I'M ON FIRE.

He follows her lead, thinking just then about how he would quite possibly follow her anywhere she’d want him to. It might seem too quick to the unsuspecting eye. Two people on their first date saying things like “I trust you” and “I might fall in love with you”. But it’s not their first date, not really, and they have been in each other’s lives for as long as Gabriel can remember. It was like they just needed this push to spend more time together, and Gabriel was being more than honest when he said there was a great chance, he couldn’t deny her anything.  

Cleo was an infectious kind of woman. He saw himself wrapped more and more around her delicate fingers as time went on. Georgina was more than right when she said that if Billy was alive, he would have harassed him to ask her out a long time ago, after all, like a comet, people like Cleo only came every once in over a hundred years. Those were the kind of opportunities one wouldn’t want to let go of. So, he didn’t. He held on firmly to her hand as he guided them briefly to the top deck before she took the lead of the excursion. This wasn’t exactly planned. If Gabriel had his way, she would be relaxing and talking and not worrying about where they were going to be because he had it covered. He suspected however, that when it came to her, he would hardly get his way, on the chance of experiencing the excitement she had behind those big blue eyes.

Conversation between them was clearly a filler, not a necessity.  

His mother had spoken to him a long time ago that when he finds someone he can be perfectly in silence with, then he’ll know. Sylvie was a smart woman, maybe too smart for Gabriel’s sake, but he had always held onto her words. She had just missed the mark when it came to Rebecca, but Gabriel hardly blamed her. Like Cleo, Rebecca was exciting and daring, unlike Cleo, most of what Rebecca had said to him had been lies to lead him on. It made him wonder if that was a door he’d ever be able to fully close in his life. It’s not like he was able to have a conversation with her or was granted some kind of explanation. One moment he was standing there, in the end of the aisle, friends and family looking at him with hopefulness and happiness to see him joining someone he loved forever; and the next moment her mother came down, delivering him a not with the words ‘I’m sorry’ scribbled. He asked who was that from, but he knew, it was impossible not to connect the dots. He was owed a conversation he didn’t have, he just hoped that while he did his best to move on with Cleo, his past wouldn’t come back for another round. He hadn’t seen her since and for now at least, he fully intended to keep it that way.

Once they were finally at the top deck, Gabriel smiled at her bossiness. It was delightful how it came through even in a situation like that and it made her look even sexier, but he kept it to himself that last comment. “Okay, okay—” the smile lingered on his lips as she recounted their trust for one another. Holding her hand now to his chest, Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled the salty air surrounding them.

He had been in many places during his life. Constant travels for international tournaments, not to mention family trips that seemed to be squeezed in their free days more often than not. Gabriel was no stranger to the road. There was no feeling like home, however. He had never been one for the ferry boat, mostly because he tried never to need to leave the island, but even when he did take it, he would be leaning against the rail on the bottom deck, just waiting for the boat to dock and the extensive line of cars and passengers to leave for their mundane activities. Being in the boat alone always made him wonder what people who shared his ride had been through. Or were going through at that exact moment. The games he played, he did with himself, imagining worlds and hidden secrets, especially since reading while in the boat — or car, or train, or plane — was prone to give him a serious case of motion sickness.

He opens his eyes a few moments later to find her eyes on him. He would lift his hand and caress her cheek had both his hands not been otherwise occupied. There is something to be said about his constant need to touch her and reach out and be close. He was afraid that he would never stop now that he has started. He lets her guide once more, a few steps over to a bench. Not exactly hidden, but unoccupied, which is unseen in a 30-minute ride — sometimes more than that. He lets go of her hand for the first time since he had picked her up at home and lets his fingers explore the worn-out wood of the bench. “Cataline Ferry Love Bench, huh?” He raises his eyebrows at her again, a humorous smile dancing on his lips. There is a lot he could say right now, but Gabriel keeps it to himself. They’re not together, per se, they still have their small traditions to create and maybe uphold in the years to come, but Gabriel promises himself to commit the bench to memory, and bring her out to enjoy the ride more. “Well, come on then, maybe we can create some new memories other than you going back home feeling less than optimal,” he finally takes a sit on the bench and pats the spot next to him.

“You know, this is a pretty damn great view,” but he isn’t looking at the ocean surrounding them at all. By now he has peeled off his sunglasses and is gazing at her. “Thanks for sharing it with me.” He suspects that a few times on this ride, he will have to remind himself of the fact that he is not a boy who has invited the prettiest girl in school for a date, but a man. A thirty-four, almost thirty-five-year-old man, who should not be afraid of showing Cleo affection she seems to be pretty open about receiving. It doesn’t help that he wants to kiss her. Has been wanting to kiss her since he picked her up and home and saw her dressing in something he was unaware a child of Evelyn Halliwell could dress, and looking beautiful in it. This would be a nice place as any to kiss her, but he is hoping to save it for later. At least a little bit later, that was.  

He takes his worn-out baseball cap from his head and leans to give her the second best: a kiss on the cheek. It’s almost obvious that he is testing the waters, so to speak, especially in the way he lingers. He wants her to feel comfortable, but he needs to feel comfortable too. He hardly wants to be clashing teeth when time comes.

Leaning forward to grab both bags of food and place it between them ( not the location he would have wanted but it’s not like he was going to keep their food on the floor any longer ) Gabriel takes out two take out packs and hands her one. “I needed to call in some favors and some people who know you better than I do, but I got you a breakfast sandwich on a bagel from the new place that opened last week—” Everything Bagel was the name and for once Gabriel thanked that his mother had some influence in some establishments in the island, otherwise he suspected their entire day would have been delayed since the line was rounding the corner by the time he got there. For himself, Gabriel had gotten the Ham, Eggs and Pepper Jack sandwich on a sesame bagel and for Cleo he had chosen the sesame bagel with prosciutto and apples. “I have to say though, you’re costing me a lot of favors I was only supposed to reclaim later in life.” He winked playfully at her before tearing the foil wrapper and biting into the bagel, not helping the moan that followed.  

“Okay the line around the block is totally justified,” Gabriel spoke with a muffled voice because he didn’t give himself the trouble to swallow. If Sylvie was around, she would have teared him a new one, but that was the kind of easiness he was aiming for with Cleo, because that was him. He was the guy who spoke with his mouth full and who often harbored between being an adult and an overgrown man-child. He hoped to make her laugh along with his jokes, and be comfortable to be herself to whatever extent she wanted to.

Somewhere between their walk to the top deck and them sitting down, the honk that alerted just about every resident in Catalina that it was about to take off had sounded, and they were already moving through water with the utmost easiness. Gabriel picked the cold brew he had left on the floor — decaf, because caffeine was still not permitted since the accident, and since his ADHD diagnosis, for a fact — and took a long sip. “So, tell me, what has been your best birthday so far? Not including this one, of course.”

It is no shocking tale that Cleo is a woman that admires being at the forefront and being in control at any given circumstance. Giving up control is a challenge, especially when it comes to something that she is passionate about, and she has to learn how to trust people to do the work they’re hired to do. However, when it comes to her birthday outing with Gabe, the blonde has no desire to take control of the afternoon whatsoever. Instead, she wants to share a piece of herself that others know nothing about as a glimpse of her effort of being open to the procession to what will be a forever kind of love story.

So while she intends on companioning along the journey of the unknown for today, he deserves to embark in a memory of seclusion as they’ll soon capture the sight of a fleeting Catalina and a quaint surrounding, just the both of them, as no one knows about this bench.

Though, nerves do find her unnecessarily and uncharacteristically on the brief journey to where they stand now. Coming from the place where she doesn’t know how he’ll react to this love-infested bench since they have no labels tying them together. The sight of the court may come off as too strong from Cleo’s behalf ─ evoking a force that others may not find comfort in. Although, it doesn’t stop her whatsoever, and she wants this spot to eventually be a place where they take a marker and write their initials down on free space, so it is written somewhere official and for everything in the future to see. This is what she wants, nothing than anything.

To break the rules of control for one second, this one precise location, in particular, is one that she doesn’t regret whatsoever. All she can hope is that Gabe understands the point and the effort coming from her behalf to feel heard and seen even on her day.

Catalina Ferry Love Bench, huh?

His questioning remark causes the usual flatlined mouth corners to wrinkle further upward, nodding at Gabe’s direction before taking a gentle digit to wander over a plethora of initials. Something in this action makes her feel close to the couples that sat on this bench before. Perhaps it is the hope that each of these initials is still together, and the pairs come back to this precise ferry and location to marvel at how much they’ve grown together and how grateful they are to be merrily in love with each other. It’s the only sight of a healthy relationship that Cleo has ever witnessed, even though there’s no physical way she’ll ever know these strangers by first name basis or know their love stories. But, she believes that these couples who sat here before are the definition of true love and giving her a plethora of hope that things will work out with the man less than a few feet away from her, taking in what screams hopeless romantic.

After a moment of her admiration, which happens every time she takes this ferry to and from Catalina, oceanic hues flicker up to him and gleam full of life, settling in the core of the heaven to the center of her soul. “Memories is all that I ask for,” Cleo begins gently, effortlessly moving to occupy the seat beside him with legs crossing at her ankles. It takes her a moment to say anything else, mainly because her sight is distracted by how handsome he is, but it’s the ideal excuse to gather her breath. “Thank you for letting me show you this spot. I promise this is the only part of the day that I’m going to interrupt, but it wouldn’t feel right if I sat anywhere else on my birthday,” she says gleefully, “So now, you know where I sit when I have to commute to Los Angeles.. my little slice of love heaven.”

As those words settle in the vast atmosphere amongst them, rather than observing elsewhere like her optics usually do, there she is leaning slightly closer to Gabe with a gaping beam. Vibrant color of pink has begun to find the apple of her cheeks, feeling his comment about the view being directed at her rather than what they’ll soon see vanish as the ferry leaves port in a matter of minutes. “Same, my view is very good-looking. Probably the best view I’ve ever seen on this trip to Los Angeles.” There is no point in hiding her subtly now, let alone ever, as she wholeheartedly agrees to his prior statement but adding a touch of her own words to make him know that everything he’s feeling is reciprocated right now. Still beaming, saccharine words shortly proceeds to say, “And you’re welcome.”

Still fixing on him, what happens next, though mundane but respectful, still causes the butterflies to circulate in her stomach. It’s something over nothing, though here she is, letting a hand gently travel up to his hair and adjust a curl once he’s pulled away from planting a kiss on her cheek. She is allowing herself to linger in this fleeting moment, just like it’s a slow-motion clip in those cliché nineties movies. That is until the rumble in her stomach alerts her senses, and the feeling of more weight settles on the bench now.

Attention diverting toward the bags, unaware of what to expect or what’s her order, Cleo sits there and waits until Gabe passes off an item to her as he explains things. Instantly a chuckle parts from her mouth, opening up the sandwich as her mouth waters. “First off, this looks amazing,” Beginning, her nostrils begin to flare in awe while taking in the sent before shooting him a brow, “Second, how did you know that I’m a sucker for a good breakfast sandwich with prosciutto, apples and sesame bagels?” Perhaps Ava let it slip, considering that it’s Cleo’s go-to order anytime a restaurant has a sandwich like such. The other option she orders if the first isn’t on the menu is a chocolate pancake with lots of whip cream. “And lastly, if you need help repaying those favors, I’ll be more than happy to assist you as long as I get to spend time with you,” she smiles before biting into her sandwich as contentment takes over her soul ─ evident by the way her shoulders roll back in ease, and a hand rests on her chest.

God, she loves food, but when it hits the spot… it’s an entirely different story.

“I’ll have to check Everything Bagel out,” Cleo says in a muffled tone, hand covered over her mouth because it’s unladylike to chew and talk. Plus, the last thing she wants to do is come off as unladylike to Gabe, even though she’s aware that he’s dealt with Ava for centuries. It’s a different ballpark when it comes to being around your crush and wanting to impress him. “Maybe getting ahead of myself, but we could check it out together?” Her head diverts back to him, subtly mouth crinkle floats to the service at her jumping ahead and wanting future moments with him. “You know, my not-so-subtle attempt on letting you know that I’ll be stuck to you like glue,” she finalizes with a wink.

Much to their indulgence and the loss of the surroundings, the jolt of the ferry moving doesn’t startle Cleo but brings in the wonder of where they’ll be heading next on her birthday adventure. Not the slightest clue begins to circulate and piece it together, though it would ruin the element of surprise that he has flawlessly planned. It brings enthusiasm to the surface, but the infinite amount of trust that it will be her best birthday celebration in so many years. After all, it isn’t typical for the blonde to celebrate it with a special someone. As she usually has to attend her birthday party dressed up in a costume ─ the last one she dressed up as Steve Harrington from Stranger Things ─ or for promotional factors in a tight dress, towering heels that she couldn’t wait to get out of. It wasn’t that she disliked getting glammed because she does, but for once, it’s refreshing to do something different and share at the moment with one person instead of thousands of others.

Cleo has every intention of telling Gabe every moment possible about how grateful she is for today.

Grateful for him planning something. Grateful for him wanting to spend their first date together on her birthday. Grateful for the fact that he, a rare gem that could’ve been picked up by another woman right after his failure with Rebecca, is giving this, them, an opportunity.

“Oh, you’re asking a big question now.” Jest laborious in her tone, a free hand adjusted her freshly trimmed bangs as the wind knocked them out of place, gleaming like a child on Christmas morning. “Besides this one, of course, I would have to say my eleventh birthday weekend.” Taking a moment to have another bite before sipping on her coffee, the blonde leans her slender back against the infinite initials now. “It’s the one birthday celebration I had with my dad and no one else. It was rare for me to get away, especially having a long weekend away from ballet. Still, somehow he convinced my instructor that I needed this more than anything,” she laughs, recalling Arthur sharing the story, “I didn’t know where we were going, but my luggage was packed for me, and I just went along with whatever he had planned. All I need less than two hours later, I was in Seattle.”

However, the point wasn’t finished yet. Cleo took a moment to catch her breath, oceanic optics fixating on them after staring sight of Catalina fading into the background momentarily. “I’ve never been to Seattle before, but I did love a sports team from there ─ Seattle Mariners. I’m not sure if I loved them because of their jersey color or what, but otherwise, it was like a dream come true.” Laughter bubbled from her lips, missing the few times she spent alone with her father, as she doesn’t allow the nostalgia to overtake her expression. “Just my dad and I took over the city by spending our morning at Pike Place Market, eating our weight in oysters, which I got a lot of looks from people about how refined my taste palettes was, before he surprised me with a game later in the afternoon. It was one of my fondest memories, but whatever you have in store this afternoon,” An abrupt pause, her hand finds his upper-arm and lets it settle there, “I know it will top my eleventh birthday and that’s not me putting pressure, but like I said earlier... I trust you.”

Ethan doesn’t pick up women at the bar. Not anymore, anyway, not after the last disastrous encounter which woke him up to a few hundred bucks shorter and his work laptop gone. He had blamed himself enough for allowing a complete stranger into his house, but thinking that many people had done before him and himself had also done that many times before, he took the risk and it didn’t pay off. Zero satisfaction and total loss. Nowadays, he chose to laugh about it, because that was basically what Ethan was made of, laughing about what ruined him.

Georgina also didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would be picked up at a bar. It was easy to see that her “shields” were up and she was protecting herself from any man that might approach her. However, to his advantage, not only they were old acquaintances as he was her children’s doctor. “Georgina Livingston is fine, it’s a mouthful, but it’s better than Geo,” he teased her as he took the vacant seat beside her, a smile on his lips along with a wave of dismissal. Their previous history gave place to sense of easiness around one another. The way Ethan saw it, he could have treated it one of two ways: he could have been bitter forever — which didn’t really match his personality — or he could take advantage that somehow the universe had brought them back together and pretend that he never let go of her ghosting mechanism. The latter had proved to be much more fun, especially when he turned to her kids and called their mother Casper, they always looked at him with questioning eyes and he offered a: when you’re older, you’ll understand, especially you buddy, he said to Asher, women are ruthless.

They had been. In his life. However, Ethan had easily adjusted into the bachelor act since he had divorced from his previous wife. He never denied himself any fun as long as it didn’t get in the way of his ambitions. Nowadays he worked at the Children’s Hospital. It was a nice place. He was loved by the staff, some nurses, especially ( like it has been said: he enjoys the bachelor life ), but there was always something inside him that wanted more than he was given, that always reached for more. 

He often wondered if it was him inevitably missing home and everything that entailed it. Beau Senior had been particularly adamant that he didn’t return. He had a good life in Catalina and he could come and visit whenever. His dad always knew him better than anyone else. He had been the one to set him straight and made him apply to university again after years of drowning in sorrow after his mother had died. In a sense, moving to California had given him the clean slate he wouldn’t have in Georgia, not when just about every bar owned in town had kicked him out of their establishment once or twice.

Part of him knew, though, that he would come back someday. He loved being a doctor, but since he could remember, Ethan wanted to share the farm life he had his whole life. Surrounded by animals of all types and just happy. He was fairly aware of where his happy place resided and it was hardly in California. Still, as long as he was there, he might as well make the most of it, right?

“Well, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t scratch this particular itch, would it?” He raised one eyebrow at her and then scratched his stubble. No matter how hard he shaved, by the end of the day, the beard would have begun growing already. “Besides, you dared to let this hot piece of ass go,” he called the bartender who walked over to them and ordered a refill of his beer “and whatever the lady is having, on me. Can you believe she ghosted me? It’s been a while, but man— look at her. I have a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to let go if she had ghosted you either, right?” Poor bartender, unsure of how to reply, mostly because he didn’t want to be rude to Georgina and also because he was fairly younger than the both of them ( early 20s Ethan would guess ) sputtered something and went on to make their drinks, Ethan smiled teasingly and looked at the brunette. “See? Jesus, poor guy, I suspect that he’ll have a Georgina Livingston in his life sometime.”

All of his words were in jest, of course. He admittedly liked pulling her leg, but he also knew his limits, last thing he needed was to be somehow insulting and drive her further away. If asked, Ethan suspected that he knew exactly how he felt when he realized Georgina wasn’t going to call him back, or even reply to his messages. He would lie if he said it didn’t take a hit on his self-esteem, but he was quick to move on.

Granted, Ethan wasn’t the most handsome guy during his time in Stanford. He wore braces and glasses at the same time, only growing out of the first a couple of years into med school. Georgina had always been beautiful. Short, but demanding and imposing. He suspected it came from growing up in a family that did nothing but boost their children’s confidence and created a happy environment for them. Ethan had grown up in the same kind of family, it was no wonder he thought he had a chance with her when he didn’t.

Inevitably though, their paths ceased to coincide. They lived in the same area, but entirely different lives, despite being married, despite being doctors. Still, when Georgina walked into his office with baby Asher, he couldn’t help the feeling of fate. He would never attempt anything while she was married, of course, despite the rumors about Tucker being whispered throughout town. He didn’t want to believe in any of them, after all, who had the courage to do anything to a beautiful soul like hers? Then Tucker died and he divorced and Ethan was still there, taking care of her children — medically speaking — seeing them grow up and call him uncle Ethan. Speaking about super heroes with Asher and still trying to find something that could get Joanna to his side. He suspected he would never be able to fully satisfy her, no matter how hard he tried.

Once their drinks were neatly placed on top of their coasters, he raised the beer in cheers to Georgina, taking a sip from it. “So, what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?” He asked eagerly, not really remembering the last time he had entered Bootlegger’s or any bar whatsoever and saw Georgina sitting on the bar or even among rowdy patrons. Bootleggers was admittedly less fancy than the Atwater for an example, so it didn’t attract people from Catalina’s high class. People like Georgina. He could only suspect someone had brought her there. “Were you kidnapped here? Blink once for yes and twice for no,” leave it to Ethan to turn just about anything into a joke. 

Georgina Livingston is fine, it’s a mouthful, but it’s better than Geo.

Expeditious joist of her mouth corners occupying her tan complexion, showcasing the known Livingston dimples indents at his choice of words. The majority of the people on the knit tight isle referenced her as Geo, preferring the shorthand of what can be deemed a mouthful full name. However, it didn’t astound Georgina when her offer toward Ethan was declined, and he picked the unfamiliar route that others shouldn’t even dare to travel down or be allowed to escape from their confines. It’s amusing, given it’s just a name, and some people prefer the formality. But something about the way he says her full name ─ Georgina Livingston ─ jolts a pleasant feeling (happiness about him being irregular to others) gliding through her as she sits near him and lets the silence do the current speaking.

The brunette knows their story could’ve been different had she not stood the male beside her. It’s something she thought about for many years ─ aware of the regret of not giving him a chance. She’s thought about it long and hard before, especially in the months-long before Tucker came into the picture. There isn’t a translucent answer to why Geo woke up and thought to distance them one day. It could’ve been the fact she thought, and wrongfully believed, Sebastian would show up one day and plead on his knees, but she was with another. Another could’ve been that he was too good to be true, so she settled for the next best thing. Although, her husband, the man with many flaws and caused more damage than salvaging her already broken heart, did only one good thing in his life and time with her ─ Asher and Joanna.

Even if she could go back with a time machine, come to realize that Ethan was the one to mend her heart and vice versa, every part of her would’ve missed the life lessons she came to learn over the years. Of course, her husband’s betrayal stung and made her feel idiotic for picking him. But, firsthand, the woman came to learn how to fight and know not to settle just to feel anything. She didn’t want Ethan to feel like a shadow in a past that was long dead and would never return to her romantically. At least with Tucker, he didn’t seem to care that he looked inferior to Sebastian because he was rarely around to listen to the rare complaints slipping from his in-laws and sibling-in-laws confines.

