington Length of residency in Brisbane: 5 months Faceclaim: Nicole Beharie

Below a small introduction of the character, some headcanons, and wanted connections!

“What, like ballet?” It was the dancing she was most familiar with, but Fernanda didn’t grow up dancing. But she could see this woman doing it. At the question she brightens up just a bit - something she could definitely talk about. “Yeah, I got a bike. What do you ride?” She asks curiously, leaning forward just a bit in interest. “It’s just something you got to play around with; nothing special.” She shrugs casually, though the compliment is appreciated.

After ordering the same drink as the person next to him, Chidi smiled. “I won’t go against what you just said, I’ll just fully believe you know your strengths,” if he was to have a different point of view about it, Chidi would mostly keep it to himself. It didn’t take long, until the drink was right in front of him, and after taking a sip, though he noticed that it was sweeter than what he was used to, it wasn’t bad. “I guess, you’re right. It isn’t as good as my favorite choice of drink, but it can be a good option whenever I need something sweet. Tell you what, it’ll remind me of you… though I need a name to help me create this memory.”

Milou offered a grin, sipping her own drink and pointing a finger in his direction. “Smooth, very smooth. I like that though, to be a reminder to someone through a drink.” She leaned her chin on her hand, as she stared at him through thick lashes. “Milou van de Ven, don’t bother on pronouncing that last name, mind you, my name is a French and Dutch hybrid but my parents thought a name like that might make me world famous. My sister is called Cecilia, which to this day my mom will tell anyone who wants to hear: is French. I looked it up, it’s Latin. And yours? Tell me quickly before I start rambling again.”

Fernanda doesn’t hate it, but she didn’t stay here for so long for no reason - she has to agree with Caroline on her reasons to enjoy the country. “What’s your dream?” She realizes it’s probably deeper than saying “I want to be a firefighter,” or anything along those lines. At the question she’s quiet, sipping from her coffee; obviously she can’t talk about her preferred work. That scares new people off most of the time. “I work on cars. I have a shop in Bulimba.” She explains, fingers mindlessly spinning the coffee in her hands on the table. 

“Maybe, but you make it pretty tempting to just remain here.  Get to bask in the glory of Milou herself, innit,”  Tommy bantered back, but he really did enjoy Milou’s brand of confidence.  It seemed she had no small amount; and it felt like sunshine, warm and enjoyable.   “Honestly I’m surprised you came to Brisbane and not, oh I dunno.  Somewhere like New York, or Hollywood.  Catch fame and fortune with that star quality of yours, luv.”

Milou took his question in stride, giving it a serious ponder.  When she gave her answer, Tommy made an ‘ahhh’ sound.  “Our girl knows how to graft - not just to learn dancing but convincing mum and dad, too. I’m bloody impressed yeah.  Is there anything she can’t do?”

Tommy puffed out his cheeks, making an ‘ooof’ sound as she outlined the ages of the kids.  “Them little ones are even worse.  They got no filter.  But right - a deal is a deal and I never break my promises.  Well - not to charming lot like you, anyway.”  Tommy winked at Milou and continued.  “Kids either think I’m fab or they want to clock me.  There’s no middle ground, for me.”

To Tommy, what Milou described did sound posh; at least, it sounded like something only privileged kids could afford.  But his limited understanding of politics made him assume the Netherlands was like a socialist haven, an innovative education system open to all.  So he hummed at the idea of slacking off and making art, chaotic bliss of learning and growth.  “Does sound grand, yeah.  But hopefully not the best years of your life, high school.”

It was sweet of her, to say it was okay to be sad about his mum.  He knew he was sad, but Tommy never quite knew what he was sad about.  “Don’t get me wrong, me and my old man - we carried on after she left, yeah.   I’m fine…”  Tommy grinned and shook his head.  “Dunno about amazing…maybe if dad shipped me to the Netherlands and I got to do art school, then I’d be amazing.”

The adrenalin rush of the ride was completely harmless and, Tommy had no qualms about lining up for the ride again.  This time Tommy whooped and laughed through it, relishing Milou’s enjoyment until it was over.  Still, he said,  “One more time for the road, then?”