Regardless, things happened, and life wouldn’t make sense without enduring pain. Her upbringing was full of life, love, laughter, and memories that she couldn’t wait to share with her kids. Geo wouldn’t be the woman that she is today ─ a warrior that saw the near end at the end of the tunnel and believed life would take her away to be here, a mother with growing dreams of showing to her kids that it’s okay to fail and to learn because life is always about learning. One does not reach an age and know everything. It’s a lifestyle that people should endure simply to grow. No one likes a one-dimensional figure that fails to acknowledge their rights or wrongs.

And in this particular circumstance and Ethan’s frequent reminders, it’s something that she’s come to learn that it was all a part of her life’s plan. As brutal and heartbreaking as it may sound, Georgina knows there’s no point in looking back in wonder. The only thing that matters is what is ahead of her, whatever that may be, and see that she has boundless support from those nearby. Perhaps even the male beside her, who happens to have a significant impact in her life since he’s her children’s pediatrician.

Sipping on the remains of her first glass of rosé, has always been her choice of substance since the legal age, her pear-shaped face turned to the companion beside her with the same glistening expression from earlier. “Don’t you think after a while you’re going to grow bored by reminding what I did at twenty-something, Ethan?” While her facial expression remained light, whimsical with delight, her silvery falsetto comes swinging in with a curious question. It’s something she’s wondered. Not because she grew perforated at his constant need of bringing it up, but for reasons in knowing what ran through his conscience. “You know that my son is going to ask more questions,” she interjects, giving him a vaulted brow but entertaining this moment, “Since you always tell me about my little ghosting situation, Casper or whatever you call it, as if I’m not in the room and he has taken a major liking to you that no one else can answer his questions about ghosting.” It was all too adorable, if you asked the mother of two. Though, she would be caught guilty in eventually admitting that everything her kids did make her heart swell profusely ─ even if she was the subject at hand.

Nevertheless, Geo used the moment of silence. Her two employees’ sight was indulged with some men around their age and had no concern about where their boss went off too. It wouldn’t be hard for either of them to turn their head forty-five degrees to catch the sight of her mingling with Ethan. Peculiarity would course through them, meaning that she’d have to indulge in a plethora of questions about the mystery (not so much to her) man that stole her away from them. Every response would come with the utter truth, letting them know about the history from their past and how they didn’t go further in their what could’ve been relationship and how they’re just friends. After all, people forgot that women could be friends with men and not have an ulterior motive.

“Ethan─” Cutting herself off, hearing as her children’s pediatrician drone to the nearby bartender about their love story. Only taking a second to set her glass back down on the paper coaster to lift her hand and smack him playfully on his arm. Though, she wasn’t upset by any means for him blabbering since he did that to everyone near them. He’s done it for years, and it gave him the satisfaction to hold something over her head. She could quickly shut it down, but the way he gets enjoyment out of it makes her happy. It’s peculiar the way she wants nothing more but to make him merry at the expense of her own shortcomings sitting at the surface all too often. “Sometimes I think you just love to hear yourself speak, and all you can only think about is how I ghosted,” she points out in a chuckle, witnessing as the bartender went on his carried away before saying her next words, “You scared the poor kid, alright? And by the way, he probably ghosts girls rather than him getting ghosted. If only we could get his phone and see his messages, my point will be proven.”

Of course, they wouldn’t do such a task. Everything she meant was light and full of comics just to entertain Ethan however way he wanted. Back to the point where she let him act any way that he wanted because it made him happy. She’s always been the kind of woman to make sure others were taken care. Some needed support and an endless amount of physical parenting and safeguarding with force, Lydia, whereas others, like the male beside her, needed to jest like there’s no tomorrow.

But sometimes, especially given his heartbreak, she ponders if his failed marriage has ever bothered him. It’s not easy to be young, raised a certain way to see love as a dream come true, to experience a divorce or passing of spouse ─ her experience ─ at a young age. She knew the failed marriages around the isle traveled quickly. It was the hottest form of gossip, even though no one ever wanted to be the whisper of the town. Yet still, the woman can’t help but to ponder about what’s really like behind the cheerful, laugh of the party, a companion that always makes her feel like her stomach might combust from frequent laughter. Her mind is somehow making a deal to get to know him, the real him, to know what else they might have in common that she didn’t find out in her early twenties.

Thankfully, she isn’t forced to think any longer about the mask hidden underneath his upbeat persona. Their drinks, after potentially frightening the bartender, showed up like she just snapped her fingers. Time seemed to move swimmingly with the other now. They finish off the cheers, smiling against the rim of her crystalline rosé, while he asks a million-dollar question. “My co-workers,” Mumbling against the rim of wine glass, the veterinarian sets her glass down as her head motions to the two twenty-somethings flirting with the other twenty-something men, “I haven’t told anyone else other than my family, but I completed a certification program so I can take care of the aquatic life in Catalina. I’m the only veterinarian on the island, and I had been thinking about it for a while.”

Gabriel can’t help the light chuckle which escapes his lips at his sister’s words. “Cheesy,” he accused, even though he knew she was right. The way Sylvie and Johnathan had raised them to always believe they were a unity and would always thrive like so was envied among his friends. He grew up surrounded of other equally wealthy kids whose parents just didn’t care enough to give them the time of the day. Always surrounded by nannies and material love, rather than the one he had received.

Johnathan and Sylvie were their children’s number one people to go to. They were at every competition, school event, fair and presentation. Just about every memory of Gabriel’s is not without the sight of his parents standing in the front row and applauding his conquests, or by his side when results were less than fortunate. He remembers fearing Johnathan’s reaction when he found out about the drug testing, but he would never have imagined that his father would be the first one to make sure he knew there was a way out of it and up again. Where most parents failed, his were the complete opposite. He was lucky, he recognized that, he was lucky enough that he wanted to give some of his luck to others and it had been one of the reasons why he started the charity in the first place. The way his parents always made him feel — at the top of the world — was the very same feeling he wanted to give to his nephew and niece.  

While he felt as if Georgina was doing the very best job in the world, he was glad that he was needed when it came to it. He hardly took it lightly when granted with the role of being Joanna’s godfather, but he never made it so that Asher felt left out for their roles in each other’s lives might be seen as less significant. When he’s old enough and Georgina decides to share with him how the first moments of his life were, Gabriel will make sure to be there and tell him that his mother is the greatest warrior he has ever seen and sometimes, even the greatest warriors need sidekicks. Gabriel was Georgina’s sidekick during those few months, forfeiting competitions until she was in good standing. It felt little compared to what the woman had been doing for him over the past years of his life, and as long as he can remember, but he knows he will always try to make it up, even though it’s not needed.

His sister’s next words are sweet, and put together to bring some ease to his heart, but Gabriel reckons his best friend’s death is a burden he’ll have to carry to the rest of his life. It amended some when Rebecca was around, he made sure to talk about him to her, tell her what they were up to in their UCLA days and how they loved to wreak havoc around the city, havoc being a strong word. He barely ever shared much of him with other people nowadays, partly afraid his memory might give out on him, or that he might slip away while he is trusting his fondest memories to someone else. He did talk about him to Cleo, though, it was unexpected and sort of invigorating, but it had been once and he hadn’t volunteered any more information on him.  

Georgina knew it all though. Knew Billy almost as long as Gabriel did, give it or take the few months from meeting him to his mother starting to bring him around for play dates. His best friend always had the biggest crush on Georgina, which often elicited a gross from Gabriel’s lips, no matter how old they were. Billy followed her around as a kid, asked relentlessly about her as a teenager and even tried to ask her out once and tell her that if she didn’t want to marry Tucker, she should definitely marry him. Gabriel laughed at him when he confessed why he was so sour at her wedding, but they ended up getting hammered and having a good time. It was hard to keep him off his mind, wondering how much he would love this or that and enjoy just about everything thoroughly. He always did. Gabriel was actually the broody out of the two.

He looks at his sister, mind lost in reminiscing and presses his lips together. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put a damp in the moment, it’s just… it feels fucked up, you know?” Compared to Billy, Gabriel had been far reckless with his own life and there he was, sitting there, having a conversation with his sister and enjoying a week in the company of his family. Soon he would be able to start golfing again and probably win more championships, go to the Olympics and make it big, just like he always wanted to. It felt unfair. “It’s not fair to say this to you, or to mom and dad, because I know how you were worried when I had the accident, but sometimes, I don’t know, I feel lucky and not in the best way,” he shrugs his shoulder and takes a long sip of his wine. Nowadays, Gabriel is far from a heavy drinker, but will take big gulps when needed, it’s definitely one of his stress signs.

Reaching out, he takes his sister’s hand into his, suddenly wishing that his mother and father and younger sister were there too. He sniffs in a feeble attempt to chase away stubborn tears that rim his eyes and threaten to fall. He squeezes her hand, clearing his throat and bringing her knuckles to his lips, leaving a kiss them before dropping both their hands — still linked — between them. “You’re right though, we do need to do what it takes to keep him alive. He did love it out here and he would love this holiday,” he shakes his head, “I just miss him. I mean, I feel like everyone has their best friends in tow and it just feels weird not to have mine, especially when we were rightfully glued to each other’s hips like we were,” a sigh escapes his lips and he turns his head to the side when his sister brings up Cleo Halliwell.

Gabriel had been trying, unsuccessfully, to tell himself that it was all friendship. He didn’t know if for his sake, or because he was scared to tell Ava he might want to make a move on her sister. It had been a while, probably since Rebecca, that he felt such at ease with someone else, and it didn’t escape him. What he felt towards Cleo was definitely very different from what he felt towards his sister and her sister. There was friendship there, of course, but it always felt like they were on the edge of something more. He laughs, almost dismissively, but knowing he will hardly be able to keep the subject at bay like he wants to.

“I had a feeling that you would end up rounding on this subject,” he smiles, “but Billy would, or would have made a move on her a long time ago,” a soft chuckle escapes his lips, this time, with humor. “I have been planning on finally asking her out. We’re going to meet after I’m back and will do it. It’s just weird, I haven’t been interested in anyone since Rebecca, not to this extent, anyway. I just keep thinking that I might not be well equipped to handle rejection, if it comes.”

Though humorous and lighthearted, Gabriel’s accusation impacts the upward crinkles on the persistent beam that possessed the eldest Livingston now. Cheesy is one way ─ if not the best ─ to describe the endless bounty of love amongst this family for all of the years and the many more to come. Many admired it and frequently discussed amongst their dear friends how grateful they are to have such a supportive set of parents. Even times, beloved companions acknowledged their jealousy over the Livingstons and the never-shattering value of family first, with everything else falling on the backburner. Georgina has always know that she’s lucky and wouldn’t change it for the world. However, tonight as their sister embarks on the next step of her journey and the eldest two sit outside, it’s a moment of reflection gripping the surface.

She knows that life hasn’t been easy for any of the Livingston three. Georgina with her post-partum depression after giving birth to Asher and the eventual information of her husband’s betrayal to their future. Gabriel with the loss of his best friend and performing enhancing supplements to achieve the goals that he’s drilled profusely into his conscience. And Gabriella, a soul with dreams of overtaking the world of Formula One that came to a shattering close when the sound went mute in a singular ear and caused her to return home to safeguard her future as much as possible. It took their younger sister years to figure out what she wanted to do with herself, but finally, it would come into motion.

Truthfully, it had been challenging to see them all suffering at one point or another. Rarely did it feel like the universe was on their side or wanted them to catch their breath before throwing the subsequent unpredictable circumstance in their lap to deal together. This is what Sylvie and Jonathan have always taught them to stand in unison through life’s unforeseeable futures. Nothing in their lives would ever change that, and they knew it.

It’s why if one of them gave off the impression, such as Gabe sitting lonesome self on this picturesque and glistening array of fireworks, they pick one on the other and check up on each other. No matter what time of the day or evening it is, their parents won’t be there to stand in solidarity with them one day. It will just be the three of them and other martial family ties they end up settling with. So, rather than listening to her sister’s moment with their parents, giving them the privacy to discuss, especially since Georgina knew everything because Gabby ran it through her first, she’s here prepared for whatever might escape from her brother’s mouth. Any pain, any worry that consumes him, or any merry thoughts, she’ll be here to reassure him and guide him down a path that makes the most sense to him.

After all, if there’s one person in this family that deserves eternal happiness and an infinite amount of good luck, it was the male right beside her. Knowing Gabe, he would say the same thing in return about Geo (Gabby, too) about how she was warranted to have someone who loved her and always choose her ─ rather than being a second choice or one who abandoned when life got too harsh. It always made her emotional when he said those things to her. But right now, things started to look upward, and everything felt okay at this point in her life. Even if it means that Geo would be lonely and watching from the sidelines, she’ll be able to live through her younger siblings and growing children. However, what she didn’t want is to see the actions from Rebecca consume her brother anymore.

His apologies were instant, which caused her hand to immediately wave through the air, accepting the fact that sometimes they have to speak from the bottom of their heart ─ even if it hurt their family to hear the rattling thoughts. “Gabe, you never have to apologize to me.” Adjusting her body to be pointed to him, her hand moves to set the wine glass on the shaggy carpet of the evergreen grass. Her multitoned optics were delicate, with a gaze of sorrow creeping to the surface. This moment reminds her of when Geo pleaded and begged her brother to do the most for Asher if she couldn’t get out of the darkness that began to take her further away. It aches to be on the receiving end, but more than ever, does she understand how much the words must’ve stung him. “I know why you said that, though. It put things into perspective whenever my postpartum acted up, and I thought it would be the end of our time together,” she whispers in an admittance as a gnawing feeling crawls to the surface. “But, you know that we’ll never judge you for what you think or feel. Not when we’ve seen each other at the lowest of lows.”

Her brother’s own reflex of pulling the wine glass to his lips alerts her in the act of desperation. Bending down to pick the crystalline substance, the size of this sip is far more substantial than the ones she took previously. It’s a hefty conversation to have, considering less than twenty feet away was a celebration between Gabby and their parents, and two kids sound asleep in the cabin’s bedrooms. However, the Livingston wore their hearts on their sleeves, and it would be harder for them to mask their emotions. And sometimes, because of their empath personalities, alcohol is necessary to numb the feelings residing.

Just as she finished her sip and allowed the glass to sit on the armrest on her right side, the feeling of the sibling’s digits entangling against each other brought tears to her hues. It only enhanced further whenever her brother kissed her freshly tanned kiss. At this point and their need for affection, she would’ve been on the ground wailing uncontrollably, but he keeps her settled in the chair and near him. Returning a squeeze to him, a prolonged sigh parts from her confines as Geo relaxes into the chair once again. “He may have left you earlier than you planned, but he will always be a part of you, Gabe,” Saccharine falsetto, the one that she wore ever since she was little, reassures him vastly. “Billy would’ve made sure that Ash and Joanna were awake to wake him set off the fireworks, even if he had to hold them both,” she laughs at a memory dancing in her conscience, “Which I already know tomorrow they’ll be complaining that they fell asleep again but besides, Billy will always be a part of us and the future. It’s time to live in his memory with happiness, which is what he would’ve wanted from us, rather than us sitting here and being teary-eyed.”

There are many things Georgina learned because of Billy. The important one had always been to live life to the fullest and not to look back in any form of regret. It still aches that he was taken away from them all too prematurely, long before he could have had a chance to meet his niece and nephew with pools of tears filling his eyes. Still, the new generation of the Livingston from this evening on will know everything about their pseudo-Uncle Billy. It’s better late than never, as the wise tales always say.

Sitting in the fleeting interlude, allowing her brother to address what Geo suspects Cleo is an opportunity for him to fall in love again. “It was only a matter of time,” Falsetto eagerly points out, possessing the glass and tipping it in his direction, “Word will travel around, and I want to be the first to know if I should push you to take the leap or not, which of course, I’m rooting for the first point because as peculiar as it may sound…. the idea of Cleo and you is breathtaking.” Pausing to sip on her wine, the brunette smiles against the glass rim about her brother, asking the blonde out. It comes with another statement that causes her nose to scrunch together and sigh. Rejection is despised by everyone ─ even the most attractive souls to grace this earth, but she doesn’t want her brother to have these assumptions blinding his future experience with the other woman. “It’s okay to be nervous, but don’t let it cloud your judgment. I may not be as close to Cleo as I am to Ava, but I know she isn’t the type to hurt you when everyone has hurt her in the past.”

Ophelia was prone to addiction, she had a very addictive personality and often wondered if it stemmed from her family environment. It was a very real possibility, if not the only diagnosis.

She remembered the first time she had picked up a cigarette. She was 13, between the breaks of a movie (she had been in the industry for a while now). When one of her co-stars offered it to her and told her that everyone smoked in Hollywood, she was stupid enough to not only believe, but to agree and comply. She didn’t think she coughed harder in her life. The aftertaste was awful and it made her feel extremely nauseated. Ophelia felt like that for a long time after her first cigarette, but in the midst of trying her second, some of the effects started to subdue, and she could hold in the smoke a little longer without coughing out her lungs. After a couple more drags, the tingling sensation she had on the tip of her tongue, spread out throughout her body. She liked it how it made her feel, it sure as hell beat how she felt on a regular basis.

Ophelia never stopped smoking since. Only when going through fertility treatments, but giving in immediately whenever they proved themselves to be unsuccessful— and there was a lot of failure in those. Smoking had not only preceded, but also taken place of the alcohol when the consumption stopped. Nicotine was basically what kept her standing there, taking to her sister, pretending some kind of cordiality when all she wanted was to slip inside, wrap her lips around the rim of one of her father’s crystal liquor bottles and down the whole content without a second thought. If anything, being in a drunken stupor would make dealing with Van Doren reunions a much more interesting affair.

Unlike cigarettes, however, she cannot remember her first sip of alcohol, or how or when it truly evolved into an embarrassing problem. Anyone who looks at her clearly sees that the red-haired woman has enough unresolved issues to fill a three-part, Lord of the Rings-size novels, but she never thought she would get so caught up in them and harm herself while doing do, or hurt others. Benjamin usually came to mind whenever she felt like she might slip and cave in. Drinking was another thing that happened often among those who shared lives within the industry, it was difficult to go anywhere where it wasn’t available, no matter one’s age.

Ophelia often reckoned if her problems evolved when she learned of her infertility. Contrary to popular belief and everything she said in interviews before, there was a time when she wanted to be a mother. She thought that maybe she could give a child a different life than the one she had. Maybe they would make a better person out of there, and they would change each other’s lives. It was a lot of pressure to put into someone who would never become. She had put so many dreams and hopes into being a mother, probably more than she was willing to share with Benjamin. She often thought he had wasted so much of his life with her and seeing him with their nephew and nieces, it was enough to know that the man was meant to be a father. It made an aching kind of pain to course through her body every time she was reminded, she would not be able to give him that. He was one of the reasons why, while she might not be a good sister, she was a good aunt. She didn’t want him to have to keep himself away from the other children of the family, too.

It was funny, at least she found it really humorous, that even with the darkness surrounding them in that garden, herself and Olive could not be more different. They shared their father’s baby blues and red hair — something their grandmother was oddly proud of — they even shared a similar height and body build. Physically, they were twins, through and through, but it was easy to see that while Olive was hopeful and kind, Ophelia was full of bitterness and ghosts, and not the kind who could be dealt with. Even in Olive’s words it was easy to see that she spared kindness and good nature on people who did not deserve it. “Parenting is a bit of a loose term, don’t you think?” Meanwhile, Ophelia’s words were almost laced with venom. It wasn’t hard to guess whether she liked someone or not, especially when it came to her family. When it came to them, she didn’t know how to seem unaffected and stoic as she otherwise would.

From a very young age, their mother had taught them not to be transparent to other people. Among many other reasons, it had also been the way they stopped being transparent to one another. Ophelia had searched her mind, time and again, for the last time she had a heart to heart with Olive. Over the years of competition and sullen disposition imposed by their mother’s very wish that they should only ever outdo one another — each twin having the other as their biggest enemy — it was hard to pinpoint exactly when she stopped letting her walls down to her sister. If forced under oath, Ophelia still wouldn’t tell her how much she missed her. How much she missed the moments they shared when they were children and before years of continued outside influence ruined them for good. She missed telling her everything, she missed when they completed one another, but at that very moment, only a few feet apart, both dressed to the nines in fancy clothes and heels that pierced the grass beneath their soles, Ophelia felt her heart drop. Their family had done it. They were primed and proper and distant. The sinking feeling on the pit of her stomach which only left her when she was alone with Benjamin, returned full force, causing her to react the only way she knew how to: taking a sharp drag out of her cigarette and keeping the smoke inside.

She truly preferred drinking, though.

Her sister’s following words made her roll her eyes visibly, scoffing along with it. It was far from the one she wanted to hear. Was it so hard to believe that she might have offered the information because she wanted to Olive to know? She deeply craved the intimacy they never had. She did have it enough of people asking her about it, but Olive wasn’t people, Olive was her sister. With a turmoil of emotions inside, Ophelia cleared her throat, piercing ocean blue hues laid on her sister and a perfectly raised eyebrow hid just about everything going under the surface.  

“You give me too much credit,” her voice was low, but the bitterness and anger were there. She didn’t consider many things to be low, even for her, but part of her liked that her sister thought she had any kind of moral compass. Still, she really wanted to tell her what had happened. Why she had acted the way she did. Why she had been kicked out of the movie. More than that, she wanted her reasons to be justifiable, when they were not. Maybe not to her, anyway. “I don’t mind it if you do, sure as fuck you have kinder words to say about me than any of the media outlets,” she shakes her head and takes the final drag of her second cigarette that night, “or any of your friend producers for that matter.”