“I do charge,” she informed Tommy with a grin. “One drink an hour, except after four hours in a row, it’s one drink and a snack.” She bit her lip a little when he mentioned all the other places she could’ve gone to. She knew it would’ve been possible, she might’ve even settled their easily, but the problem was always in how far her ex-boyfriend’s arm could reach. And Brisbane it could not. “Oh well, honestly, I think I like being small-time famous, rather than big-time famous. More freedom, less people recognising me on the street.” 

“Hmmm,” Milou pretended to really think on the question, whether there was anything she couldn't do. There were lots, but doubting herself was reserved for alone time. “No, I think I can do anything I set my mind to. It wasn’t too hard to convince my parents, my dad always wanted to be a professional dancer, and my mom was so elegant you would think she had been.” 

“What? I love that about kids, I love people who have absolutely no filter!” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Smart man, you don’t want to break your promises to me, I hold grudges like no other. And I am sure I can convince the kids to not clock you, who knows, maybe my coolness will rub off on you.” 

“College,” she corrected him, then shrugged. “I don’t believe in the best years of one’s life. Every year should be the best year, for different reasons. If not, I will make it the best year of my life. It was amazing though, I had a lot of fun.” 

Milou softened her gaze for a moment, taking his hand lightly. “Wouldn’t have believed otherwise,” she offered, but noted how he turned it around into a joke. It spoke book parts, as the saying went in the Netherlands. “Absolutely, but I can deal with this real version of you, though I do wonder what would’ve become of you if you studied art.” 

Milou scoffed, giddy as she headed for the ride. “One more? Pfft. fine, fine, I’ll settle for one more round.” 

“Ah, shoot!” Aisha was mostly teasing, but the grin was there to offer that they knew she was right. Not all of their friendships had been great throughout the time they were growing old, however Aisha was the only one to see which one of those were worth sticking around and which ones were mostly trouble. “Isn’t that sort of the plot of Teen Wolf? Not the series, that old movie. Look at me calling that movie old when I think it’s from the eighties just like, well, just like me. Or maybe they are werewolves all of their life. I don’t fully remember the plot of that movie. Anyway… there’s a high chance werewolves are based on teenagers, it makes sense.” Chuckling, she nodded. “Oh, I didn’t know that. Well, I’m sure she was one hell of a great mom, now that I know how hard it is going through parenthood, I respect those who want to raise children even more. And thank you, as someone who had sort of way worse, I’m glad to be a nice role model to them.”

“1985,” Milou said with a wink. “I mean, it’s old in the sense that we’re older now,” she offered. “But it still holds up, if you think away all the bad effects.” She knew that movie by heart, for several reasons: one being a fan of Michael J Fox because of Back to the Future, another because it was such a fun movie. It didn’t try to be overly dramatic, and her parents had allowed her and her sister to watch it for that reason alone. “They were bitten yes, but I think the movie did try to make that point that teenagers are much like werewolves.” 

GENERAL

I am a cuddler | I am a morning person | I am an only child | I am currently pregnant | I am left handed | I am a little shy around someone I have a crush | I bite my nails | I can be paranoid at times | I enjoy country music | I enjoy smoothies | I enjoy talking on the phone | I have a car | I have/had a hard time paying attention at something else for too long | I have a hidden talent | I have a pet | I have a tendency to fall for the “wrong” person | I have my family’s support | I have been to another country | I have or had broken a bone | I have bathed someone | I have changed a diaper | I have changed a lot over the past year | I have had major/minor surgery | I have mood swings | I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life | I have rejected someone before | I was born in a country other than Australia | I work at a job that I enjoy |  I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free |  I consume at least one alcoholic drink every month

I LOVE/I HATE

I love series more than movies | I love sleeping | I love to shop | I love fashion | I love reading books as a hobby | I strongly dislike math | I love to paint/draw/sketch/sculpt | I love to go out for drinks by myself or with friends | I love watching the sunset | I hate noisy people | I dislike being social | I love having a small group of friends | I love animals | I hate my family | I dislike my boss/job | I’d love to travel the world | I love taking pictures | I love the beach | I hate waking up early | I hate waking up late | I love to exercise