Truth was, Ophelia had burned out. Years of being emotionally drained for most of her roles, taking on challenges and pretending surprises when she got nominated for another award had sucked her dry. She had never taken a time off. She was prolific. Her list of movies was miles long and her awards adorned the shelves of her home. What would happen if she didn’t want to do it anymore? She didn’t question her director’s choice, kicking her out had been the right thing, she would have brought the whole project down, but no one would do it better than her. She was certain critics were going to miss the flavor she brought to the screen.  

As she dove into her thoughts again, silence fell between the two of them. As usual there were many things that would be left unsaid. She wanted to get out of there, but she was far from ready to go back inside and mingle with the rest of the family, so she finally took her spot. Fingertips grazing the name she had carved on the iron chair she was sure her mother would have managed to have it painted over by now. “How are my nieces and nephew? Laur sent me a text saying she would be staying in Los Angeles the whole summer, is that true?” A change in topic seemed safe enough for a civil conversation and the kids were the best way to keep them both level headed, especially given their current setting.

Everything about this forgoing interaction, is tearing her apart. It’s evident the ghost in the mere distance away suspects the worst out of Olive. In contrast, the faintly younger twin sees the other as her bloodline and someone who has the potential to repair the damage of the last forty years of their parent’s iron fist. It brings an acidic taste to her mouth. They may look similar: four identical oceanic hues stare at the other, two starking auburn locked women with two vastly different outlooks of the other.

And she knows precisely where and how they ended up here ─ their mother, Helena ─ suspecting the competition should be amongst themselves rather than other girls in their grade.

It had never been painless for Olive to witness the specific favoritism her family had toward Ophelia. Others would’ve actively sought out their attention by rebelling by stealing their parent’s brand new vehicle or effortlessly throwing tantrums during lavish gatherings, but the other auburn-locked girl always observed from the sidelines. Quiet as a mouse. Accepting the fate that ended up in her lap. Always sitting in the unpleasant chair in the living room, witnessing her twin get drilled for hours in preparation for this upcoming role and how it could cause her to inch closer to her goal. Truthfully, she didn’t know what Ophelia’s goal was, to begin with, but all Olive knew was that these hours of observations wouldn’t end anytime soon. It secretly was Helena’s way of torturing her other daughter for having no interest in being an actress.

Their parent’s form of parenting was absorbed and unnecessary. At a point in their lives, neither of the twins knew this behavior radiating off of their parents was toxic and the reason why neither twin can stand to be in the same room as the other. Especially not for a prolonged period because Olive always expects the worst to escape from her sister’s mouth. That’s how fucked up their parents were to them. They’re the reason why she wants them to have minimal connection to their grandchildren because a cavernous hole in her body suspects they’ll try to corrupt the youngest two, Palmer and Bailey. Laurel and Phoebe are old enough to call their own shots with the Van Doren’s. But the youngest two are unaware of what Olive has gone through. Thankfully, they’ll never have to endure the worst because Preston always stood firmly beside and had voiced his own concerns about his in-laws.

Though, knowing better than to see her twin as her enemy, any harbor she carried for the Van Doren’s ─ and she had quite a few toward those who brought her into this world ─ was tucked away into a box deep and far away. Rarely spoken about, mainly in the safe space with Preston when all of the kids were sound asleep or in therapy. Otherwise, the charming and carefree persona that Olive wears around them is authentic. But sometimes, there’s a wave of memories that find her once again, and all of the things she’s endured over the years due to her surname aches her whole. It gets too much all too often. Yet, she’s the optimistic halfwit that believes her family will change the way they’ve acted over the years, and tonight, she’s starting to see things distinctly more than ever.

It isn’t too late for her to go down to the local court when returning to Los Angeles and request paperwork for a chance of surname. Only five years behind time to become a Thomas. It’s only a matter of time until the rest of her bloodline starts to figure out the plan and all of the efforts to help her abandon the thought from prospering further. However, enough has been enough. She’s hasn’t been the best role model to Laurel, although she’s constantly working on it. As for Phoebe, while she’ll never fill the spot of her birth mother, Olive knows her step-daughter watches with careful optics. Lastly, Palmer and Bailey have an entire future ahead of them. One that can be successful on their own terms and without a powerful surname behind them, getting them through the ranks. All her mind could fixate itself on is the latter ─ becoming a Thomas is her only destiny, and she has to thank the glacial sight of her sister’s presence to bring her further to this decision.

“Ophe ─” Silvery tone jumps into the discussion mercilessly for the first time in what must’ve been like hours. In reality, the time has only passed by five minutes, but anytime she’s around her counterpart, time moves at a ticking speed. Some would prefer it. Whereas the others, Olive in this scenario, can’t stand to beat around the inevitable bush. “I’m going to be honest here,” she takes a cavernous inhale, shaking the loose curled locks, “I know mom made us out to be enemies when we were younger, but I don’t understand why it would benefit me to spread any gossip about you around town.” A second to nibble on her lower, coated petal before realizing it’s a ditch that’s been buried, so why not carry it further? “To come off the high and mighter Van Doren? I could care less about that. The reason why I give you credit because even if we aren’t close, I’m still going to love you and root for you. I’m not your enemy and will tell you this profusely.”

Truthfully, she needed to just say it. It’s as simple yet as complex as that.

“And whatever my producer friends have to say, does not define what I think or what I feel about your current work situation, or you. So knock it off.”

But, the auburn-locked woman concluded nothing else needed to be said on that topic front. Not unless her sister manages to reciprocate and wants to spare any details. The latter will be unlikely since they have been on nothing but opposite sync waves since their early teens. If now, of all circumstances, manages to bring them together, then why couldn’t they have mended the wounds earlier? They were old enough to make decisions without feeling the constant need to please their parents. Of course, they always will because they never received the love in the form of a comforting embrace or a kiss on the top of their forehead. The Van Doren parents’ love language built expectations and belief that others envied the world they live in.

Lingering in their unbearable stillness, perhaps this indicated the end of the discussion between them. Indeed they’ve had other conversations that lasted longer than this one. It allowed pleasantries to drift through them and keep their distance until one of them decided to break the moment and go in. She expected Ophelia to say nothing further and endure the misfortune roaming around in their childhood estate; questions about Olive’s family came one after another. Authentic concern about Palmer and Bailey after forever, which warm her heart because someone acknowledges their presence without Preston or herself bringing them up. Although, what she didn’t know is Laurel exchanging with her aunt about returning to Los Angeles. It brought astonishment upon her natural, never exaggerated features, for the first time in forever.

A forced laugh slips from her lips, grateful for the dim light residing in the backyard as she shifted weight from one hip to the other. “Oh, one question after another I see,” Olive says collectively to dismiss the fact she did not know her own daughter would be in Los Angeles longer than planned. Not that it would ever bother her because she loved having a whole house. But, of all people, she had to hear it from her twin. “Palmer and Bailey are kicking our asses. Always making sure to keep us on our toes and finding new things to flush down the toilet.” One day, it had been Olive’s iPhone 11. The next day, they found the remote. It was an evergoing process, but a part of her hopes they grow out of these habits soon because all of the items they dispose of have begun to add up. “As for the girls, Phoebe is going to Paris at the end of September for an apprenticeship with her company. If it works out, then she might stay there permanently, but I’m glad she has this experience to enjoy and hopefully travel a bit without Preston hovering over her.” As for her other daughter? There’s an interlude as she clears her throat, “And yes, she’s coming home. I’m sure she’d love to see you since she missed out on this weekend.”

Blake cannot remember how their last 4th of July was like, but they guess it was probably fighting with their ex over how they couldn’t spend it with their daughter and proceeding to get blissfully numb at some fancy party anywhere other than Catalina. If they think hard enough, they could come to the conclusion that the last few 4ths they remember were the ones where she was carrying Sawyer and before her first birthday, while they were still breastfeeding. Sawyer had constantly been their guiding light and they would never be sorry enough for losing touch with reality for so long that they ended up losing one another.

The more they proved people they were serious about their sobriety this time — always keeping their sobriety chips close to them, reminding and grounding them on what was important — the more they felt the ones closest to them putting their faith back on them. There wasn’t much that Blake remembered during their lowest times, but they did remember the look on other people’s faces when they found out they had been at it again. They were a frail thing when they were forcibly put into rehab the last time, and it had been a game changer, but being close to death and close to losing everything they once cared for, didn’t mean cravings wouldn’t happen. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t be tempted on their darkest days. Didn’t mean they wouldn’t feel like putting the substances above their loved ones. Just meant that they were going to try harder at battling their demons, they needed to.

Spending this 4th with their best friend, feeling cozy and comfortable in their living room and just enjoying each other’s presence, movies and fireworks playing in the background, seemed like the perfect way to go. Blake was sure that at some point, they would be able to finally feel confident and comfortable enough to party with Cleo the way they used to — not entirely the way they used to — but right now, she was happy in having just that. There was a lot to say about the friendship they sustained. A lot to be happy about and to be thankful about. Blake hardly thought they would be there if not for Cleo. They were both successful, each in their own manners, but somehow they managed to still need each other a lot, something Blake hardly ever complained about.  

It was funny how they knew each other enough to detect emotions in ways people surrounding them for years wouldn’t, so the obvious strain in Cleo’s voice made Blake reach out and squeeze her shoulder in assurance. “I’m sure that wherever your mind takes you, you’ll be wildly successful, which is only half fair to the rest of us, you know?” Blake always took it very seriously her job of uplifting Cleo, it was something they did effortlessly.

They follow their best friend up to her terrace and Blake always needs to take a moment and inhale. Their best friend’s terrace is probably one of their favorite places in the world. Great view of the island, from the mainland to a section of the water body surrounding them. Made them feel small and big at the same time, it was hard to pinpoint the feeling. Many memories of theirs had that terrace seen. From drunken stupors, to sober tears of extreme sadness. It was like it was their spot almost. Theirs and Cleo’s. Where they came to run away from the outside world and enjoy each other’s company. Where they poured their hearts out for one another without holding back. Where they celebrated their achievements and mourned their losses. It might have been where Blake spent most of their time actually sober when outside of a movie set. That particular place meant a lot, which was yet another reason for them to remind themselves momentarily why it wouldn’t be healthy to move in with Cleo, not right now anyway.

Taking a seat next to the other blonde, Blake takes a piece of Parmigianino from the board and pops it in her mouth, letting Cleo talk without interruption as they smile at the painfully obvious glint behind her eyes. It can be said that they are both unlucky at love in their own ways. With Cleo having a string of men who took her for granted and Blake completely obliterating their last relationship with Sawyer’s father, it was nice to see that childish look in their best friend again, it almost gave them hope. They had yet to meet the infamous Gabriel Livingston. He was famous in his own way, but there was nothing Blake hated more than the prospect of enduring any kind of sports match, which was the reason why she had refused Cleo whenever she invited them to go with their family to any, which was also the reason why they had probably failed to see Gabriel Livingston one-on-one.  

Still, they couldn’t help the smile on their lips while Cleo spoke, their head shaking once she was done and a small chuckle falling from their lips. “You got it bad,” they pointed out, almost feeling like they were teenagers again and telling each other about their first crushes. “Ok, first, of course I’m gonna be there, anything that’s important to you, is important to me,” Blake stated the obvious, they wouldn’t even need a chaperone, just hoping that they could keep their mind leveled while people drank and had their fun around them. It was funny, they never had any problems with alcohol, but since recovery had started, Blake was seemingly attracted to anything that could give her any numbness.

“Second, you got it bad,” the blonde repeated with a chuckle, shaking their head again, “I do doubt they’ll all be fawning over him, from what you sent me, all the pics were pretty damn hot, but you are definitely the hotter out of the two. Want me to call him and see if he agrees with me?” Blake teased with a wiggle of their eyebrows, they didn’t even know Gabriel’s phone number, surely, they would have to find out soon. Give him the best friend talk, maybe? That was unlike them, but with how much Cleo’s heart had been broken in the past, it was almost needed. “So, what’s the hold up? Is he gonna be asking you out on a date soon, or not? I mean, you have been “hanging out”,” Blake uses air quotes, “for a while now and the sexual tension is pretty obvious for anyone who wants to see, but I mean, it’s time, Cleo, it’s time for some action. If he doesn’t ask you out soon, I’m having a deep conversation with him.”

It was just another holiday season.

Another reason people get inebriated and for all of their logic to fly right out of the window. Almost like this holiday, in particular, since Cleo’s never been one to be over-the-top with the fourth of July, seems to make her skin. Perhaps for the reason that she’s a rock and an ally alongside her best friend during the latest journey of becoming sober. Or, which seemingly could be the rooted cause, she despised her mother’s attempts to come off as patriotic only to show off to those on the isle or come off better than what she is. Either of the cases, both that fail to go hand-in-hand but have an impact on the platinum blonde, makes her grateful to have an evening of stillness and observations rather than being in the center of the action ─ which she knows that Blake is working their way to returning to showing face to the nightlife and to withhold the power of their addiction causing their progress to tick back to zero.

In retrospect, the last attempt she had going out and enjoying the bustling night atmosphere made her desperate to get home. Her sense, and growing age, made her realize the club life failed to capture her interest. In the beginning, right around when she was legal and able to get into establishments with her fake ID, the strobing lights felt like this life is everything she’s been missing out on. Years, life experiences, and different dynamics taught her that going out was just to show face to the paparazzi and those sitting on the edge of their seat waiting a mess up since any headline was a headline. But, unlike the companion opposite of her now, Cleo knew when to detach herself from the hustle and bustle. If she wasn’t up for it, then there would be no point for her to play a facade (even if it meant more people would like her). And if she was up for something, then she’d do everything in her power to be the center of attention. Though, more often than that, especially with age and realization that it became exhausting to be a headline, she retrieved to evenings like such.

It would also benefit the others battling an addiction that Cleo knew nothing about but support them endlessly. Of course, her entire life could’ve swaddled around her best friend, but it never felt like a chore to her in changing plans or adapting. The bond both of the women established amongst each other has gone through too much to be severed. Life was too short to be inebriated to the point of memory loss or a day full of sunglasses perched on the bridge of their noses. There was a child ─ Cleo’s goddaughter ─ stuck in the middle of these slip-ups. So, if it meant she had to adapt to bettering the other by having these evenings, which she preferred the stillness and the company of the two of them over a hundred, then so be it. She promised Blake many years ago that their dynamic will get through everything and anything.

And she, remarkably, missed seeing the sight of Sawyer in her arms gazing lovingly at her with interlaced astonishment like Cleo was the best person in the world. The presence of the pure and innocent optics upward made her believe that if, and whenever, her time to be a mother came in the form of on multiple pregnancies test, that would be thanks to the help and lessons she learned with Sawyer in tow.

They, since Blake and Cleo were always a team, would be reunited with Sawyer without supervision.

For now, the best friends have an evening ahead of them with a picturesque sight of the plethora of fireworks that will be launch in due time and food to shut up the sound of any stomach rumbling. It hadn’t been all of that long since they last saw each other ─ frequently communicating with through iMessage ─ but it’s evident they’d have a lot of discussions tonight. Few things surface level, whereas other more gripping content, the blooming dynamic between Cleo and Gabriel, that will eventually become the talk of the town once other’s find out they’re making an effort to date each other, especially after his famous heartbreak at the alter.

Nestled in comfortably in the outdoor furniture pillows, the glass of lemonade finds her petals in a swift motion. The timing of her bringing the liquid to sip on, just as her best friend’s gashing response to apparent crush on Gabriel, comes as a welcome interlude. There’s no way she could dance around this subject and flat-out lie. She’s an appalling liar. After all, many people are frightened by Cleo because she said what she thought and felt without worrying about hurting someone else’s feelings. Undoubtedly it came with a reputation that she’s unapproachable. Still, Blake will see right through the lies or any attempts to mask any expressions wanting to slither to the surface of her features in denial.

Instead, a composed sight of the blonde relaxes after all of the words from her behalf slipped into the atmosphere, and Blake’s responses rung profusely in her ear canal. Her lips part from the rim of the glass before heaving a sigh, intensity unlike the other has ever heard before, as oceanic optics stare directly at the other. “I feel like a fucking schoolgirl,” Cleo straights up with features inching together, setting the glass down and hands intertwining with themselves, “Every time I see him, I just want time to stop, and I want to be stuck with him in all of the moments. Like I always thought Gabriel was cute, long before he got engaged, but I never acted on it since our paths crossed in limitations of association and support of the other.” Yet, it hadn’t stopped her from observing on the sideline in wonder. Nothing of the sorts of jealousy but admiration at the love, at the time, she thought would be everlasting.

She, of all people, has a chance of winning over a heart of a man that’s the hottest bachelor to hit Catalina Island in years.

“It’s like……” Outwardly thinking, there comes a halt in the blonde’s songbird falsetto as she forcefully causes digits to separate and a singular hand to run through her loose locks. It was challenging to find the equitable words t describe the pool of emotions she’s experiencing by being with Gabe and feeling away from him. “Fuck!” Is all Cleo says in an abrupt, aggressively at no one but herself. However, if there’s anyone who can understand the outburst of her favorite cuss words, she has everything to do with the moment. “I feel so much with him like.. to the point where I find myself growing so soft and mellow being around him,” she says softly, building up an explanation for them to understand, “Like no one, and you know this since you’ve seen my past shitheads, that no one has ever made me feel like I could be the luckiest woman in the world while growing soft and see things, life and falling in love, differently.”

When she mentioned trusting him, he glanced at her briefly. Trust was something Gabriel didn’t give away freely, not after Rebecca anyway. He hated that his mind went there, but it is almost inevitable. The comparisons arise before he can shut them down and not in one of them had Becca won over the astonishing woman to his right.

He is thankful of her trust, and when she says it out loud, he realizes that it is mutual, nods and smiles, ventures another kiss to her soft knuckles in appreciation. In the future, whatever it was that future held to them, he was glad to say that Cleo didn’t come into his life in a whirlwind almost in a hurricane-like manner, but matter of fact, she swept in quietly, always in the background, always there somehow, just as he was there too, until the photoshoot happened and changed things for them. He couldn’t quite pinpoint when their friendship had turned into something more in his mind, but he noticed her more. Her smile; her curves; the way she spoke both excitedly and intensely about everything and everyone she was passionate about; the way she never said no when he asked for her company; and the way that he started to be hopeful for more days with her. He spoke about it with Georgina, slightly scared of outing his feelings to Ava, simply because this was her sister he wanted to ask out, to pursue something with. As usual, his older sister fit on the guiding light role gracefully and didn’t let him down, pushing him to ask her, but never in a forceful manner. He didn’t make up his mind or had the guts to do it until their conversation about Billy, his other guiding light, always leading him to make the right decision despite the stick that often got stuck in his ass.  

Naturally, he didn’t want to come in full force. Gabriel had been reckless before, about relationships, about whatever led him to them. His mother told him, warily, that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t a bad thing either, Gabriel preferred that to be a cynical person. Being cynical wasn’t something he was a fan of. With Cleo he was barreling between cautious and out there, but never cynical when it came to their chances. They knew each other as friends, and he hoped as their intimacy grew over the time they would spend together, they would build something more. He was as honest and candid as he could, mostly, though, because whenever he reveled something about himself, it made the corner of her lips turn up in the most gorgeous smile. There were some things he still kept in, some things he wished could happen between them, but to err on the side of caution, he didn’t say them, the last he wanted to do was scare her over something that was not worth it.

He couldn’t help mirroring her smile when that was her reaction to things. He’d like to think that it means the date is going well, despite them spending their first part on a ferry. Gabriel never minded the ferry since he was born in Catalina and it seemed something so trivial among those who had done the same. Usually, tourists were the ones to fawn over the rides and how the sun made the water glisten and bring some sort of magical Californian air to it. On his traverses, Gabriel didn’t pay attention in the sun hitting the water anymore, or even the wind that made him secure even further his baseball cap on his head. That day, though, those were only signs that the day would go well. He knew he needed to take a lesson on what he had said to Cleo. He needed to do some letting go of control. Not to mention, that day, his undivided attention were on the blonde. Things were planned and if he got worried whether or not they would work themselves out, he might not get to enjoy the date himself.

Especially when it was easy to see that they were so in tune with each other.

Giving a light squeeze on her hand once their fingers were intertwined, he couldn’t help the playful roll of his eyes that came at her request. “Two seconds into the date and you’re already trying to take control of this damn thing?” He was joking, and that much was easy to see, if not by the playful tone in his voice, then by everlasting smile on his lips. By now he was already sure that his cheeks would be hurting by the end of the day. “But by all means, who am I to deny anything to the birthday girl? On her birthday and every other day of the year?” He said before setting up the car alarm with a push of the key buttons and putting the key on his pocket, grabbing the bags of food from the roof of the car where he had put them previously and pulling her along to her desired spot.

These were the little things he wanted to learn about Cleo as the day progressed. They were already so embedded into each other’s lives; one would think there was nothing to learn anymore. He was proven wrong, however, because there was always something interesting to learn about Cleo. Her favorite spots, what made her laugh so hard there were tears in her eyes, what made her tickle, what made her eyes bright. On one hand, he thought he should have asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday, it would have been the sensible option, but there was a part of him that wanted to give her a taste of what he would do, had them had the chance to celebrate each other’s birthdays for years to come. Jesus, he couldn’t believe he was thinking about years already. As they walked among the people of Catalina, many used to see them, Gabriel was glad that their clothes were muted enough that they were not drawing attention to themselves. He was also slightly thankful that the ads for the perfume weren’t decorating billboards across the island and across the city, because it would sure as hell be interesting to try and go out incognito.

Gabriel was setting himself up for disaster, any time, but hoped it didn’t come. Their day would be busy, but they would be able to sit down and talk if they chose to, but all in all, he just wanted to give Cleo a birthday to remember, after all, among all the people she chooses dear to her heart, she had chosen him to spend the day with and he sure as hell wouldn’t give her back before the sun was all the way down. It didn’t take him much time to get them to the top deck. The ride he had chosen was early enough to have gathered a few people, but not too early that those commuting to work were taking it too. Another thing to be thankful of. Seemed like, so far, things were having a way to be on their side and he wasn’t going to ask for anything more. “So,” he turned to her once they got there, eyebrow neatly raised behind his black framed Wyafarers, “where is this spot I should know about?”

In the stillness of Cleo’s admittance of trusting him, does the platinum blonde feel a wave of reassurance that he accepts the potency of the words. The expression inching over his features, what might look like a blank stare or a mimicking sight of deer in headlights, would’ve petrified her had it been anyone else on the opposing end. Not only is it not frequent that such words escape from her ziplocked trap, having taught herself how to choose her words with the utmost value to avoid people coming near and to get the message clear, but she finds everything different with Gabriel. There’s a side of her, that Cleo does believe died a long time ago, crawling to the surface.

She’s not the kind of person to necessarily live on the edge with romance. By no means has she ever displayed a sight of her being a hopeless romantic. Nor is she a Livingston, who was taught from an age (perhaps since they were growing in the womb), that they’d enter this world and be surrounded by a plethora of love from the numerous aunts, uncles, grandparents, and so forth. Part of her thinks, just maybe if Evelyn and Arthur’s parenting habits had been different, then Cleo could understand the sensation of wearing your heart on your sleeve ─ something she’s seen in the Livingston and has even heard the remark escape from his mouth. Though, it’s only something she can observe and realize the shortcoming from her parents, in the capacity of love, has made her a barricade for one too many years.

However, it doesn’t mean that she thinks she couldn’t turn into a hopeless romantic. It just only took the right partner to come around and for her to realize life wouldn’t make sense without them. She knows it’s way too early to think of such a statement in connection with Gabriel. Although, sitting here in the presence of his gaze and all of his efforts, the uncontrollable beating sensation that pounds against her chest cavity tell her to leap the leap and be careless. He had done it once before with Rebecca, and she knows enough about the prior woman, to understand he’ll come off with dubiety whether to let someone in all of the way or if the time isn’t right. But, Cleo knows that she can take the dull by the horns and show him (unlike other boyfriends) that where things go, the blonde will fight and give him everything that he needs. If it’s reassurance? Hell, he can lay his head on her chest while her digits run through his dark locks as whispers affirmations part from her mouth. If he needs anything physical, the platinum blonde will have no issue declaring her love and feelings for him endlessly.

It’s nothing like she’s ever done before.

Yet, here is the young woman who was prepared to ready. In the past, the businesswoman believed that she would be that wine-drunk aunt watching as others achieved everything they wanted ─ a career, a happily ever after, dream home, children, and eternal happiness ─ as she let the opportunities slip through her digits. Even a rocket scientist to realize how much of an impact someone can make on you in a short time. It doesn’t take centuries or decades to recognize when someone is meant for you. It can come within a nanosecond to the man to her left when both took time after their initial work meeting to eat lunch at Bluewater Avalon. Her heart leaped and scream at the same time (what a peculiar combination, but she felt the commotion in her chest), as her pupils became dilated to the companion a mere distance away as a whisper rolled into her ear declaring: this is it, he could be your home.

So, now, even what may come off as a cloud of birthday emotions since the day always brings a high to the surface, a vivid blush of pink crept upon the apples of her cheeks. Rather than allowing him to see the impact his whole commentary made on her, which would be hard considering she looked like a lobster, oceanic hues force themselves to look elsewhere as her face bunches together. Only Gabriel could say these comments and make her feel like the luckiest woman in the world. There’s that chance he used these precise words in the past with Rebecca. But she doesn’t think about it. Not today since it’s her birthday, and Cleo won’t allow a ghost from the past to bring any worry. Or insecurity, for that matter, which she does get insecure as any human being would.

“Shut up,” It comes out playfully, all too saccharine in its tone to come off as offensive. Although she isn’t the kind of person to find the latter emotion, it’s usually others who get wounded by her gashing approach to them or the scenario they included her in. “You know…” Falsetto cuts her own self off to appreciate the moment, her optics diverting to him happily as her cheeks blaze with color. “That is probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” And it wasn’t a lie because frequently, she suspects her behavior and glacial approach to others daunts them from giving her a chance to warm up. “And if you keep saying those kinds of things, I might just fall in love with you because I know, as peculiar as it might be, that it’s insincere from your behalf,” she explains with a nibble on her lower lip.

Of course, she meant those remarks and hopes Gabriel knows the impact it has on her. But, there isn’t enough time for either of them to waste in this excursion to the mainland. Soon the ferry will be departing from port, and if they’re going to Los Angeles, only suspecting since it’s the common ferry to-and-from Catalina, then the pair needs to get on the move to her spot on the boat.

A firm tugs upon their intertwined digits, her other hand grips onto the coffee for dear life as the woman guides them up to the top deck. Cleo never quite understood why people sat inside during these expeditions. They were missing the sights dashing right by them because they were far too occupied with their device or in a book. Maybe they were exhausted from seeing the same cliff, bend of the ocean upon the pale cream sand, or dolphin jumping through the air to give them a show. Though, it never bored her while plenty of things have in the past. She always knew where to be grateful. Whether it came in an opportunity that came her way, a friendship, or a picturesque sight that she calls home, she’ll take minutes to indulge in it because one day, she won’t be here, and everything would’ve been a what-if.

Just as they neared the top of the ferry, her steps plant themselves against the deck as her hand holds onto Gabe’s for dear life. It’s the ideal time to inhale the fresh saltwater lingering around them and how fresh it smells ─ just like the smell of linen fabric softener when you pass by someone else’s house. It always fills her nostrils and brings her to a place of contentment, even if everything else is far from okay. “Wait, hold on,” Delicacy courses through her tone, catching an upward glance at him. “It’s a part of the experience and where I’m going to take you next, alright? I promise it’s worth it or else, I wouldn’t have thought about sharing with you.” What she doesn’t tell him is that no one, not even her sister, knew about this bench spot on the ferry that surprisingly stole her heart about seven years ago. “I trust you, you trust me, and it’s heaven,” she finalizes with the last inhale of the salt chuck before proceeding to their destination.

It takes about them fifty steps, those she’s counted on a deflating trip to the mainland a year and a half ago, to arrive at the bench on a quaint side of the ferry. Rarely does this area gets inhibited by patrons over the times she’s been going and leaving. It’s for those who want to indulge, be with themselves, or share it with someone special. After all, it’s called the iconic Catalina Ferry Love Bench for a reason, with dates going all of the back to the early 2000s. It’s a homage that generally wouldn’t have caught her attention since love and Cleo hadn’t mixed for years. But, every time she went to Los Angeles, the blonde found herself sitting on the seat in a peculiar uniformity with the couples that declared their lasting love in permanent marker.

Maybe one day, her initials would be on there with her true love.

“Here we are,” Cleo says with an extended hand, showcasing her bench on the boat for both of them to sit down and enjoy their trip. “I found it a year and a half ago. I had a shitty business day in Los Angeles, and I didn’t know to want to be in that god-forsaken city for a moment longer. So, I came right down to the marina and got on the boat with a couple of minutes to spare.” For the first time since intertwining her hands with his does she part, walking toward the tattered bench with initials everywhere. “And I found this. I call it the Catalina Ferry Love Bench.”

It should be illegal to wear something so simple and look so good.

Gabriel had to do his very best to keep his comments in, but couldn’t help when his eyes traveled her body. Surely something she was used to. He remembered being awkward during the photoshoot, not really knowing what to do and where to go, especially being half naked. Cleo was the same, but she was shameless and comfortable. The stark opposite of him and he didn’t complain, because every once in a while, he managed to steal some of her confidence to himself and put on his best model face, or whatever that meant.  

They had obviously come a long way from the kids who knew each other, to the newfound friends who hung out quite possibly more than friends should. Right now, as she got in the car, it became glaringly obvious that being just friends wasn’t going to cut it. Not for him. Not when he wanted to kiss her upon sight and only didn’t because he wasn’t sure if that was proper first date etiquette. Something in him knew that first date etiquette would soon be thrown out the window, because he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold himself back much longer. He dared to say that the apprehension he was feeling now, was completely different from the one he felt on his first date with Rebecca, especially because with Cleo, there was the comfortability of years of being around one another— it was better. Much better.  

Watching her as she got comfortable in the black Wrangler, he closed the door and put his forearms on the open window, narrowing his eyes as if he was pensive. “Nah, I don’t think that I’m going to give you any hints, today you’re just going to have to let go of control.” Somehow, he was aware of how difficult this would be for her, but he had some faith that their itinerary would benefit them both and make up for a good birthday for the blonde. “We’ll eat, though, I can give you that.” He said with a push off the car before rounding it and slipping into his seat. Today he was going to take a sip of her confidence and show her that he hadn’t invited her because he wanted to test something, he was sure that if she let him, he would be do a lot more of this. Putting the car into gear and on the streets of Catalina, he reached for the console, setting Spotify in a generic playlist before reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers, bringing her knuckles to his lips and placing a soft kiss there.

“So, how did the birthday start? Georgina said she was going to send you something, even though I told her I’d be taking you away for the whole day, but you know Georgie, she was adamant about letting you know she would never forget your birthday,” he smiled, taking a quick look at her before his eyes settled back on the road ahead of them. Telling Georgina, he was going to man up and invite Cleo out for a date was one thing, but actually doing it meant that she was in full date mode, helping him arrange everything, even though he made sure to tell her they didn’t need to go overboard. Much like himself, he believed the last thing Cleo needed on her birthday was yet another fancy place to go. A 5-start dinner or lunch followed by an impromptu trip wherever else. No. The only thing he wanted to make sure he did, was to keep the gorgeous smile on her lips and hopefully kiss her silly during the date. He could already see the next day’s gossip blogs, probably already putting them in a serious relationship. It was the one downside of being in public the entire day, but he wouldn’t let it put a damp in his plans.

“I like your bangs by the way, did I say this already?” He added nonchalantly.

Thankfully traffic in Catalina had never been cause for trouble, and their ride to the ferry was both quiet and enjoying. It had been a while since Gabriel had just been quiet in his car with someone. He was honestly more than ready to just make good memories inside vehicles again while driving, to block out the thought of both Billy’s and his accidents. Soon enough he was in line for the next ferry and he eyed her, a bit nervously, because now that they were in the ferry, it just meant that the date was officially a go. Soon enough he was parking his car among others and getting out of the car, rushing to the other side so he could open the door to Cleo, because that’s just the way his mother taught him. “We’re here— well, not here because our date won’t be in the ferry boat, but it’s the start,” he said with a nervous smile, lifting his cap for a minute while raking his hand through it, tugging it at the back. Gabriel opens the back door of the car and takes two to-go bags with their morning breakfast he had picked up earlier.

“I hope it’s okay we’re not stopping at a coffee shop for breakfast, I thought it would maybe be better to enjoy it on the boat?”

For a lax day upon them, both wearing shorts and attire that would help them avoid glances from fans or attempt paparazzi wherever they end up going, these two still looked like a million bucks.

Million bucks apart. Million bucks together. Almost like these two coordinated their attire bright and early this morning to look like a couple ─ though they are nothing of the sorts yet. Nonetheless, the observation of his look dances in her oceanic hues as she thinks he’s attractive in all clothing choices he makes. Though, there’s something about Gabe wearing a baseball hat, forward or backwards, that has her weak in the knees. It’s a form of protection from the sun. But, if they were to kiss in a public vicinity, it’s the form of shielding that will allow them to have a moment alone while the entire world bustles around them.

Oh God, the fact that she’s thinking about kissing him and how much she wants to snakes her arms around his neck to never slip away from her must be abnormal.. right? It’s not like anyone in her past ever made her feel this exhilarated, yet breathless in the same sentence. Not like she wants to continue to compare Gabe to anyone in the past because her prior boyfriends, in the nicest terms possible, were all a bunch of assholes and unworthy of her attention. Perhaps at one point, specifically when Cleo was healing from her car accident and losing her whole dream of being a ballerina, did she think she should just find someone. Though, rapidly, she learned this isn’t the case. If anything, she deserved the entire world and more. Someone who would bend backwards for her (just like she would do them, not physically or else pain will shoot through her spine), someone who brings out the best side of her and who will love her profusely.

Someone like Gabriel.

No correction, Gabriel, is the only man that she could have eyes for and made her realize within a short span of time that her countless time fixed on her work deserved to be shared with a lover.

But, while it is merely on their first date and Cleo knows better than to get ahead of herself, the fondness finds her gracefully. Sitting there next to him in his Wrangler, not even bothering to diver her attention on the familiar sights of Catalina around them, when the sight of him was so much better. “You know,” Humming, the blonde twists the petite frame in his direction while a single arm rests on the center console, “Letting someone else take control is really hard. This is why I run a businesses so no one else can tell me what to do.” Which was an obvious statement considering all that she has managed to achieve on her own. However, the fact Gabe already knows her well enough and is willing to acknowledge what she’s like brings a reassurance to what their day entails. Still, as she takes a moment to catch her breath, Cleo now nibbles on her lower petal before saying. “But I trust you. A lot. I’m ready for everything you have planned for me, which it means a lot you’re spending the day for me,” she finishes with a smile.

Just as the last of her words escape into the compact surroundings of the vehicle, Spotify melodies playing throughout the Wrangler, the feeling of his hand in hers and his petals against her sunkissed skin sent fireworks through her. Illumination occupies her expression gracefully, wondering if he could tell by the way her hues twinkle up at him that his actions are making such an impact on her. Slowly, but surely, falling further as the seconds pass. “Well, since I didn’t want to be late meeting you, there were a bunch of bouquets outside of my apartment,” she says in a saccharine falsetto, hues still fixed upon him, “So one of Geo’s gifts might be there when I return. It is sweet that she thought of sending me anything, to begin with.” Almost like the Livingstons were spoiling her left and right, as if they knew this date was happening or merely out of the kindness of their heart. However, she knows this family’s intentions have always been pure from the get-go. “But, I’ll worry about later. You have my undivided attention today.”

Which was the honest truth. It’s a challenge to put into words right now on how much his presence means to her. Of course, from the way her breath hitches down to the way her optics fixature themselves on him, gives an indiciated that Cleo is all in. She adores the fact that today will be different than what her birthday usual consists of ─ lavish birthday parties in theme, dinner at the best restaurant on the isle or in Los Angeles, or drinking to the point where she regrets everything. Instead, today she’ll be in the moment and alert like no other. Patient, curious in what’s going to happen next, observing him from a mere distance as he controlled the entire day with a vast beam.

His proceeding words fill her heart further, gently squeezing their interlocked digits. “Once or twice before, but I like you saying it again,” she says with a wink, “Not because it’s my birthday but it’s sincere coming from your mouth.” The same mouth that she’s been watching carefully, witnessing the way his mouth corners upturn themselves to the prettiest sight that her hues ever laid their eyes on. Alas, she keeps these internal thoughts to herself, still staring at him like there’s no tomorrow. “It may be my birthday but you look handsome and deserve to hear it too,” Cleo says, not forgetting her manners at all from all of the nanny’s that entered her life. This was the closest connection to a mother that she’s ever had.

And because of her laser focus, it takes her a moment to realize they are returning to the mainland of California. If it hadn’t been for the sight of the vehicle in a parked position and Gabriel running from his side to her’s, the platinum blonde would’ve remained in the heart-eyed trance that consumed her like there’s no tomorrow. It takes her a moment, or two, to realize it’s time to get out of the car and wander around the ferry with Gabe beside her. “Even if our date was on the ferry, I would love it.” Her petite frame and height exits the vehicle gracefully with his help but being eager for the breakfast that resides in his one hand. Though it seems like it’s her chance to pull a move on him, allowing her hand to slip into his free one gracefully. “This is perfect, Gabe,” Cleo reassures, willing to prove to him today is going to be spectacular since he’s the one she’s spending the day with, “Does this mean we can sit on the top deck of the ferry? It’s my favorite spot since I like to look at the surroundings and just get lost.”

However, Cleo already knows that she won’t look at Catalina growing minuscule in the distance. Her optics will be on him every moment that seemed possible.

“I have this spot that I’ve never shared with anyone else before and I want you to be the first.”

VERSE : Catalina WHO :  Gabriel Livingston & Cleo Halliwell ( @jessicarcthes​​ ) WHERE / WHEN :Starting outside of Cleo’s home.

It had been solid months since Gabriel had last been seen on a date and he remembered the last one sorely. It was a blind one, set up by one of his friends and disastrous couldn’t even begin describing it. He had been far from being ready to getting back out there ( for the lack of a better word ) and it showed. Not to mention that his companion couldn’t be less interested in him, his wallet, however, she had been crazy about. It made him miss Rebecca. Well, not her exactly, but how easy things had fallen into place with them. It made him wonder if he would ever have the chance on having something similar, or even completely different but that somehow would fit.

Asking Cleo out had made him nervous in ways he had absolutely no idea he would be. It wasn’t like they were completely strangers by the time he got some courage and popped her the question, but he guessed that the seed of doubt would always be there, in the back of his mind, waiting to sprout at even the smallest of opportunities. Nevertheless, her wholeheartedly agreement was a breath of fresh air, especially when she admitted she had been thinking about it as well. Gabriel didn’t expect the suggestion of the date, however, nor he believed that she wouldn’t have anyone to spend her birthday with, but alas, it just meant that he needed to make the date that much more special.

Since they wouldn’t have the chance to hang out properly prior to the date, due to some unforeseen circumstances on Gabriel’s part and an impromptu trip he had to make to the main land for some medical evaluation, he kept contacting her. Calling her, texting her, oddly, yet pleasantly surprised on how nothing had really changed despite having admitted their interest on one another went beyond the simple friendship they’ve been having until now. He quizzed her about some things, like what would someone who had everything wanted for her birthday, also trying to steer her away from what they would actually do. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on one’s perspective, he was more than prone to going all out and with the time on his hands, he would hardly do something meaningless on a meaningful date, such as her birthday.

Once the week had finally arrived, he started giving her small clues on what was happening. She was aware that he would probably have her the whole day and that their date would start with a breakfast on the ferryboat. For everything to happen smoothly, he had pulled some strings here and there and conferred with the two people he trusted most in the world: Georgina and Gabby. Both who actually thought he was doing a good job on this whole date thing.

On the morning of their date, Gabriel could admit to being slightly nervous. He double checked with the people who would help him along, but tried not to stress out at the lack of response, after all, it was early in the morning. He went out for a run and by the gym quickly so he could breeze through the exercises the physical therapist had told him to do daily on his arm. He chose against wearing the sling, not wanting anything to interrupt him in case he needed his right arm for something. He had already told Cleo to dress comfortably and advised her against wearing heels, to which she had laughed about, but still, he wanted to make sure. With the weather so nice out, Gabriel had chosen a black shirt, shorts and Nike’s on his feet, complimented by his trusted baseball cap he was pretty sure denounced him rather than hide his identity. Putting his things on his pockets, Gabriel took a look at the mirror and frowned at his poorly tamed hair and scruff. Should have probably done something about them, but after years of trying, he knew it was best just to let it be.

Finally, the man grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and fires off a text to Cleo, the third one that morning after already wishing her a good morning and happy birthday.

[ 09:05 — incoming from gabriel livingston ] leaving the apartment, be ready in 10, shouldn’t take me longer than that. [ 09:06 — incoming from gabriel livingston ] by the way, in case I didn’t say it, Mason and Archie wish a happy birthday.   [ 09:06 — incoming from gabriel livingston ]  *attached image* [ 09:06 — incoming from gabriel livingston ] see you in a few.

He had considered bringing a birthday present for her, but soon came to the conclusion it might be best to leave it to later, once they were done with their day. Before leaving, he texted Georgina, reminding her to come and take the dogs back to her place, her entrance on the building was cleared long before he fully moved there and even if it wasn’t, there was no doubt she had a key for whenever she needed to get inside and he wasn’t around. He left as soon as the texts were sent.

Now, he was still driving the Wrangler he had rented, but the better his arm got, the more confident he felt about being behind the wheel. Gabby had been right all along, if he had waited any longer to drive, his fear would have turned into a full-blown phobia, which wouldn’t bode well for him, especially since driving was something he actually enjoyed doing. The drive to Cleo’s place was only interrupted once to pick up the breakfast he had ordered, it wasn’t anything exaggerated, but they would definitely need their fuel for the day ahead of them. Other than that, the ride had been smooth and eventless, if things kept going the way they were going, Gabriel had no doubt the date would indeed be a success.

He parked right in front of her building, getting out of the car and going around it so he could lean on the passenger’s door, waiting for her to show up and that’s when his nerves kicked in again, though they subsided when he saw her and a smile immediately brightened his face. “Good morning to the birthday girl,” he greeted her. He didn’t know where the confidence was coming from, but he guessed it was because he felt comfortable and at ease with Cleo, the nerves were there, a bit below the surface, but they didn’t set in because of her, but because he wanted things to go the way he had planned them to.