I HAVE/HAD

Graduated high school or college | Kissed someone | Smoked cigarettes | Rode every ride at an amusement park | Collected something really stupid | Gone to a concert | Helped someone | Spun turn tables | Watched four movies in one night | Been dumped | Been in a car accident | Been in a tornado | Watched someone die | Been to a funeral | Burned yourself | Ran a marathon | Your parents got divorced | Cried yourself to sleep | Spent over $200 in one day | Cheated on someone | Been cheated on | Written a 10 page letter | Had a best friend | Lost someone you loved | Got in trouble for something you didn’t do | Stolen books from the library | Gambled in a casino | Had a yard sale | And a lemonade stand | Been fired from a job | Taken a lie detector test | Swam with dolphins | Written poetry | Read more than 20 books a year | Gone to Europe | Loved someone you couldn’t have | Used a coloring book over age 12 | Gone surfing | Dyed your hair | Had something pierced | Got straight A’s | Your parents sent you to a shrink | Been handcuffed

HAIR COLOR

Light brown | Medium brown | Dark brown | Blonde | Black | Dirty blonde | Strawberry blonde | Purple | Pink | Blue | Other

EYES

“Uh…no thanks,” he refused immediately, upon knowing Milou’s penchant for overly sweet caffeinated beverages. “I already have my drink over there,” with his chin Zuberi gestured to where his travel mug and iPad occupied the table. “I’m just waiting on a few pastries I ordered.” Zuberi prefers less sugar and more rich and bitter coffee flavour. “Besides, knowing that’s probably pure sugar in that cup,” he teased. The Chef needed a pick-me-up as he didn’t get enough sleep last night. “I want to be alert and not crashing from a sugar high later on this evening,” he chuckled. “You’re welcome to join me though, I’ve got a free chair at my table.” 

There was something highly contagious about being in Milou’s presence, and Sara guessed that was the reason behind wanting to spend so much time around the older woman. While she wasn’t thinking much of this so-called lady date, Sara was also looking forward to having some fun with Milou. It sounded much better than being at home, doing absolutely nothing.

Sara found herself waiting in line to place her order, and while she was there, she checked her phone, sent a couple of texts, then returned to the table to find Milou waiting for her.

“Here you go. A slice of banana bread for you and a lemon loaf for me. How’s work, by the way?” 

“The weather is probably least of your concerns,” Fernanda assures her, and she slides the jacket that hugs her coffee up and down in distraction. She wasn’t very good at talking to new people, so she was a bit out of her element. “You like it here so far?” Little snippets of conversations she’s heard on tv, how to interact with people, make herself more approachable - but she was just her, so she wasn’t sure how to fix it. “I’ve lived in worse places,” she adds as an afterthought. 

“Do you think I should be worried about what kind of friends he’s making at college? The only phase I went through with the twins was back in high school when I was still too young and they weren’t a fan of myself trying to be close to their friends, but other than that we were good, I guess… teenagers are weird.” In fact, children were weird. Aisha was still trying to understand them, but they were sure time would pass by and they would never be able to decipher Aaliyah and Brian. Toni was easier, way easier.  “And, listen, your mom was amazing. I could learn a thing or two. You know the one thing that I discovered the moment I became a parent? It’s that we’re not perfect, I had this image that my husband’s mom was perfect in every way but oh, how many mistakes we make while raising another being.”

“I guess it’ll be a surprise then once the waiter finally brings us your order. It’s mostly because I’m thinking about ordering some fries and I was wondering if you’d like to share?”

Tommy regarded Milou for a moment, then gave a long, highly amused and scoffing snort.  “You’re taking the mick.  You’re bloody good at it too - you almost had me believing you!  I was literally about to book a flight to them Netherlands ,just to see this Milou Dining Hall, I was.”  

So caught up in the artistic fantasy of being ‘a dancer’, Tommy hadn’t considered the risks until Milou brought it up.  And of course.  Of course injury would be a possibility, a career-ender.  It was like sports, in that way.  “Is it luck, or talent?”  Tommy asked, then grinned.  “That’s a trick question.  If you say ‘luck’, then it implies your success is through kismet and not hard work.  If you say talent, it implies your dancer-mates are all worse than you, egotistic innit.  So which is it, luv.”

She was so modest though, Tommy had to cut her a break. “Honest though - it’s inspiring, to hear you talk about dancing.”

Milou didn’t hesitate at the bet - and her wager was both surprising and strangely pleasing.  “Bloody hell - you teach dance as well?  I’m not dancing in front of no teenagers.  Youths can be vicious, man.”

Quietly, he repeated the location:  Noord Brabant, and listened as Milou continued.  “No fancy posh dance college, then?” Tommy pressed his lips together though, when she inquired about his mum.  She was too easy to chat with, that was the problem.  It had slipped out and she was keen and interested enough to follow-up.  Tommy gave Milou a brief, tight smile. 

“Erm, we - I mean, she split, ages ago.  When I was still a youth.  Left me and - and my dad.”  And their grief, and the ghost of Tommy’s sister.  But Tommy just shrugged.  “S’alright, ages ago, yeah. I turned out alright, didn’t I.”  He nudged Milou’s arm, trying to lighten the mood.  “Say that I did, or I’ll cry over mummy and this’ll all get right awkward.”

Fortunately, the ride bypassed any need for further conversation, at least for the next minute or so.  It did live up to the name ‘Hurricane’, Tommy half-laughing and raising his hands as Milou excitedly screamed her way through the turns and drops and spins.

When it was over, Tommy stumbled out, offering Milou a hand to help her as well.  “I’m almost tempted to have another go!”

“It would be worth the flight,” she said, winking, not actually stating that there was no Milou dining hall. There should be though, she had given that place her all. And it would be kind of funny, the type of fun Milou liked to inspire. 

“Hmmm,” she said, liking the trick question even if he already continued on it. Kismet, she liked that, she had no idea what it meant, but she liked it. Still, he ended with the question still there, and she narrowed her eyes in mischief. “It’s hard work,” she answered. “Hard work, passion, and a healthy dose of convincing my parents to drive me across the country for practices,” she said with a nod. Talent was one thing, sure, but Milou also believed that drive was a huge part of it. 

Milou grinned. “Maybe I love talking about dancing a little too much, not as much as actual dancing though,” she added. 

Laughing, she gave him a light pet to the shoulder. “No, no, they’re not teenagers, they’re like…. Eight, seven, maybe six. Young.” And then she brightened slightly. “Only on occasion, but yes.” 

Milou shook her head. “No, noooo, listen, art school in the Netherlands… well, lets say most people there would be sitting in the park smoking weed every day during break, throw together some cool piece of art, and then nope out. Honestly, the biggest hipsters you’ll ever see. I freaking loved it, everyone was so weird and different and had such weird fashion styles. We had the art teachers, the modern art kids, the dancers - aka me -, the Rock academy, the more classical music. It was a constant chaos of different art forms, it simply couldn’t be posh,” she explained. 

Milou’s smile faded a bit, she took Tommy’s hand in her own and gave it a slight squeeze. “Nah, you turned out alright, still… it’s okay to still be sad about it. Growing up without one parent present, no matter how good the other might be, it sucks. You’re an amazing person, whether despite or because, that doesn’t matter.” 

“I’m still not sure if you’re having me on, or if I should believe you.  An office, indeed.”  he kept teasing her, even though it hardly really mattered.  They were years away from the memories.  At least, Tommy had guessed Milou was in her 30′s; he hoped she was.

Then again, they were just friends.   So her age too, didn’t really matter.

It was adorable when she imitated his dance, so natural that he gave a grunt of approval.  “Yeah, that’s right.  Bollywood moves, man,” he enthused.  “It honestly sounds like a dream though, getting to do your passion.  Professional dance.  Brilliant, yeah.”

He grinned when Milou giggled unbidden; and Tommy almost threw his arm around her shoulders then, but refrained.  Too much sustained intimacy always led to trouble, ruin their good time.

“Right, we’ll put a wager and everything.  If you lose a darts, you have to let me take you for a night at my mate’s club, I want to see you clear a dancefloor.  And if I lose…well, I’ll leave that up to you, yeah?”