Gabriel handed her the coffee and placed a kiss on her forehead before wrapping her in a birthday hug. “I could be sorry for waking you up early, but I’m really not, are you hungry?” He asked after letting her go, opening the passenger’s door for her to get inside the car.

For three hundred and sixty-four days, Cleo earnestly awaits for her day.

Okay, that’s a bit of a lie, considering that nearly every day is considered to be her day. However, it isn’t her birthday every single day of the year. There’s one special day that entails nothing but the royal treatment for the platinum blonde. That day always falls on July 28th ─ the cusp of the Leo season, but ideally, the only way to start the best zodiac season (her words, no one elses, of course).

Normally people would despise their birthdays, especially since it means they’re getting older and the sight of aging meant the thought of botox would start to cripple in their conscience. Though, this was never the case with Cleo. It was the single day when her parents paid an ounce of attention and didn’t show the love they have for their daughters through the act of spending. It didn’t mean that she disliked receiving a gift with a laborious price tag. It was always something she cherished, but the attention she sought after from a young age was fleeting.

Cleo knew as time went on and she began to make decisions for herself that spending time with her family became slim. After all, once her own voice began to make waves and challenge the matriarch named Evelyn Halliwell, it was challenging to be in the same room for longer than an hour at tops. But, a rare flicker of the past, the birthday girl once clung onto her parent’s celebratory love like it was the only thing that mattered to her.

But, things were constructively changing when it came to her. New, meaningful patron began to make way and settle themselves comfortably into her life: Ava, through the half-blood connection, Blake, through the sisterhood and the bound of understanding each other in silence, and recently, Gabriel, in the way he has made her feel so alive and loved that no other partner from her past has managed to do so. Three individuals, all different in how their relations connect them to Cleo, make her the luckiest woman in the world.

Gabriel, in particular, would be the first person to see her at the age of thirty-one. However, nothing has changed upon her demeanor or hair other than maintaining her bangs, but he already saw that, as he will also be the last person to see her before they went their separate ways. It was a bold move on her behalf. One for the reason being that she always had plans for her birthday. Second, is that he would be under pressure and have to think of an extraordinary plan to make her day nothing but the best. In retrospect, she didn’t care about having an adventure of any sort today. Truthfully, all she wanted was to spend her birthday, and their first date just lost in him ─ even if it meant they remained on the island and ate at Luau Larry’s. If he was there, in her eyesight, and giving her that infamous Livingston beam with the dimple indentation, it was the best gift a woman could ever ask for.

So when she rose at 9 am this morning and headed straight to her bathroom, her oceanic hues observed the sight of her iPhone and the overwhelming sight of messages. One, after another, did a notification appears. Some people, in which she thought disappeared off the planet, managed to reach out to her. Familiar faces like her sister and her best friend, Blake, were some of the few but always went over and beyond on her birthday to praise her existence. But it was the one person, the man she was going to occupy her whole day with, that captured her attention and made her open the notification instantaneously like a schoolgirl watching her crush walk in mathematics with a fresh haircut and the train tracks on top of his pearly white teeth.

[ 09:08 — incoming from cleo halliwell ] i will be ready. i may not look like a model, but you told me NOT to wear heels so you’ll get a very relaxed birthday cleo. [ 09:09 — incoming from cleo halliwell ] much more relaxed than when we took Mason and Archie for their walks those weeks ago. [ 09:10 — incoming from cleo halliwell ]  but enough about me heart eyes [ 09:11 — incoming from cleo halliwell ] LOOK AT THOSE BOYS!!! I miss them and will need you to give them a kiss from me [ 09:12 — incoming from cleo halliwell ] anyway, stop distracting me, i’m getting ready.

Swiftly, she brought her platinum locks into a high ponytail as a warmed-up flat iron awaiting her to adjust her trimmed bang locks. It took a couple of attempts of the heat to cause them to rest right where they needed to be. There’s the likelihood they’ll grow flat and ugly throughout the day but it’s a minor detail that she doesn’t seem to care about. What she did care about is being ready and on time for when Gabriel arrived. Typically, she was a hot mess, running late, and having no issue with making people wait for her charismatic presence to grace them. Except, she didn’t want to do that to him of all people. He could’ve said no to spending the entire day, specifically on her birthday, and had gone elsewhere.

So, it’s why Cleo spent the night prior picking out her outfit like a high-strung teenager ready for her first day of high school. Dressed in a pair of a freshly purchased white t-shirt and jean shorts, the birthday girl wore her trusted pair of Common Projects with a beige Longchamp backpack on her backside with a white ‘EOP’ embroidered baseball hat nearby if she needed to block away the sun or divert attention.

It took less than ten minutes to exit the bathroom and do a once over in the full-length mirror in her halfway that took her linear to the front door. There was no time left to do anything else, but not like she needed it either. The sun-kissed her complexion graced her over the last few weekends allowing her to be fresh-faced. Her legs were colored, so they stood out against the blue of her shorts. It felt, yet looked, like Cleo had these kinds of days often when she did not — let alone know what it felt to relax.

Either way, nothing else in her apartment kept her lingering around for a moment longer. Her phone resided on silent in her backpack. Her apartment keys were in the sturdy grip of her hand since she needed to lock up after herself. So, she slipped out from the apartment on the top terrace to catch a sight of bouquets awaiting her salute. Sadly, they’d have to wait, but someone else mattered.

Flying, or what the sensation felt like, the blonde opened the front door of her complex to the dazzling sight of her date. God, Cleo couldn’t believe that she was thinking this and could reference Gabriel as her date. Her mouth corners stretch merrily, feeling the rapid pick up of her heartbeat as she neared closer to him. “Why thank you,” Songbird falsetto greets, gently whipping her ponytail, “Normally, I don’t start my birthday morning until brunch, bottomless mimosas, but I like this a lot more.” Whatever they were doing, which she trusted his plan, more than anything.

As he passed her the cup of coffee, something in her realized that she was grateful because she would need this to function. But, she doesn’t indulge in the substance yet. Instead, her reflexes are instant and find a singular arm wrapping in return to his toned waist, still smiling as she felt like the luckiest girl in the world. “Hmm, you could do that more often,” Cleo whispers, primarily to herself, but considering how near they are, Gabe would’ve heard it either way. Slipping into the passenger seat of his Wrangler, the blonde lifted the cup of warm liquid to her lips and wondered why she swore off of coffee when this tasted so good. “God, yes please, I am ready to eat a whole plate or two of food. Are you going to give me a hint where we’re going or should I just let you surprise me?”

She almost can’t take it anymore. The night had been filled with thoughts that left her mind hazy and her throat dry, thirsty for something she couldn’t drink. Her conversation with her sister at the gardens had been swiftly interrupted by the call for dinner. The three-course meal dragged out with veiled insults and picks at where her career was now. Words like stagnant, fired and disgrace — the latter uttered gracefully by her grandmother — kept Ophelia at the edge of her seat, uncomfortable, wanting to leave, but not wanting to let them have a taste in her abrupt departure. Helena Van Doren always pried on weaknesses; it had been her M.O. ever since Ophelia could remember her grandmother’s antics. Questions had been made and deflected with some half-assed answers. Twice she almost reached for the bottle of wine resting at the end on the table where she sat on her father’s right, but she squeezed the linen napkin, leaving it utterly crumbled by the end of the night, clear evidence of the stress her family caused her.

The only times where she felt like she could breathe was when the conversation finally detoured to her sister, her family, her choices in life. Ophelia shouldn’t feel relieved that her womb mate was targeted, but for once, she hated the limelight on her. She always knew that Van Doren reunions were often an excuse to discuss the twins’ latest failures. However, the subject never lasted long on any of them. Benjamin and Ophelia’s lack of a wedding and rings on their fingers was constant subject to disapproval. Olive and Preston’s children’s choice to keep away from the family business also was. Every reunion made Ophelia come to the conclusion that happiness had never been in the cards for her when it came to her family, they just wanted them to follow a script and live their lives the way they were meant to, not the way they wanted to.

Conversation with them managed to be draining even when it was not about her or her sister. She couldn’t help the looks she spared towards Olive during dinner. It was almost as if they were begging each other for some kind of help, some kind of reprieve, but it never came. Relief did, though, when they had finally gotten through dessert. Ophelia was barely touched a earned an approving nod of her grandmother telling her in a less than subtle way that she was right in cutting off from sugar. She needed it. Soon they were up again, refusing coffee and any more drinks. “Our trip was long, we should be heading to the hotel, we’ll see everyone tomorrow.” The fact that their granddaughters didn’t have a residence in Charleston was also enough to make Helena’s nose twist to the side. Ophelia had come to the conclusion that nothing would ever be enough a long, long time ago.  

Her mother kept her inside for a few more minutes while Benjamin left. She wanted to keep him, but he was right to allow her to have some alone time with her family, even though she could care less about it. Her goodbye with Olive was awkward, but they would see each other the next day, there would be a social event at the Van Doren’s backyard, something about a charity event, she didn’t know, but she was specifically requested not to wear black. Her favoritism over dark colored clothes was another thing that didn’t go over her mother’s head, but she had packed something that was both going to make her mother proud and was completely the opposite of her. She shook her head at the thought of her mother’s approval, whenever she was close to her family, she was all the more inclined to need it.

Stepping outside and nearly rushing to meet Benjamin, Ophelia didn’t realise she was holding a breath until his arm circled around her waist and his lips were on her neck. Everything bottled up, everything being held in. If there was someone who could see right through her was that man right there. He always faced her family on like the bravest of soldiers, especially when they weren’t shy on their less-than-friendly regards towards him, which usually revolved around the fact that he had yet to ask Ophelia to marry him. Truth be told, marriage had been the last thing on her mind when he was close. They were already lifelong partners, Benjamin was unwavering at her side even when she tried to push him away with all of her might, they were tied together and hardly needed a piece of paper and the recognition of the government to share a life.  

She was also scared. She didn’t have the best marriage example, even though for the last 20 or so years of her life she had seen Benjamin’s parents together and strong. She was a Van Doren, though, and one could not escape the fate— she thought she already was escaping fate, or attempting to anyway, by not marrying him. Her heart was completely and undoubtedly his, that’s what mattered to her.  

Humming at the feel of him, Ophelia couldn’t help but sink into his embrace. “As good as you could expect it to,” she told him, looking at him for a moment before resting her head on his shoulders. She couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and get rid of those heels and uncomfortable clothes. She couldn’t wait to get out of those grounds which she was sure were deemed to suck the life out of her. “Awkward with Ollie, bitter with mom, disappointing with dad, angry with grandmother,” the red headed chuckles humorlessly, “I swear to God that woman doesn’t have a happy bone in her body,” her head shakes. “Mom reminded me not to wear black tomorrow, which part of me wants to, but I came prepared,” she points out and turns around in his arms until she can loop her arms around his neck, fingertips playing with his hair. Thankfully they were in safe enough distance that none of the Van Dorens residing in that house were come out and tisk at them for their displays of affection.  

“Around one, I think? It gives us time to go around town for a while or spend the day in bed,” she shrugged, having no preference, as long as he was there beside her. “I might have or might have not snuck a few more when you weren’t looking? I just don’t want to give them any more reason to complain, that’s all,” she pressed her lips together and sighed when she heard the sound of the valet finally parking their rental close to them. “Right now, I just really want to go back to the hotel and take these damn heels off and maybe bribe my handsome man to give me a rub and waste some time before sleeping,” she grinned at him, trying to uplift the mood. “What do you say?”

Benjamin is a patient man.

No, not in the circumstances of waiting an additional five minutes for his coffee order. Or in the capacity of waiting for a new series to get picked up. Perhaps even waiting for the Van Doren valet who seemed to be taking their sweet time to retrieve his vehicle from the infinite parking spaces this estate manages to have. It’s nothing of those scenario sorts.

But, in the occurrence of being around the Van Doren’s and how all of these years, he patiently waits for a glimmer of hope to prosper amongst his in-laws. Unlike Preston, in which he’s spoken to his fellow brother-in-law about, Benj has learned to handle his wife’s family like it’s an effortless task. Grandmonster is someone who frequently, yet fails to, get underneath his skin as his dazzling, straightened, pearly whites always flash toward his direction. He knows the woman is why the Van Doren’s are the way they are ─ obsessed with pleasing like there’s no tomorrow or salvaging a surname that would’ve died if either Olive or Ophelia changed their surname in marriage.

Though, his marriage with Ophelia isn’t bound and officially signed off by a judge in Los Angeles for the entire state of California. They’re in a way married ─ without the steps that Olive and Preston endured to throw a lavish gathering ─ but due to the reason, they’ve been together for well over a decade. Accordingly to their state, couples who have been together for ten years can consider themselves spouses, which is precisely what they do. A part of him suspects that if his wife ever wanted to stick it to the rest of the Van Doren’s, she’d change her surname.

It may never happen, but it doesn’t stop him from being patient with all of the things he wants with his wife: a family, a life of their own without someone ruling over them, and eternal happiness other than frequent shortcomings falling into their lap.

Surely, it won’t come tomorrow or in the next couple of weeks. But, there is where his patience comes into play because even if he wants certain things, specifically earlier in his life, to enjoy them without worrying about his growing age. He knows a plethora of light has to find them after what’s been currently happening. He just believes it. He is also reassured by his parents, believing in the universe sending them everything they’ve wished for.

However, he isn’t going to indulge in the thoughts anymore. He’s far too fixed on trying to mend the hole of his wife’s connection with her twin, but attempt to find a way for Ophelia to get back on one of his projects ─ though will cause an argument (he knows his wife too well) amongst them since this was his wife’s big break outside of what he’s produced and created. Benj looks after her because he loves his wife more than the world, not because it feels like a chore to him. Not once, in the twenty years of them being together, has he felt like he’s done a job of her hands-off parents but simply as a husband who would drop the world if it meant to see their partner smile authenticity for once in their life.

So while he stood waiting for the valet, patient as a monk who’s going through permanent silence, the male begins to prepare for the proceeding days with the Van Doren’s. He already knows, long before asking Ophelia, about what time they’re supposed to show face again that he’ll have to deal with grandmonster staring glacially at him. He already knows that Preston and he will find a still corner in the estate to discuss amongst each other everything they feel and how they need to meet up with one another. Perhaps, a part of him hopes to see Olive and Preston’s kids roaming around, so Benj can play uncle with them since this is the closest experience he’s going to have with children of his own ─ at least currently.

Thankfully, the melting sensation of his wife into his side makes everything that he’s currently worried about taking position onto the backburner. Chocolate orbs glimmer down at his beloved as she began to retell the details of her goodbye, aware this response was expected from each of them. “Sorry about this, baby,” his husky range always says before pulling her closer to him to plant a kiss on the top of her auburn head, “Family can be complicated.” Not a lie, nor is it the truth, considering the male’s dynamic with his parents are nothing but loving and full of exhilaration to come over and see them. When it comes to his wife’s family, he builds up for days, hell even weeks, potential fights that may unfold, and how he’d have to be the middle ground to salvage them all.

Still, it feels like the only right thing to say. After all, it’s not like Ophelia hasn’t heard him say this phrase before, so tonight wouldn’t be any different.

“Can I be honest?” Benjamin begins, hues never peering from her because she’s his whole world after all, “I’m so glad that I’m not a female and never have to seek approval from my mother on what I should wear or not,” he chuckles lightly. Maybe it’s a male thing. Or, a matriarchal complex that comes with those from wealthy backgrounds, but he’s grateful in knowing that his youth never consisted of having to wear something to please others. What made people like the Navarro family is their wholesome approach in welcoming people into their homes with no form of judgment creeping around the corner. He may have been an only child, but his aunts and uncles gave him many cousins from different backgrounds and dreams of achieving. They always supported one another because if it made them happy, why should someone else’s opinion ruin that? “Whatever you wear tomorrow, it will look beautiful because you want to know why?” Brief interlude allowing him to lean close to her before whispering in her ear, “You’re the one wearing it.”

Just as he says the sultry comment, the valet, after forever, shows up with their rental. It comes at the same time Ophelia suggests how they could spend their morning, which if he’s honest, he’s ready to have nothing but an uninterrupted morning whilst being tangled in the sheets with the only woman he has eyes for. But, he keeps his response secured as he opens the passenger door for Ophe, before clapping the young valet on the back and handing him a hundred-dollar bill, before sliding into the driver seat with ease.

It’s only until they are away from the Van Doren grounds does he speak once again. It almost felt like they were listening, though from where they stood on the gravel driveaway to the distance of road the vehicle is proceeding down effortlessly, is minutes away. “I would like that,” he interrupts the silence, catching a glimpse of the dim light of his woman, which causes him to grin like there’s no tomorrow. “All of that.” The foot rub, if it pleased her. The opportunity to get out of his damn suit always made him feel like he was about to enter into a distance meeting, not a family gathering. “We should put the ‘do not disturb’ on the door when we arrive. Stay in for the morning and order room service. I just want to be with you. It feels like it’s been way too long.”

VERSE : Catalina WHO :  Ethan Hastings & Georgina Livingston ( @jessicarcthes​​​ ) WHERE / WHEN :Bootlegger’s Pub.

Ethan had been in California for so many years, but there was a part of him that still missed home. There were some habits he couldn’t really shake off no matter how hard he tried, and the accent was ever so present, rolling off his tongue with ease and denouncing where a place he spent more than half his life.

He liked living in Catalina, though, surrounded by a whole body of water, unlike where he lived in Georgia, where the acres of his family lands were as far as the eye could reach. There were no cows and horses in Catalina, but he had picked up surfing and adopted a cat and a fish, crossing his fingers so that no deadly accident would ever happen involving the both of them. The company was nice, though. Milo was prone to curling up to his side whenever he arrived home and slept on his neck, Bait didn’t do much except blow bubbles all day long, but still, it was nice to know that in his house there were other living beings besides himself.

A place he truly loved was the hospital. As a young boy, he had never imagined himself being a doctor, much less a pediatrician, or a surgeon for that matter. He dreamt of rodeos and taking care of horses, of milking cows and living off the land just as he had done his whole life. His mother’s illness changed everything, though. It completely warped his senses and turned his world upside down. He never wanted to feel useless like that ever again, if his father hadn’t pulled him to the side and talked to him, who’s to say what he would be doing right now? Rather than sitting in the attendings lounge and having sweet patients to take care of.  

Some cases were hard, though. Harder than the others, but it was the gamble one took when they chose surgeon. The loses were hard, but when a kid got to go home and live out the rest of their lives? Yeah, that pretty much made up for everything. After his divorce, Ethan had jumped head first into work. Surely, he had dated here and there, but nothing worth of commitment, except the one time he thought he would commit and ended up being ghosted out. He never took those things to heart, though, he was pretty good at letting go and moving on, if anything, his mother’s death taught him that nothing was meant to be eternal. Some things just faded away.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been at work, probably over 24 hours on call, give it or take. He was tired. He could feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones with every smile he gave to a kid. On the past hours he had done three surgeries, two successful and one not, and barely slept a wink. He often joked about how he was far too old to deal with not sleeping, but it was a surgeon’s life, and more often than not, he was thankful for it. Once he was done and passed the remaining cases to the students and other attendings, he showered in the hospital before going directly to the nearby pub so he could have a beer so he could have a dreamless night of sleep.

Ethan was already known for stopping by once his shift was done. The food was good and it wasn’t as sad as going to a restaurant and asking for a solo table. He greeted the bartenders right off the bat with a gentle smile and soon there was a cold beer in front of him and someone asking if he wanted the usual, to which he nodded. It wasn’t long though before his attention was pulled to the woman a few stools down from his and his smile grew even bigger, if that was possible. “Georgina Livingston,” he said her name. He always said her full name, like an inside joke.

“As I live and breathe, I feel like I need to call the Ghost hunters, because Casper made an appearance,” he chuckled and got off his seat so he could sit closer to her. They had gone on a few dates a while back before she completely ghosted him out. Being her kids pediatrician, Ethan had never really lost an opportunity to pull her leg. He was in no way bitter about it, they were adults enough to let things go. “I can sit here right? You’re not here with some poor guy you’re gonna ghost next?”

Summer was departing quicker than Georgina had expected. Almost too fast that she had forgotten what it felt like to be in the moment rather than allowing her conscience to wander endlessly and think of what-if scenarios. For once in her life, specifically in being with Tucker, did all of the weight vanish from her fragile shoulders. It took innumerable actions, openly admitting the marriage’s faults and saying goodbye once and for all, to mend from the gaping hole that she felt appear in the cavity of her heart.

Nothing of her ex-husband remained nearby, beside his grave residing in a cemetery in Los Angeles. But other than any possession of his (items, or the home located in Westlake, California Georgina sold at the beginning of the warming season) no longer lingered around nor burdened her any further from looking over her shoulder in wonder and worry. She could live. Peacefully, with her two beautiful children with patrons like her siblings and parents coming and going from the Ventura home with ease, while knowing tomorrow she’ll be caring for all of the animals on Catalina Island, and it would be harmonious.

Though, her usual efforts of getting home right after the workday came to a close to spending it with the kids, did not succeed. Her co-workers, both young and carefree, insisted on an evening out. One worthy of a celebration since Geo, in which she hadn’t announced too many of others on the isle other than her family and co-workers, that she completed her certification in expanding her veterinary license to the aquatic animals that possessed the nearby water. It wasn’t like her to keep it hush-hush. She would’ve called Ava in a heartbeat, but her friend was going through a move of her own and moving forward with Rory. Plus, the majority of the times when the caramelized locked woman did want to tell others, they were swept up by other things. It’s just a topic that never came up nor did the atmosphere feel right.

It would be a matter of time until everyone found out about her latest professional achievement. The Catalina Gazette loved to talk about the triumph that resided on the quaint, off-the-cost of Los Angeles island, which had a lot more than a spot for tourists to come and catch a mere glimpse of. No, it was home to many and a place that gave everyone a chance to be the best version of themselves.

Until then, and the eventual sound of her phone dinging with messages of congratulations, the hush celebration for the evening will have to happen. Especially since the marginally older woman could not stand the sight (or the eventual one) of two of her workers giving her the puppy dog expression that tug at her heartstrings. Not only did she come to see it on a daily with Asher and Joanna, but she didn’t need anyone else to pull those moves on her. So, she caved and celebrated until it was socially acceptable to leave before it got too late ─ which would be around nine-thirty because she would never miss their bedtime routine.

Dressed in a multitoned green-blue dress with yellow flowers, white strappy flats, and her infamous crocheted shoulder clutch resting on her shoulder, the beach-waved brunette entered the familiar establishment of Bootleggers Pub earlier in the evening. The atmosphere was hush, perhaps since most of those hardcore partygoers decided to take the ferry to Los Angeles to hit up the clubs due to the lackof of Catalina’s surroundings. Though, the mother of two thought of it as an advantage. She could get drinks orders in for her and the girls without much of a wait, a couple of minutes tops, and mingle amongst themselves until her parental duties called ─ even though Sylvie told her eldest daughter to enjoy herself on the rare evening where she didn’t need to parent.

The familiar words of her mother should reassure her. After all, Geo heard the statement dart from the matriarch of the Livingston household anytime her daughter began to feel guilty about having a harmless evening out. It was only getting drinks in bosom that she used to love coming to during her university days. Neither one of her kids would be upset, especially since it isn’t in their persona’s. The culpability still consumes her because she loves her role as a mother more than anything. Every part of her fears that she’ll miss out on moments of importance, though she knows it’s unlikely anything will happen tonight besides Joanna managing to get a cute costume on Lilo.

But it didn’t hurt to check-in. Just to make sure everything was okay ─ though if it wasn’t, her mother would’ve dialed the line instantly. So, as she snuck away from her table and resided at the bar to look like she ordered around a round of drinks, her digits taped away feverishly against the keyboard to her mother: Is everything okay? No problems with the kids or the animals? I just want to make sure you’re not tired of them.

And it was like her mother, who knew her daughter like the back of her hand, patiently awaited for the plethora of messages to light up her iPhone. It would be three dots on Geo’s end of the screen that would make her realize that she’s worrying over nothing yet again. It’s not like her parents ever complained about Asher or Joanna. They loved their first grandchildren more than life itself. Hell, they would gladly take them away for weeks on end if it meant Georgina could just take a moment to breathe. But, she couldn’t be away from them that long, nor could the pets.

Ding ding retrieved her attention once again, falling into a common trance of thoughts, as her screen showed: Go have fun, sweetie! Please, your father and I are loving the superhero movie Asher is showing up. Love you. Her hazel hues read the message over and over again, making the corners of her mouth corners blossom happily. She knew this would’ve been the response. Or one similar, but she needed this to know that Geo could enjoy the evening for a little bit longer (not too long) without checking her phone every couple of minutes.

So as the satisfaction found her, a nearby masculine voice greeted her formally. Multitoned optics began to study the surroundings briefly before finding the person in speaking: the one and only, Ethan Hastings. Surprisingly the beam that plastered itself on her mouth corners remained, welcoming the companion for saying hello during her prior occupation. “Hello stranger,” her saccharine silvery range greets, head tilting to the side, “You know that you don’t have to call me by my full name, right? Just Georgina or Geo,” she points out playfully.

It was not that it bothered her, but maybe his pleasantries of greeting her in such a manner have to do with the fact that she ghosted him months before Tucker came into the picture. Not once in the years did she forget about the incident. And Ethan, being her children’s pediatrician, made sure to remind her at any given moment which she summoned the following remark in a different capacity than times prior. It always made her chuckle, sometimes even laugh depending on the scenario he included it in, but always indicated that she could handle their past. “Ah, I knew that was coming. I just knew it since it wouldn’t be a greeting from you if you didn’t remind me of that, huh?” A laborious quip parts from her confines, watching as he took a seat closer to her now. It’s a welcomed presence since her co-workers seemed to have made themselves comfortable with a nearby table of young men wanting to play some darts. “Of course, you can sit there,” she says without rolling her hues but always lighthearted around him, “I don’t date, by the way. So all single men on the island are safe from my past, accidental, ghosting.”

VERSE :The Greatest American Dinasty WHO :  Laurel Van Doren & Olive Van Doren ( @jessicarcthes​ ) WHERE / WHEN : Olive’s home, after Charleston.

Laurel had decided from a young age that whenever she graduated, she would move away from her own house and city. It had been the easiest decision she had ever made, but she wasn’t entirely sure if it was worth it all the time. Her relationship with her mother had never been easy and being away from her and her world had been greater parts of her departure. In parts she understood too much where Olive was coming from, after all, she did have when Olive was too young, with her first husband — who wasn’t the greatest father either — and had to juggle a lot while also learning how to be a mother. Other parts of her, however, were resentful for how things had developed between them and the resentment had been carried around for far too long.

It didn’t help that Laurel had been in the limelight for as long as she could remember. If not entirely for her mother being a Hollywood producer, than for her father being an actor, or for her mother’s family always finding a way of inserting her in a world she had absolutely no reason to be around. Or want, for that matter. She didn’t want to be in the family’s business, she had seen what that had done to her aunt, and she wasn’t interested in viling for others approval, because in some ways, she already did that with her mother. A vicious cycle among the Van Doren children, apparently.

It wasn’t to say that their relationship had not grown and gotten better overtime. It wasn’t to say that many of the wounds they shared or inflicted on one another for one reason or the other, hadn’t healed. Their relationship wasn’t optimal, nevertheless, and time and time again Laurel saw herself jealous at the way Preston and Phoebe seemed to read each other’s mind with one look. That would never happen between her and Laurel, or her and her own father, and it always left her in a weird mind set once her brain started thinking about it.

Her reasons to spend her summer break before senior year of University were partially lost on her mother. She had come unannounced, with a few bags packed, ready to take over her old room and to spend some time with her younger siblings ( if anything, that was a relationship Laurel would fight tooth and nail to keep, she really did love them, something she did not expect given how jealous she had gotten when Olive told the family about her pregnancy ). The kids were a part of the reason why she was there. A summer internship was another, something she did manage to get — not because of her last name — at one of the best advertising agencies around — it was the main reason for her to be home, at least the one she told Olive. 

Truth be told, however, Laurel had left someone in New York, ran away from someone would be more exact, and her newfound fear of commitment and love were something she was certain, as the day was bright, she had inherited directly from her mother. She couldn’t exactly say it out loud, but she could run and hide, and this is exactly what she was doing despite receiving a good morning text from Noah as soon as she woke up that morning. She ignored it, deciding to leave it on read and not responding as she proceeded to her childhood bathroom to take a quick shower. 

Much of her room and bedroom was the same as she had left them about three years ago when she moved away. She spent the first two years of university living in the dorms before proceeding to rent a small house with a couple of friends, which was how she came to meet Noah, at their housewarming party. Laurel was focused on what she wanted and who she wanted to be, which didn’t leave much time or freedom for having fun and thinking about it now, she wished she had thought it through before she got involved with him. She could never give him what he wanted. It was simple enough to see. She groaned when her mind had gone there again and stepped off the shower, drying herself before putting on an oversized shirt and some shorts and going down the stairs. 

She didn’t see her mother nor Preston arriving the night before from their time in Charleston, she had absolutely no intention of participating in another Van Doren dinner, and she would push off the next for the time being. Her great grandmother was intimidating and she knew Helena had plans for her that she would fail at. She started the coffee pot for the family when she encountered the empty kitchen. She didn’t know exactly which time it was, maybe it was far too early, so she decided to take a seat and wait for her in the morning pick me up. It didn’t take long before she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and it didn’t surprise that it was her mother. “Morning, mom,” she greeted, they had seen each other briefly before Charleston. “Didn’t see you guys coming in yesterday. Did you have a good flight? How was it?”

It always relieved Olive when these family weekends, specifically with the Van Dorens in Charleston, came to a close. There’s always built-on stress to the mother of four when she’s around her family. One and the most significant factor is the one that comes with her need to impress her family because her twin sister failed in that spectrum. It’s an unpleasant feeling that occupies her whole as it causes her to set the wrong lesson for her kids. But, compared to how she grew up versus what her kids experience, she’d never want them to battle for her love, feel like they need to compete amongst themselves, or doubt if they’ll receive any sort of acceptance. They’ll receive it entirely and without a second thought.

Though, she’s still learning how to slither away from obtaining high praise from her family, especially after her discussion with Preston and the mention of changing her surname once and for all came into play. It may not mean much to anyone else, but to sign off on a bunch of legal documents to make the change undergo. However, the story is different for Olive, and it’s about family and love. Remaining with the Van Doren surname meant they still have a hold over her and could keep her as a puppet in their never-ending mind tricks ─ ones that she’s endured one too many years because she thought it was love, but in a challenging way. Instead, it’s always been about securing the family name and allowing the supremacy of their family to prosper for decades to come. By no means is this what a family should do or show love.

And if there’s one way to take control, it’s doing what will cause havoc amongst the Van Doren bloodline. But, for the mother of four, she has to set an example even if the youngest two won’t understand it entirely. However, the story is different with Phoebe and Laurel since they have endured the travesty referenced as Olive’s family, but in this circumstance entirely, she thinks about Laurel.

With her firstborn, it was far from perfect but came with a lot of unexpected circumstances. It started first with her separation from her first husband and the blast of headlines (the only taste and familiarity she’s had with her sister in years) about their situation. It drove her insane to see the headlines and the pictures of her Laurel splashed on the headlines to create a divide ─ which worked successfully. She wasn’t blind to the fact her daughter resented the divorce, let alone had difficulty adjusting to the fact her parents weren’t together. Anytime they tried to communicate, it was like pulling on teeth to get a response without a shout or a door slamming in her face. Nor did it help that Olive, amidst this proceeding, felt alone since her family decided to be as hands-off as possible. She was a young mother, early to mid-twenties, left alone to fend for herself while trying to mend bridges before they burned to a point beyond repair.

It’s why the mother-daughter duo signed up for therapy. It would give Olive insight and understanding of the complications she’s been experiencing as a parent and provide a safe space for Laurel to share everything that’s bothering her. It taught them a lot, even to the point where the mother continued to go and mend the issues of being afraid to open up to Preston after her divorce. But it didn’t mean everything was picturesque amongst them. One would be blind to see that Laurel was jealous when Preston and Phoebe became permanent family members. As well, the light of envy when she got pregnant with the youngest two and knew how to parent after the trial and error.

However, it didn’t mean that she loved Laurel anymore since their years together came with plenty of push and even more pull. It took a lot for her to acknowledge something was wrong and to fix the mistake beforehand. If the world was perfect, things would’ve gone by swimmingly, but at her age and the eldest two going further in their separate ways, it doesn’t stop her from being here and teaching them life lessons. Perhaps it comes a bit later than they’d like, Laurel in specific, but lessons do not end when you reach a certain age.

And thankfully, there’s a clear conscience sitting on Olive as she thinks about this latest endeavor she wants to take and her daughter’s sudden arrival to Los Angeles, which doesn’t surprise her at all. If anything, she accepts it with open arms and takes care of Laurel’s room, the one that has remained untouched because it would ache her to remove the pieces of her daughter even with the distance amongst them now. She always told Laurel and Phoebe that they could show up anytime they wanted, and it would never burden them ─ especially Olive because she adores an occupied home.

After taking care of the youngest two this morning, who sped past the kitchen and cheered happily about Laurel’s appearance, the auburn-haired woman was in tow in casual yoga pants and an oversized production t-shirt, showing that she prefers to look like this rather than being glammed up and porcelain-like her grandmonster expects the twins to always be like. “Hi sweetie,” she says in her cheerful falsetto, nearing her eldest as Olive bends down and plants a kiss on top of her head before tucking a strand of locks behind her ear. “Came in a bit later than expected though. My suitcase got lost so that was fun.” Not really. “Though the flight was good. Everyone behaved impressively well,” she began, only to amble away from her daughter to grab two plates for the bagels in the fridge, “But those few days with your grandparents always drains me. I’m just glad to be home.”

Laurel is at the age where Olive doesn’t have to hide the complications she experiences with her parents. Not only would it be a lie for her to lie about everything being okay, but everyone knows the Van Dorens in Charleston has a personality that zaps all life out of you. She’ll need the next few days to adjust to everything that’s happened. Setting the ceramic glass down, a smile finds her mouth corners gracefully. “I’m glad you decided to come home, Lau. How long are you here with us? Maybe I can get us a reservation to your favorite restaurant or cook your favorite meal.”

VERSE :The Greatest American Dinasty WHO :  Preston Thomas & Olive Van Doren ( @jessicarcthes​ ) WHERE / WHEN : Hotel room / After the Van Doren dinner

Preston had realized from the early days of being introduced to the Van Dorens that he was not their favorite person, exactly. He wasn’t sure they liked anyone, per say. Olive’s grandmother — or grandmonster as she and Ophelia liked to call the matriarch of their family — had questioned the fact that there were two first names in his name, and that was the nicest thing she had ever said to him followed by a condescending tsk of her tongue. For the most part, he had learned to ignore her family simply because what he had with Olive was better than any of them could have hoped for in their empty lives.

It had not been easy, he would assume that their road so far had been filled with ups and downs — sometimes more downs than ups — and they had been separated and together long enough to figure out where they needed to be to choose one another, and as far as Preston was concerned, he would choose her for the rest of his life. 

It was funny the way she entered his life and even better how she stayed. By then, he thought he would never be able to hold on to anyone else after the loss of his late wife and Phoebe’s mother, but Olive had been like a hurricane to him, or an earthquake, shaking things up and making him realise there was still much— much more to life than being a widower and single father. The fact that his own daughter was the one to urge him to ask her out never failed to amaze him. He had been afraid, when he realized he had feelings for Olive other than friendship, that Phoebe would think that any other woman in her life would mean she would forget about her own mother or that her mother would be replaced just like that. However, Phoebe had been gracious about the whole ordeal, forming a bond with Olive he didn’t think she would. It was a bond he still fought for with Laurel, but with the first few years of the girls’ lives being so different, he did his best to understand where each of them had come from.

The man was never happy about having to put their lives on hold for the Van Dorens. Sometimes, he wondered how bad his wife still wanted to cater to their needs. They were both adults, they had four children, they had their own family, he failed to understand why her mother and father’s opinions still mattered so much. Why both twins followed their family’s whims without question. He didn’t say it out loud though, not wanting to add to his wife’s nerves and the prospect to spending time with Benji always cheered him up, it seemed like over the years they had formed their own outsiders group and that Phillip Van Doren had acquired a taste for their company, case in point them being whisked away to his man cave not two seconds after their arrived. Anything not to deal with Helena or Claire. While he could feel the tension building over the six course meal, he didn’t know all of them had been collectively holding a breath until they bid their goodbyes and walked out of the intimidating mansion. He had never asked his wife about the story, but being in Charleston and being owned over the years by white rich people, he did not want to know.

He didn’t make much conversation as he helped Olive in the car. He knew better than to press her about it now. He allowed her to sulk in her own thoughts as they drove through the streets back to the French Quarter Inn, where they had made reservations and where he knew Benjamin and Ophelia were in too. He wouldn’t say it out loud, not now anyway, but he was hopeful they could all sit down for a meal before they returned to their respective homes. He got out of the driver’s seat and rounded their rental so he could help his wife out, loosening his own tie as he took her hand and walked with her until they reached the elevator and then until they reached their room, putting a don’t disturb sign on the door as they would definitely need their rest.

Taking off his blazer — still hated wearing those for a simple family dinner — and slipping her own coat off her shoulders after, he hung them both and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting her head on his chest. “Looks like we survived another one,” Preston smiled, and kissed her forehead and then her lips before pushing himself away so he could have a better look. “I think I’ll always hate that your parents make me dress up for their in-house events,” he rolled his eyes playfully before locking their eyes together as he backed down and sat on the bed, head tilting up so he could see her better. “How are you doing? I saw you sneaking out for the gardens, you always go there when you have too much on your head.”

It’s not easy with the Van Dorens ─ even when they’re your own bloodline.

But even with Olive’s concurrence of her family’s distaste in everything possible, it does not sit well with her when it comes to Preston. It’s been years, many years of on-off amongst the pairing, before ultimately deciding to fulfill the other with trust and faithful I do. It didn’t feel ideal to decide to settle down instantly after the failure of her marriage to Laurel’s father and the brutal divorce that was splattered all over the headlines. But Preston, in the many times over the years when the auburn-haired woman began to pull away, stood a firm ground and wanted to work through everything with her even if it took longer than expected and failure found them often.

She knew through everything they went through, specifically from her behalf and fear to commit because it meant he’d could find a way to be disappointed in her, turned out to be a realistic love story that made Olive grateful for life and the curveballs she’s endured. By no means is she still perfect or doesn’t struggle daily, but it’s become more manageable with a lover who’s there regardless of what time you wake up with belaboring thoughts and will still love you no matter what. It’s the security that she’s never experienced with her parents, let alone with Laurel’s father.

Hence, it constantly aches and adds worries, an excess amount of anxiety, when her parents insisted on visiting them ─ even when their ships passed in the night. The Van Dorens lacked the warmth that other in-laws would’ve given to their sons-in-law. Greeting one another wasn’t in the capacity of an embrace with endless amounts of pats on the others backs and beaming expressions in reflection about their last catch-up with laughter erupting. It came in the form of a formal handshake like meeting the President of the United States for the first time. Stoic, glacial, and all unnecessary, but her family has always valued the importance of their namesake more than anything. It doesn’t help that her grandmonster, the only reasonable way to reference the matriarch of the Van Doren household, always knew how to stick it to anyone in passing. Still, even with their years of dating before getting married, she despises these weekends more than anything for her husband’s sake. However, if she didn’t attend, the woman wouldn’t hear the end of it, and this adds another flame to the fire.

Plus, it doesn’t help with the timing that her twin sister is going through a headline disaster after her last job got pulled from right underneath her being the discussion evening.

Which, now thinking about the interaction with Ophelia in the garden, stung her profusely. Hence for the quietude that settles in their vehicle as they return to the French Quarter Inn. It gives her time to process everything they said ─ not much of a discussion since they said statements that frequently came with no response or a mumble before finding something else to possess the topic forefront. Each day, she misses her sister, and her husband knows this. Just by the way, Olive stands in the family room and admires the wall full of pictures of their four beautiful children next to the few images with her sister and others, as the picture frames, indicates this is the closest they’ll be.

So she greets the silence wholly and is grateful for Preston, knowing that she needs additional time to process and detach from the thick air before spilling all of the details. Olive wants to tell him everything and to hear his insight ─ even though she feels horrible for constantly burdening him with her family (mostly sister) issues. Though, this is what marriage is all about. Everything she was scared about in the past allowed her to overcome these fears and know the other person she could trust besides herself is the man who never complained or made her feel less than for feeling too much.

Only returning back to the land of the living, baby blue hues peer quickly at the time on the dashboard, knowing the babysitter they hired for the evening put their youngest two kids to bed. She’ll have to make sure to check up on them before heading to bed herself, but right now, Preston graces her side and guides them toward their bedroom. In the sight of her peripheral vision, she sees him undo his tie as it activates an upturn motion of her mouth corner and throaty chuckle. She knows how much he despises these formal evenings with her family. After all, he deals enough with the whole suit and time shenanigans due to being an attorney that she can understand one’s frustrations with a specific dress code. Thankfully, tomorrow will be far more relaxed, and the kids will be in tow, so the atmosphere is bound to lighten up compared to the hairs that remained upright on her neck tonight.

Happily in the confines of their room, Olive slipped out of her heels and allowed a sigh, yet exasperated sigh of relief part from her formerly nude coated petals. It isn’t long until the petite woman is in the embrace of her lover and relieved they won’t be disturbed for the first time this evening. Resting her head against his chest, her ear picks up the faint sound of his beating heart as his words add additional reassurance. “Yup, we sure did,” her falsetto quiet, but full of relief since the worst part is technically over. It’s just now remaining on the positive side and hoping no one acts up once the grandchildren show face. Though before any other statements, the softness of his lips against hers causes a ripple of emotions to slip through her as her arms loop contentedly around his neck, and a soft murmur is forced to the part about the choice of attire, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore, okay? The kids are with us tomorrow, and we know our youngest two would rather strip than wear a fancy, designer dress and suit and tie,” she jokes.

Though, the joke is fleeting as he knows her too well. Positioned on the bed beside Preston, her legs lay across his lap before pale fingers intertwine with his own, taking a moment to find the right words. “It’s hard with Ophelia,” she begins with a shrug, “She thought I was going to tell my producer friends, her words not mine, all about her situation with her losing her job.” Which stung because Olive, out of the both of them, hated talking about her family or anything personal when it comes to work. It’s a line that she refuses to cross and enjoys keeping work matters simply work and family a whole other category. “Also, this time with my family always brings up unwanted feelings and thoughts. I’m in my forties and still feel the need to please them, which is stupid,” It begins with a chuckle at her need to please constantly, until it turns over to a thought that has been on her conscience for years. “But I don’t feel like they’re my family, you know?”