He listened with interest at the differentiation of Holland and the Netherlands.  “I was bollocks at geography myself, totally understandable.  So I take you you did not live in Holland region,” he grinned, at her judgement.  “Pakistan, yeah. Chennai’s in India, but mum’s Muslim. Was Muslim…erm. Maybe still is.”  He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to talk about it.  So he quickly switched back to Milou.  “Oi, Jamaican!  Yeah Sheffield’s got all sorts of Caribbean, innit.  I was mates with yardies, right good blokes.  And them gyals?  Bloody -”

But he didn’t get to finish his silly lad opinion, because the Hurricane lived up to its name, and plunged them downwards, as the riders screeched in delighted terror.

“Oh, I never kid about my own genius,” she informed him with a smirk. “Obviously when I tell you I am the best modern dancer in the world, you have to believe me. Also I drove a Maserati to school, and they named the cafeteria after me when I graduated.” Milou gave him a smile and continued walking.

Bollywood moves, she needed to look it up, maybe see if he knew some more moves. Do a whole routine. The prospect already filled her with longing. She couldn’t wait to dance. To learn something new, to move.

“I am very lucky,” she told him. “Not a lot of dancers make it, or get to dance their whole careers. If my body gives away I will probably start teaching, but at least I have that option.“ Didn’t matter that she had gotten there mostly because of her ex, and had almost been forced to give it up because of him too. “I don’t earn a whole lot though, it isn‘t a luxury living, but even if I had to live in a cupboard to be allowed to practice dance, I would so do it.”

“I like bets, I am in on this plan. If I win, you will teach me a Bollywood dance and preform it with me next time I do a class,” she said, grinning.

Milou nodded. “I lived in Noord Brabant, like.. farmer country. Studied there as well, different city.“ Then she narrowed her eyes a little. “What do you mean maybe still is? You don‘t have a good relationship with your mom?” There was a lot you didn’t ask, as far as she knew, on second meetings. But Milou had been surrounded by people who shared quickly - except if it was money, money was off the table - that she too asked far too quickly. 

That smile was a little contagious, and Fernanda feels  the corner of her lip twitch almost into a smile - she stops herself. She sweeps one of the seats towards her with her foot and sits, setting her coffee on the table between them. “…Argentina. But I’ve lived here a while.” She answers cautiously, popping the top of her coffee off and setting it aside so she could take a sip from the cup - a waste of plastic in her opinion. There’s a pause. “And you?”

“I’m sorry, Milou, I’m more of a plain coffee type of gal, even though i’ll admit double shot sounds like something exciting” Reina gives the oldest a toothy smile, in a way that her dimples appeared on her cheeks, suddenly catching a good mood. Right after, with a head movement she points at her table, placed next to one of the panoramic windows of the premises “One of those chairs has your name written on it, if you like”

— location: bourbon street — date and time: saturday afternoon — availability: open

It was a tranquil day, their husband had been visiting his family and their youngest, Toni, tagged along. With both Aaliyah and Brian enjoying being twenty-one and going out with friends they made in college, Aisha was… alone for any plans they’d like to do for that saturday; and with that, they ended up at one of their favorite spots in the city: bourbon street. While waiting for their order, Aisha continued to go through some conversation, silence sometimes seemed to cause time to pass by slower. “I think that Brian is going through his teenage years kind of late than I assumed he would. I asked him if I could pick him up last friday at college for us to have lunch together and he said it was lame. It’s the first time I heard him saying that meet one of his parents would be lame.”

Part of herself was certain that it wouldn’t happen to her husband if he was the one asking to give Brian a ride. “Part of myself is glad that Toni came into the equation, I don’t think I was ready for the whole ‘empty nest’ kind of situation,” then they chuckled. “Look at me making the conversation all about me. I tend to do this sometimes… anyway, what did you order?” 

Milou’s eyes glimmered like they would when she was completely at someone’s every word. “Oh, he must be having some really horrible friends. I tell you, if kids listened a little less to each other, they would be more descent humans,” Milou said. “My sister once said she hated my mom’s food, I was horrified, but good lady that she is, my mom wasn’t phased one bit, just calmly asked her what it was she didn’t like about it. Conversation lasted ages, but my mom never lost her temper until she got to the bottom of the issue. Turned out some boy told her she smelled like bad spices, and she thought if she stopped eating my mom’s food, she would smell better. My mom ended by saying that good food is the food you can smell from blocks away, that drive all the neighbours to your doorstep.” 

She paused. “What did I order?” Milou laughed. “I forgot.”