A pause, brow vaulting toward him because this is the first time in forever since she mentioned this topic, “What if I finally changed my surname? Olive Thomas? That has a good ring to it, yeah?”

It’s strange how the conversation flows freely. Only had he experienced that kind of ease with one person in his life aside from his sisters and best friend. Rebecca was someone he did not want nor need to be swimming in his thoughts at that particular moment, even if making comparisons seemed inevitable. It had been two years since Rebecca had walked out on him and Gabriel would be the first to admit that he had some difficulty opening up again to someone else. He wasn’t exactly not dating, but every affair of his had been brief and bland, either motivated by Ava’s insistence that he needed to “pick up a spoon” ( some Friends reference he had laughed at the time ) or by his sister’s motivations, telling him he had to move on and not be stuck at the moment.

Truth be told, moving on from being left at the altar was harder than people might imagine. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason for that, but he suspected it to be because he had the time to help Rebecca arrange the whole marriage, to laugh and talk about future possibilities as his mother was going insane with the caterer. Possibilities which included: moving to a bigger house so they could have plenty of dogs, traveling for a while, and maybe kids. Had their plans fit the bill, they would be on the children stage now, either trying for or already with a little kid of their own. Gabriel always wanted to be a dad and it wasn’t a hard conclusion to come by when someone caught a glance of the way he treated his niece and nephew. 

Those plans had been pushed a little further, but his mind was at the right place now.

He had gone from being mad, to being angry, to being sad, to being numb, and to coming to the conclusion that it was much better for Rebecca to have walked out on him when she did rather than doing it when they were two years in their marriage and either with a kid or trying for one.

It was a somber thought to have, but it was the one who helped him move on from what had happened.

Still, moving on was a tricky business. Finding someone that he could hit the flow with. Finding someone he could imagine himself falling in love with, or even going on more than one date with, was enough. A lot of women who approached him were shallow in some sense. He was no Tiger Woods, as previously stated, but still he was relatively well known by people who were interested, or even a quick Google search could tell someone all they needed to know about him - most of his life had been an unfortunate public scandal, from the drugs to being left at the altar - but he much rather share those information himself. It wasn’t what always happened. 

Then, there was the matter of Gabriel wearing his heart on his sleeve. Or so Georgina and Gabby told him all the time. It wasn’t particularly a bad thing, they said, most of the Livingstons carried that trait around, but it made it easier to get hurt when they just put everything out in the open like that. Made it easier to take advantage of them, and Gabriel, who had felt vulnerable enough for a lifetime during his childhood and not knowing how to deal with his ADHD and learning disabilities, at some point, decided to just swear off dating altogether.

And then the accident happened, and his life all but turned around. 

He remembered talking with Ava about not being ready to throw himself in again, but truth be told, he did not expect Cleo. Cleo had been in his life for as long as he could remember. Going to 4th of July parties when Johnathan and Sylvie decided to throw them in their backyard, playing volleyball in their swimming pool and laughing around. He remembered occasionally pulling on her pigtails when they were kids when he wanted to stirr her on, and running around until he was old enough to focus on Ava, rather than her. He didn’t  mean to be a dick, their lives just started to differ as their age difference seemed bigger than it actually was. Still, in some sense, they were always in each other’s lives. Some of the pictures he has with Ava while growing up either include Cleo or have her sunshine hair in the background indicating she was nearby. It wasn’t strange to have reconnected with her, it was just strange to realize that he wanted something more with her, even though being her friend, if that’s all she wanted, would be enough.

Showing that she’s more than well versed in the Livingstons, Gabriel nods at her statement. “You should have seen her with her plush toys, I’m just glad she didn’t want to do surgery on any of mine,” he lets out a small chuckle, his eyes now glued on Archie as he sniffs the sidewalk around. Part of him is glad that they had each other’s families part covered by getting to know one another, still, he is sure that there is a lot more to find out since before they started hanging out, he was only ever aware of the business woman Cleo, and middle Halliwell Cleo. He was pleasantly surprised with the things he found out, even though his mind still couldn’t believe someone had the courage to call that woman “unlovable”. “Oh, I think I painfully know that you Halliwell girls are always right, key word being painfully,” Ava had a thing about punching his arm. He hated it.

It made him feel relieved that she had accepted the invitation for golf Sundays easily, with her graceful little remarks about being green on the field and had he not been so nervous about asking her on the date, he would probably had shot something flirtatious back, but all he could do was chuckle nervously at that. It was more than weird feeling like a teenager around anyone, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like one as he stood in front of Cleo and awkwardly posed the question. Truth be told, he was just scared that she would say no, right off the bat, and completely shut down any possibility of them hanging out in the future seeing as he had asked her out on a date, things were bound to feel awkward, as much as he would try to make them otherwise. Not hanging out with her was not something he wanted to do, but he also didn’t want to stand by for the rest of his life and wonder ‘what could have been’ between them if he didn’t try. One could say he was inspired by the other women in his life who were so eager for him to take a leap of faith on something.

Registering her words was not easy as he was a little too into his own brain when she replied, but her confirmation took him out of his zone. “Yes?” He asked again and smiled like what could only be described as a kid in a candy shop. He fought the urge to fist pump the air and behave like a normal human being so as to not scare her off before they could even have gone to the date itself. He took in a deep breath and cleared his throat. “It’s not weird,” he assured her, “had I known you’d say yes, I would have asked you about three hangouts ago,” he grinned victoriously, and posed himself on her side again as the dogs were getting fussy to continue their walk as he felt as Archie tugged on the leash. “Tell me a day that’s good for you, I mean, seeing as I’m doing just about… nothing, I can work myself around your calendar, just pick a date where you have absolutely nothing going on.” He had some idea about what he wanted to do with her, something fun to stick around in her memory for a while and then it was when it dawned on him.

“I’m gonna have to tell your sister, aren’t I?”

It’s uncanny for a fluorescence sight to plaster itself over the stronghold, frequently petrifying sight that’s referenced as Cleo’s features. Typically, there’s a stoic sight that holds her entirely. Regardless of who it is or what the situation might entail, it lacks all of the warmth that she’s seen visit passionately in others ─ examples including Gabriel’s sister, Georgina, and her half-flesh and blood, Ava. No matter what endeavors have managed to throw their way. The sight of those two women who manages to stand firm and keep their heads afloat when life wants to throw an endless amount of curveballs their way.

So, it may come off as a startling sight to those who are currently passing by the pair in tow of two dogs eager to proceed forward, that she’s floating on cloud nine and felt engulfed by what’s presently unfolding amongst them. No man in the history of her romantic endeavors ever made her feel so safe and sound when they weren’t even together. Nor did anyone try to knock down her walls or relieve the stoic articulation with a steadfast hold on her gently painted characteristics.

It’s comforting, nearly identical way, in wrapping oneself in a blanket after a long day or a body, if one is lucky to. No matter how one remains optimistic and attempts to see the glass gleaming with light in passing through the day with flying colors, the thought of having someone who wants to hear you talk about your day or sit in silence is an unfamiliarity that Cleo strangely sees in the figure of the towering Livingston off to her side. Of course, it’s too soon to get ahead of any assumptions that things will achieve, and there wouldn’t be any complications that may arise along the way. But now, the baby blue glaze that latches onto him since no one else matters finds every piece of her begin to fall further into a never-ending well of feelings for Gabriel Livingston.

One of the first things that have attracted her to him goes further than his looks. While it’s a bonus, it’s the personality that swallows him whole and the way he speaks about his family with such love and admiration that the light will never diminish. By no means does it make her envious that someone has a healthy relationship with their bloodline and is willing to share these memories so freely. In a way, the platinum blonde has her sisters, with the closest connection to Ava, but it’s nothing of the means of what she witnesses in his seafoam optics. Twinkling sight when he speaks about his niece and nephew, memories of his eldest sister taking the nearest plushy and treating it as a patient, or the way everyone safeguards Gabby since she was the youngest but the missing piece of their trio. Sharing these bits and pieces over their meetings, almost feeling like she’s been a part of the reminiscence, grips her speechless at how real he is.

Yet, also, making her wonder how she got lucky ─ out of everyone.

Of course, it’s her killer confidence that added fuel to the fire of their past of passing by each other and exchanging pleasantries due to their family’s unbreakable connection. Though it was the years of learning, growing, and ultimately failing with other romances in the past to stand right here and to see Gabriel Livingston in a light that makes her just want this, whatever this grows to become, every second of her time. Specifically to the point where she endeavors him, and all of her former cracks mold themselves naturally by his gentle touch and words. Moments where they can lay awake at night and just get lost in their conversations, only to grin at each other like children in the morning while nursing a cup of their choosing (which, hey, she’ll give the coffee a shot again for him). As well as anything and everything memorable that comes their way. It’s something that’s never enticed her this much before and frightens her.

Cleo doesn’t want to lose anything, not when there’s already too many goodbye’s along the way. It may mean that she’ll have to prove to him since knowing about being left at the altar ─ which, this bit and piece of information, does frighten her because will she be compared to Rebecca? But, it doesn’t matter. Not right now, not until they get across the hurdle that needs them to conquer other demons. Though, it’s apart of her further realizing that life is too short. She’s taken risks in her career when cement crumbled each of her dreams. She learned, healed, and grew into a successful version, which caused her to start from point zero. If life can cause her to conquer what felt like the end of the world, there’s no point in her saying no. By no means, is she a goddamn fool, to allow a once in a lifetime and a rare bottle lost at sea to slip through fingers ─ especially since he has made her more alive than anyone else has.

Her ocean hues briefly land on Archie, who wants nothing more but to continue, but the sight of the young pup is a welcomed parting sight since her glaze has been fixed on Gabe even in her moments of pondering. She adores this moment too much. It feels like they’re a family experimenting with furball children first before diving into the deep end of having kids of their own. “So I’m going to assume that she was head over heels when she found out about the boys.” Freehand motions to the pups sitting down on the concrete: one eager while the other behaved like chaos didn’t cross into their breeding. Either way, it’s too cute, and she’s holding an uncharacteristic squeal from suppressing. “I did expect you to get a pet sooner,” she says sweetly, optics once again meeting him with a broadened expression, “because of Georgina, of course.”

Though, she doesn’t fix any longer on the pets or the last bit of their conversation about how the Halliwell’s are always right. In any other circumstance, it would’ve boosted her ego, shortly followed by a planned beat of her coated lashes and a platinum hair flick over her slender, marginally sun-kissed tanned complexion. But no, now she’s focusing on how he’s processing the news of her saying yes.

It was like witnessing a series of events flash in his eyes. Nothing that frightens her by any means since she just underwent her own realization that he finally asked her out after all of these weeks. It makes her already broad expression illuminate, and the apple of her cheeks becomes coated with a vibrant pink color by his repetition. Everything he does just has her growing weaker by the seconds. “Yes.” This time, her body leans closer to him as her songbird falsetto whispers in his ear with digits gentle brushing against his forearm. The action alone mainly was to remind him that her acceptance to date is indeed genuine and that he wasn’t dreaming. But, if only someone could do it in return by pinching her in the arm and shout it’s not a dream. “At least you asked me instead of carrying this moment on any moment further. I might’ve beat you to the punch,” she laughs, forcefully pulling herself away when Archie had enough of their antics.

Now entering an amble with Mason, obedient and the opposite to what Cleo was like in high school, she clears her throat after a hearty moment. “But, either way, I’m glad you asked me because I really like the current feeling I have with you.” It’s a subtle implication that she’s eager yet ecstatic to see what’s in store for them, without throwing too many expectations in their lap. “Maybe it’s coming on too strong, but my birthday is on the 28th of this month, and I have no plans so…..” Since when did Cleo, of all of the Halliwell girls, fear that her words would come with any sort of rejection. It’s evident from the way there’s a slight tremble in her falsetto, but rather than biting the bullet back, her usual brawny self proceeds with, “If you want and are willing to celebrate me when I’m another year older, I would love to spend it with you.”

And it is once again when he points out the obvious that Cleo is instant with nodding and jumping in with her words, “Yeah, we should.” By them agreeing on this, it’s an excellent start to what proceeds. Still, her voice is gentle as a feather floating through the air. “I can’t lie to her, and I would never want to interfere with your friendship either, but if we’re going to do this the right way, she deserves to know.”

THE END.

It’s not hard for him at all to see the role his sister occupied all those years ago as a mother was only a compliment to the natural caretaker she already was. After the accident she would have assumed a role of head of the Livingstons seeing as their own mother was too occupied being by Gabriel’s bedside twenty four hours for as long as he had been there. Georgina had been the source of comfort for them all. She made their mother take breaks when she felt was needed, brought home made food and made Gabriel feel extraordinarily better about himself giving the fragile state of mind he had been left at after the accident had occurred. He suspected it wasn’t easy and at times draining to be everyone’s back and call, to be the rock when needed to, but his sister did it so effortlessly that no one on the outside looking in would suspect she had one hard moment in her life.

It wasn’t uncommon for Gabriel to put family in front of his job. He loved golfing, much like it had been for his father, it brought him a sense of peace and happiness not much could. It had been what had gotten him through years of therapy and feeling lesser than the rest of his family. It had been something that made him feel victorious and happy, despite feeling unqualified for life every now and then. Much like his own father, however, he knew the sport wasn’t everything, he knew that his family was the ones who really got him through most of it. Who took the brunt of his losses and the sweetness of his gains. He always had that very clear in his mind, so it didn’t take anyone by surprise when he was there for his sister following the birth of Asher. It was a no brainer to him, especially when she was going through something so devastating when it should have been the happiest she had ever been. He remembered crashing on her couch for days on end, waking up when he heard his nephew crying and giving her time to bond— hoping she was bonding with him. If possible, it has made them incredibly closer than before and while he wished she had not gone through it all, he was thankful she was there, tucking blankets across his legs, making sure he was comfortable and not alone.

It was just the way they worked.

He smiled at her as she caught him up on what was happening behind closed doors. Between the three of them, Gabby was certainly the most adventurous one. In all accounts of her life. Sometimes he envied that about her, but he also was eager for a quiet life, full of adventures, but there were all kinds of those and his type sometimes did not align with that of his younger sister. “You know, it’s funny how after all these years, sometimes we’re still apprehensive they’re gonna say no to us.” As a family, they valued each other’s opinions a lot. Sometimes it didn’t work for the best, because even though they were all alike in some ways, they were also different. However, most of the time, opinions were taken into account. Johnathan and Sylvie were more the kind of parents to urge their kids to take a leap, rather than not. It was always obvious that if they fell somewhere along the way, there would always be a safety net to catch them and Gabriel was thankful for that in all of his ventures, including the one of opening up his own charity. He was definitely nervous when he told his parents about his ambitions, even though he fully intended on doing it with his own money and not theirs. 

As his sister spoke again, his mind snapped back to the present, but his smile didn’t waver. They had so many memories, all over the globe, really. Gabriel was lucky enough that they had never lacked anything in their lives, be it love or money. Breaking the mold of most wealthy families with parents who didn’t care about their children, he had so many memories of his parents being there for all of his greatest achievements and in times he needed the most, it was hard not to feel like he had to compensate with the universe somehow. “I remember never being able to see one single constellation but nodding my head along so he wouldn’t be disappointed,” he grinned. Still, he wasn’t very good at spotting constellations from a distance, not even when he had his reading glasses on, but he would gladly eager on any of his father’s obsessions, as he was the kind of father Gabriel someday aimed to be.

“I have my moments, I can promise you that,” he stole a glance at her, raising his now filled glass for a sip. A lot of the bad he had not said it out loud, simply because he hated being the broody man who still had a lot to live for. It was a long way he had come since the accident and the fact that it had not been fatal was something he appreciated a lot, especially after Billy’s death during college. It was strange for him, because even then, he had not been the kind to be irresponsible with his life, but accidents are called so for a reason, nobody was at fault, the road was icy, the car swerved, Gabriel didn’t have a seatbelt on. It could have been much worse. He cleared his throat and leaned back, tilting his head up to look at the stars for a moment. “She said that Billy was protecting that night, as any best friend should— you know… I keep replaying things in my head and wondering if there was a way… any way that I could have convinced him not to get in the car that night, maybe he would have been here with us,” he looks at his sister with a sad smile on his lips, “I guess that I just miss him. He would probably have found a way of punching my shoulder a million times, he would definitely be in the running to win you over by now, and he would just love Asher and Jojo, would ask you what possessed you to make me her godfather… I don’t know. It’s hard to feel lucky when he wasn’t,” he shook his head, wanting to dispel the thoughts right out of his mind.

With a glance over her shoulder, the scintillating sight of the cabin’s family room lights paints silhouettes of their mother, father, and sister in a group hug. The picture brought an upturn, uncontrolled rhythmic pond from her heart against its protective cavity as the news of their younger sister’s chance of career was approved. Though, just like Gabe said in such few words, there’s never been a time when Sylvie or Jonathan Livingston said no. If Georgina wanted to try horseback riding, which she did for a year, they took their eldest daughter to practices because it’s what she wanted. Or if the time when Gabe acknowledged to everyone that he wanted to become a professional golf player, everyone was rooting for him and appeared at every his match because that’s what family did.

No matter the place. Or time. They’ll always pick the other up and take on their worries.

Precisely what she’s doing right now, though if her siblings could shake her and cause her to stop her responsibility of being an additional mother figure, it would be impossible to Geo. All she has ever wanted for her siblings is utter happiness. Whether it was related to falling in love, or with their careers, if she could see them with an illumination that would take plenty of blows to knock them down the pedal stool of high, then she’ll bend over backwards in support to make sure it’s possible.

Of course, it’s not like she could fill their shoes and sway audiences with a stellar performance on the freeway or the latest endeavor of owning an apartment building with an unnamed business beneath on the lowest level. But, she could make sure they know never to stop and to fight. It’s not a chore to her or something she was raised into without a choice. Gabriel and Gabriella, long before her children enter the world, were her priority. Just because they were older and capable of making decisions without running them past her or their parents, everyone sought out the reassurance amongst the Livingston bloodline before fully committing to what could be the worst-case scenario. It’s not because they were afraid of the word no, though limited in their parent’s vocabulary, they’ve always been a family that made everyone feel involved, and this was a momentous moment they should all celebrate because they’re a team and no one gets left behind.

Not ever.

Her multitoned optics glistened with an immense amount of admiration for the exchange inside as the glimmer found the rest of her features instantly. Right at the same time, her brother’s remark played like a broken record in her conscience as it caused a soft chuckle to escape. “Hell would freeze over,” A jest unlike anything before dashed from her mouth, hues peering over at the half-shadow of her brother as a brow arches. “They taught us how important it is to make everyone feel involved with decisions. There’s no I in teams. There’s always a we.” The metaphor was cheesy and something that Geo remembered their parents tell the kids over the years. It’s something that she preaches to both Asher and Joanna each night before laying their beautiful, full-of-locked heads down for the night with Beagles cuddled up to them. She wants the kids to remember that family will always have your break. Like her’s dropped everything to be with her, she felt like she was slipping from them because of her postpartum depression. It may ache them to see any ounce of suffering, but it will make the process of growth easier since they’ll never give up ─ even when your mouth is full of acid, and your body is at war with you.

And the same is said to the sight of her slightly younger, expression brother a near-distance away as they begin to unpeel the onion of thoughts that circulated in his conscience.

It hadn’t been easy to see him in a bruised and battered state following his accident, when Billy passed on, or when Rebecca left him standing at the altar (her least favorite example, but it suited the current atmosphere). He wore his heart on his sleeve. He loved like no other, especially to the point when people took advantage of him and shot him in the center of his beating organ because they knew his soft spot. It drove her insane to see the pain he endured because of one thing that she learned firsthand. Her experiences didn’t remain, nor did she ever experience losing her best friend, so the feelings he’s currently feeling are valid at this point in his life since it all resonates to the progress he’s made ─ something that Billy’s mom is reminding him of.

Rather than jumping into the familiar language of speaking, her quietude allows him a chance to speak uninterrupted. Geo has always been someone who loved the whole picture of a moment rather than bits and pieces. It got her nowhere and frequently messed with her head ─ and anxiety, which she only got on medicine for after Asher was born. Still, it gave him the space to use however long he needed between statements to say what he needed to next or proper form his words. Not once since their changes of the topic did her hues steer elsewhere. One of the many things their parents taught them in the importance of eye contact, and while it was unbelievably dark outside, she sat there and fixed on him. Studying whatever glimmer of light cast itself upon his complexion to reveal his expression showed a sad smile on the surface.

A pang in her heart jolted throughout her body, feeling her own mouth corners tug downward as how much Asher and Joanna would’ve loved Billy. He would’ve spoiled them rotten. They would’ve called him Uncle Billy and clung to him, much like they did with Gabe. All of these what would’ve beens right now that stung the heart still. But both of them being here and able to share stories of his presence and impact in the world is their way of keeping his memory alive. “Hey,” she began, though feeling the pinching of her throat long before she said the following words, “If the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t hesitate to protect someone you love.” It hurt to say it because she didn’t want to think about anything happening to either of her siblings, but it’s just a point. “It sucks he isn’t here because I know he would be here with us right now, and the evening would be full of laughter but…” Abrupt pause, lifting her potent wine glass to her petals to sip as it gave her liquid courage to make her point across. “What we need to do is keep his memory alive. Share his love with the family ─ especially Ash and Jojo as much as possible. Maybe even bombard them with Uncle Billy facts,” she chuckled.

Her way of making Gabe know his feelings are heard and valid because she thought of Billy as another brother. Geo always took him under her wing and smothering him with an infinite amount of love just like the other received. “I miss him,” Silvery, delicate falsetto admits with petals into a fine line, “It’s not easy to lose anyone. I wish you never went through it, but some things are beyond our control. Some things you can’t change whether we like it or not. You can dwell as long as you want because mourning, regardless of what other assholes say, is different for each person.” A soft sigh flutter through her plastered petals. “But you shouldn’t feel guilty for living, learning, and growing, Gabe. You deserve so much and more. It may feel like you’ve gone through a stream of horrible things, and you have, but we always get through them together.”

“Always,” she says lastly. However, it doesn’t take her long to realize another thought bubbles to the surface, and it’s about his latest endeavor with Cleo Halliwell. “Plus, you have a chance to love. Billy might not be there to tease you, but he would’ve yelled at you long ago to make some sort of move on Cleo,” a playfully dashes through, “So as his replacement, it’s my duty to tell you to do something. Take a leap and don’t live in the past for much longer because I hate seeing you sad.” 

It was incredibly hard for Ophelia to hold back the snort at her sister’s words, so she didn’t. Both at the pleasantries and what could only be considered the understatement of the year. She doesn’t reply right away, she takes her time in putting a cigarette stick between her lips and reaching for a loose stone and lifting. It’s where she used to keep her faithful lighter and by the look of things, her mother had not inspected the garden in recent years, because there it still was. She shook it, wondering if there was still fluid and ta-da, she took a long drag, all the while examining her sister’s stance. It was funny how Ophelia could only think that they were strangers by now, their bond lost somewhere along the way.

She doesn’t sit down on the old chair though. She is good with standing. Knowing that her sister is already there, is also knowing that Benjamin has already found Preston and the men should be at her father’s man cave. Somewhere women wont bother. It didn’t bother her though— both of their significant others knew their family enough to know that sticking around and making small talk with her mother was never the right choice for someone’s mental health. Especially Ophelia, if everything that the gossip outlets were saying was true, her mental health must be pretty frail.

She takes another drag before lowering the cigarette to her side. “The Van Doren Estate will always be the same, no matter how long and far we stay from it,” she says bitterly, allowing her sight to behold the mansion. It had been passed down from generation to generation, being in the South, she never went after what it historically entailed, and she was unsure whether she wanted to know or not. “So will mother and daddy,” she rolled her eyes for a moment before flicking what was left of the cigarette somewhere in the perfectly manicured grass. Everything in there was painfully perfect and Ophelia always thought it made her stand out. She hated it. 

Nowadays, she wasn’t sure if her life had been her own. Her path had been decided very early on by her parents — but mostly her mother — and she had followed, from a very young age. She almost didn’t have the chance to experience most things children did when they were young. She remembers movie sets and fake families that weren’t her own. She remembers growing up in front of the lenses and people curious about what she would do next. Her face was in magazines before she could say no. Photoshoots, paparazzi, the whole nine yards. For a while she was sure that fame had been something she wanted her whole life, but now she wasn’t so sure. It was yet another reason she envied her sister so. Olive got to have the best of the business and didn’t have to endure people prying in her business.

She did have Benjamin, though, and he was the only one who kept her standing most of the days. She doesn’t know what she did to deserve him, but he was always willing and ready and never complained about the fact that they would never be able to have kids. Receiving that kind of news cemented what she thought—  she was not meant for motherhood. No one knew though. She didn’t want to turn this whole thing into people feeling sorry for her. She didn’t want to be felt sorry for. Especially not by her twin sister. How crazy was that?

Sure, their relationship is now result of years of competition fueled by their mother and grandmother. Even now, sharing the hot air of Charleston summer, Ophelia can feel the tension between them. It’s not like they had much time together anyway, besides, it fits the bill, doesn’t it? Usually older sisters are nurturing and Ophelia couldn’t be further from that. “It’s ridiculous, you know? If you think about it— not that I want to make it all about me, but just another chance for mother to scold me in front of the family,” she chuckles bitterly and pulls another cigarette from the pack before putting it between her lips and lightening again. 

Ophelia passes a hand through her hair mindlessly. “It’s fine to ask, you know? If you want to?” She sneaks a peak at her sister. “It’s what people have been shoving recording tapes and cameras on my face to talk about for two weeks. I reckon it’s gonna be touched at some point during dinner, and if you wanna know the truth, this is the time or you can wait and talk about it with your producer friends,” she added, “because chances are I’ll make some snide remark at mother, and pull Benjamin by the arm and leave.” She’s blunt, she’ll give herself that. Sometimes it works for the best and sometimes it doesn’t. Her sister knows that well by now. She doesn’t know why, but she sees no point in hiding things from her (aside from her infertility), but she has always been honest, despite their estrangement. 

Eagle-eyed, perspective baby blue sights watch from a distance near a shrub that she used to fall into too often as a child. She was no longer positioned in the chair that saved Olive’s legs from the new pair of heels and the dreadful time she’s having breaking them in. It was a stupid choice to wear brand new shoes to a family gathering, but simultaneously, the perfect opportunity to break them in and not have to suppress painful experiences as she walked down a red carpet or throughout the movie set to an important meeting. Nonetheless, the shoes will be off long before she knows it since the family gatherings span over multiple days, and their grandmonster loves an early evening.

What did matter is seeing her twin after all of these years and the circulating emotions. It felt like she was staring at a stranger, not a womb mate enjoying a cigarette, as it was a vice that Olive never picked up on. Alcohol, yes, but to an extent, but never putting something near her mouth or giving it the upper hand to fill her lungs. The reason is that she didn’t want to miss a single moment of her kid’s life sooner than she wants. Though, if things had been different for Ophelia and she had a miniature version of her, just like Olive had with Laurel (to an extent, but it was apparent when they entered the room about sharing similar genes and how they walked identically), then the other wouldn’t be taking a risk in the form of nicotine and deadly substances as an excuse to get away from their pestering family members.

Even if Ophelia had a horrid day at work, the other’s thought process would never forget the importance of her kids when making any life-altering decisions.

But, it’s a sore topic, and Olive would be an idiot in thinking otherwise. All the auburn-haired woman can remember is when she announced to the family about her pregnancy. Newly twenty-something, fresh in a couple-month marriage that she suspected would’ve lasted an eternity because she thought she was madly in love ─ at least what her sense made her believe. Nonetheless, it was like witnessing a car wreck glaze across the never-ending sea of optics in rare silence. Their grandmonster immediately demanded the name of Van Doren remained in Olive’s daughter’s (they didn’t know the gender yet) life because it would bring opportunities. Their parents muted and processing the news, just like they learned about the engagement six months prior. Lastly was Ophelia, who began to slip away from her and became hard to read, just sitting there.

It was a sight she despised to relive, but had the youngest twin noticed this would have made an impact in their dynamic, then she would’ve waited. How long? Maybe when she was showing and unable to carry anything before sharp pain slithered through her petite body. Or,  even told them once Laurel was in her world. She wouldn’t have heard the end of this secrecy from them. It could’ve salvaged something or made her believe it could have. It didn’t, but it was a rude awakening in attempting to mend the burns the twins endured because of their parents.

Now early into her early forties, four kids in tow and a second husband who made breaking the walls down bearable, she never quite knew what to expect from the other. The statement about the bench wasn’t far off, but they were never accustomed to wrapping the other in a hug and plethora of cheek kisses. They lived in the same zip code and still managed to avoid each other. So, for the time being, as she observes, the silence deafens her while rocking back and forth on her new Jimmy Choo’s suede until the right time granted her permission.

Which, it did when Ophelia bit the bullet and began to speak about their mother. Unexpectedly, it brought a faint upturned expression on her nude-coated petals at how on the nose that remark is. There’s something about their mother and getting a high telling her daughters off in front of others that is daunting, yet amusing at the same time. An odd combination but worked best to describe the Van Doren’s. “Doesn’t make a difference,” Her falsetto is quiet but finally glides into the conversation. She’s never had a range of tone that made others turn their heads. It’s always been mute or squeaky ─ unless she was not in the mood to talk about something or something was bothering her, but the latter frequently happened with Preston, and when he began to knock down the wall of trust issues she developed over the years. “It’s a high. Regardless of how old we are, mom will always have her parenting pants on,” she says, feeling the need to clarify, “Though, as we’re aware, her methods from our childhood were unsuccessful.”

The moment intended to remain lighthearted and beat around the bush, joke about the past even if it was traumatizing. Only until Ophelia nipped the evident elephant in the room as a sigh of relief passed from her mouth. It’s not like Olive has ever been good with addressing things upfront with those she cared about. If she could, and trust the fact she’s tried, to avoid it entirely, then more to them all. However, it wouldn’t happen this time. “I figured you had enough being asked about what exactly happened,” she says with a shrug. “I didn’t want to be another person to add fuel to the fire that isn’t going to die down anytime soon.” It came out sincere because heaven knows if roles were opposite, she would’ve hoped her sister understood how life-shattering and heartbreaking to land such an opportunity only to be swiped from you.

Though, what did sting is her sister’s assumption, and the fact Olive would be happy about the other’s failure to share it with others. Vaulted brows immediately pinch themselves together as a distasteful expression began to creep through. “That’s fucking low.” Even for you, she wanted to say but no, it wasn’t in her to pick a fight. “I don’t talk about your business to others in the industry. They might ask and think I’m so stupid to open my mouth, but it’s not my life, let alone my place to share your dirty laundry or what happens behind the scenes for you. I have enough going on.”

DATE + TIME: July 3rd at 10:30 PM

LOCATION: In the driveway of Van Doren Estate / Charleston, South Carolina

It hasn’t been easy.

The last couple of months, specifically in the previous few weeks, has put things at the forefront in ways Benjamin and Ophelia have never experienced before. Sure, there had been headlines and articles about their romance when they were younger and down to speculation to when they’ll settle down and bring miniature versions of each other into the world. But nothing has ever compared his wife’s latest circulation being fired, or let go in the polite terms, from an opportunity unlike anything before.

For years, they’ve worked on projects together. It caused brows to rise and people to scoff in distaste because it was almost like a hand-out. From the standpoint of Benjamin and his position on the back of the infinite shows he’s worked on, his wife brought life and performances, unlike anything he’s seen before. It’s utter bias, and he knows it. However, he’s sat through thousands of auditions over the years only to utter the words ‘it isn’t right’ until Ophelia came in and caused the hair on the back of his neck to rise, the effect of sitting on the edge of his seat in wonder at her performance because it was there along. 

So, it stung in a defeating way to witness his wife receiving the short end of the stick. This acting credit would be unlike anything she experienced before ─ further pushing her to the stardom that she’s worked feverishly toward, even if it meant to somehow at the age of forty to prove something to her parents that she’s doing it and will continue to do it.

Every form of progression forward comes with success or a tumble from the lofty lift of stairs to a near-death experience since nothing ever just ended up in the middle. The universe wasn’t dealt with that way. No one could sit in the middle for a prolonged period and be congenial to that. It would be a blockage in his wife’s path, but something new will (and he’s determined about this even if Benjamin has to stick his neck out to make it happen because seeing her happy is happiness) happen. 

Currently, the thought of work and everything that’s happened finds no position in the frontal lobe of his conscience. He knows how to put a halt to intrusive thoughts before they could consume him entirely. Especially since, he’s enduring the Van Doren’s like it’s no other. He’s always had a way of being charismatic and get along with anyone ─ even if they frequently acted like they were better than him and their shit didn’t stink. He didn’t let anyone else’s behavior affect him because it wasn’t worth it to waste his energy on it. If people didn’t want to be their best selves, no one should have the capacity or the capability to tear him down from the mountain high he resides on. Of course, he’s dealt with first-hand experience and his wife’s grandmonster, the nickname Ophelia and Olive gave to their grandmother many years back, wrinkled expression to twist and turn in a plethora of irritation, but everyone else was manageable to the volume that he remembers these trips to the daunting estate are short-lived and not often because of their crammed schedule. 

But it isn’t over yet with the Van Doren’s. 

For tonight, yes, as Benjamin awaits for the valet (of course) to retrieve their rental vehicle from who knows where it’s located, his quietude isn’t frightening whatsoever. He let Ophelia finish off with the pleasantries, or whatever dimension of goodbye she had left in her, before feeling his missing half stroll up beside him. Like a moth attracted to the gleaming light, his arm slithered around her slender waist as he pulled her closer to him before his lips found the tender spot of her neck to greet her with a long-awaited sign of affection. Benjamin always watched his public affection around her family, but the minute they were within arm’s distance from him, he would do anything to make up for the evening full of distance.

“Hey gorgeous,” his husky, baritone-laced range mumbled against the opaque flesh of her neck, nostrils filling themselves in the familiar fragrance that she adored. It was discontinued five years ago, which Benjamin made sure he purchased every store within the fifty-mile radius, but it was something he could never get used to. It was a smell, of course. His breathtaking wife wore a scent, and it meant the world to him because Ophelia is, and has always been, the light that brought him home. “How did it go in there?” A brief pause, blessing her neck with another kiss before proceeding. “What time are we expected to show up as statutes tomorrow?” Which, a positive of yet another day in the estate would mean Preston also be showing face and keeping him company while the South Carolina royalty discussed amongst themselves. “I only packed a limited amount of suit and ties, babe.” 

Blake had reached a point in their life they both never thought she would and was incredibly ashamed they had.

The whole day they had to battle with feelings of anguish and bittersweetness as they had absolutely no clue what their life would be like moving forward. The months they had spent secluded in the rehabilitation center had not prepared them for the overwhelming amount of messages and love they never thought they would receive. It made them hopeful that someday they would be finally able to quiet the monster ever so present inside their mind. Still, they needed to be patient and take it one step at a time. If all went well, their managers were carefully excited about an upcoming project by the end of the year— but it would only be able to happen had they sustained their sobriety until them and showed signs of improvement and stability.

Signs of improvement and stability was something also asked by the court. Hitting rock bottom only truly felt like rock bottom when Sawyer’s guardianship was fully given to her father, meaning Blake didn’t really get to watch her daughter turn into the beautiful 5 year old she was now when Blake chose to stay in the rock bottom for a few more years. However, since they had walked out of rehab with high remarks from the team, Noah allowed them a few moments of bliss, with him around, of course, but Blake didn’t complain. Every moment with their daughter was something to be cherished and held close to their heart. Sawyer was turning into a quick witted and snarky child just like they were when they were her age and her chestnut brown hair and bright blue eyes made Noah roll his and ask Sawyer what black magic had they done to make their daughter be the spitting image of her.

The bittersweetness came when it was time to let her go and whenever Sawyer escaped their embrace, Blake knew they weren’t meant to be left alone. One of the many reasons why they had gladly accepted Cleo’s invitation for some girl time. During their journey, their best friend had been of great help. Not only was she the godmother of their daughter, but Cleo had also held their hand in multiple occasions when needed. and Blake needed her multiple times. From nasty withdrawals and even worst relapses, to new projects, to fucking up and complaining about their parents, Cleo had been there through it all and Blake could honestly say  they had their fair share of fucking up towards the blonde. Addicts cannot be trusted, someone once told them, and for their own sake, Blake hoped they could turn it around and not be considered in the addict group anymore.

Being able to slip into Cleo’s apartment building unnoticed, Blake makes it up the stairs in no time and uses their own key to unlock the front door, smiling when they hear their best friend’s voice coming from the kitchen. They wont lie and say that Cleo’s apartment doesn’t feel more like home than their own apartment, but Blake doesn’t want to be a liability, they don’t want to make Cleo feel as if she needs to tend to them 24/7 and their therapist had said that they need to learn how to face some things alone, as well, so they had craftly brushed off their best friend’s attempts to make a roommate out of them. “Well, I mean, not saying that you should start selling some boards with your wine, but—” Blake rolls their shoulders, “maybe that’s a business venue you can explore later on in life, with your Midas touch,” they grin and press a greeting kiss to Cleo’s cheek before opening her fridge and taking out a bottle of water.

“Tell you what, we can go in the terrace and enjoy your view, but if it gets to cold we’ll put a movie in?” The brunette suggests before taking a small sip from the bottle. “Oh, by the way, I have been meaning to ask, when is your photoshoot with that hunk of a man coming out? I’ve seen the preview pics you sent me and I can definitely tell you there will be many men and women alike licking the pages.”

There aren’t many people that Cleo trusts besides the obvious two, her sister, and Blake, with the growing presence of Gabriel Livingston in the last month and a half.

It stems from multiple sources: the obvious being her glacial, puppet-like upbringing from Evelyn Halliwell, the way people had managed to treat her over the years, or simply because the blonde kept the majority of people at arm’s length distance because of the prior reason.

People can hurt you, regardless of it’s romantic or amongst friends. Someone manages to find a way to dig a knife into your back and cause the slightly increased barrier of trust to enhance over time. Questioning each person’s motive or reason for their sudden association with you. It isn’t something one could predict or prepare for because if someone knew ahead of time, life lessons wouldn’t be taught. But, where the failures have existed in the past, there comes a few unique, passionate souls willing to love you on your worst day or worst thoughts without doubting you because they know better than to assume everyone is perfect. Blake is that person to her.

It hadn’t been easy for either one of them ─ Blake more than Cleo, but their connection blossomed from the first moment they were introduced to one another. It was curiosity meeting curious. One with a past full of glorious victories and awards lining their walls, whereas the other was a failed ballerina who learned rapidly where her other forms of success might lie. This was Wikipedia information that anyone could read about if they ever wanted to read about their favorite celebrity and drag to others. But what lay between their dynamic hood is the understanding, knowledge of the other’s suffering, and the need to be each other’s rock on their darkest days, especially in the latest endeavor of Blake’s stint in rehab to get back steady on their two feet and to have more rights to Sawyer, who happens to be Cleo’s goddaughter and a sign of belief that if she were to become a mother that she’ll give the kid everlasting love, unlike anything she experienced before.

Frequently over the last few years, the platinum locked down sat in the courtroom as a supportive soul witnessing the proceeding unfold as she prayed for the judge to grant her best friend any sort of immunity. Other times, the confident, songbird falsetto from Cleo roared through the courtroom as the judges asked her opinion on her best friend’s progress in their recovery. Every time, without hesitation, she said things with an honest tone and look, hoping this would make an impact. At some points, it did, but other times when the emotional cycle of relapsed happened, it was an immediate right off. But this time around, the months growing happily, the light that previously lacked in Blake’s peanut orbs, has returned to the surface. It’s the first thing Cleo saw when the other arrived at the apartment this evening.

A bark of laughter, immediately followed by the roll of her oceanic optics, settled in the air for a moment. So many potential backup plans if Cleo’s career fell off the wagon, but the woman didn’t work hard all of these years, let alone allow a reality television show in her face for four seasons during university, to have it be snapped out of existence. “You sound exactly like Ava.” Which isn’t a bad thing, considering her sister has quipped about a backup career option for Cleo less than a couple of weeks ago. Though, with the way her falsetto says the remark, it comes off bitter than it should when in comparison, the light and lively expression on the blonde’s naturally vaulted features. “At least you two believe in me. So if it comes to the point where I should continue being extra, I’ll credit you both for filling my head with ideas,” she beams uncharacteristically as a hand falls on the petite back of the other as they greeted each other in their frequent cheek kisses.

“Sounds like the perfect solution. You get to pick the movie too,” she hums effortlessly before taking the charcuterie and her glass water before ascending the frequently referenced flight risk of stairs to the terrace. Cleo knows she could drink. It’s not like she’d be the person to trigger Blake, even many times, she called the other out when it was evident a slip-up happened. But today, she lacked the sipping of water to be hydrated and was making it up well into the evening ─ better late than never, she concluded. Setting the board and her glass down on a custom-made coasters with “CH” before flicking on the set of dim string lights to enhance the ambiance of a relaxing evening while others endured their fourth of July festivities with alcohol, fireworks, and God knows what else.

Which it did make her wonder what Gabe was doing tonight. Probably something with his family since the Livingston were knit-tight and big on traditions. Maybe letting his niece and nephew cling to his back like a sloth as he walked around the backyard as they were glistening with broad expressions and living in the moment because the overflowing love existed amongst them.

Though without even realizing it, there’s a steadfast upturned expression dangling on her mouth just at the moment her best friend asks about the photoshoot. Swiftly in a masking expression to conceal and remain calm, which won’t last long because Cleo doesn’t know how to keep anything from the other, she sits on the plush outdoor furniture opposite. “In two weeks at a launch, which I hope you’ll be there,” Songbird begins, “They’ll all be fawning over Gabe, let’s be honest. You saw the pictures, and it’s clear that he’s meant to have a side career as a model. I’m just the one that took the plunge and was grateful he was comfortable in doing it.” Of course, she went out of her way to make sure everything was spectacular, and no issues would arise. But that’s for the reason the blonde wanted to make the project leading up nothing but a success. It felt like a favor in the beginning, but soon before she even knew it, it was blossoming into the status of having a crush.

Oh God, when was the last time she had a crush? Probably on her last boyfriend, who ended the relationship with the glacial words that she’s unlovable or hard to love.

“Anyway,” Clearing her throat from the thoughts that rude-fully interrupted her, there’s a faint pink color gliding upon her cheeks speaking about the Livingston boy, “believe it or not, I was the lucky one to be in his presence.”