i shine in quiet ways

John’s mouth twisted in discomfort at the girl’s words. She hadn’t said anything damning, of course, but had divulged a tidbit of information regarding her brother. John knew nothing about the tiny brunette before him, but what he’d earlier mistaken for cowardice and a bashful nature, now appeared to be turning ever so slightly into desperation. In any other instance he might very well have thought it pathetic, but in actuality it was sort of cute. She was putting all of this effort into gaining nothing more than a simple cake for her brother’s birthday. This was no life changing, world upturning matter – it was as simple as getting a five year old a sugary snack. He thought of his own family; the parents that seemed to despise every fibre of his being while being unimaginably proud of Toby – it was never going to have mattered what kind of man John had grown to, they’d given up on him from the minute he was conceived. He was a matter of convenience, somebody born out of a desire to further their empire, and never out of love. Both Tobias and Cordelia had been wanted additions to the family, but that certainly didn’t mean that John loved them any less.

He loved them the way that they deserved to be loved, and not the half-assed ‘affection’ that their parents seemed capable of. Cordelia would be five some day, 4 years from now to be precise, and he knew that he’d be teeming with rage if somebody had taken something from her; even something as simple as a cake. Good Lord, why was this nameless child tugging on his heartstrings? It was downright pitiful.

He said nothing to that, deciding that silence were the better option than allowing nostalgia to win over. In truth, he didn’t have the slightest clue what to say, and instead focused on the offer that he handed her, deciding that maybe he might have a little luck there. If at least she thought he wanted to take her on a date – which, frankly, wouldn’t be such a ghastly idea – then he could set Blossom aside and make some little boy’s day. He noted, with a smile, the gorgeous smile that graced her lips. It lit up her whole entire face, and he realised with a jolt that it was his own false pretences that had driven her to this momentary state of euphoria. That soon came crashing to a halt.

Ah.

John had faced rejection many a time before, and he never batted an eyelid. It didn’t phase him in the slightest, truly. He knew that he was a desirable man, so he didn’t need to seek validation from strangers in a supermarket. That being said, he didn’t find enjoyment in the discomfort that registered on her face. He could practically see her skin crawling.

Somehow, this total stranger seemed to be getting the better of him, and he found himself eager to apologise; to set her straight and reassure her that there was nothing suspect going on here, and that he wasn’t about to force her into a scenario that she quite clearly didn’t want. No sooner than he’d had the thought, however, she was standing her ground, and he found the corner of his lips twitching at her gall. Perhaps he’d gotten her wrong, and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Admittedly, it was a little tentative and carried the occasional stutter, but it was impressive nonetheless.

“Fair enough,” he noted, with a swift nod. “Have a great day, sweetheart. And, happy birthday to that little brother of yours.”

At that, he gave the basket in his hands a little shake, as though to put further emphasis on the item that he’d gotten a hold of, and turned on his heels and began walking away.

He barely made it halfway down the aisle, however, when he froze on the spot, thinking once again of Cordelia. Fuck it. He thought of the brazen way with which he’d wished her nameless brother a happy birthday, and he wondered absently just when he’d grown quite so cold? Had it happened before he’d gotten together with Blossom? Was it after their relationship, or somewhere in between? He certainly couldn’t answer that, but regardless he knew that the redhead wasn’t to blame – only he could take responsibility for his own actions, even if he didn’t want to.

With a groan, he ran a hand over his face, shaking his head gently, before turning back to the brunette. Tapping his foot a little petulantly against the floor, he eventually strode back towards the spot he’d just left, and scowled at her. Retrieving the cake from his basket, he held it out for her; free for her to take.

“There. It’s all yours. Kids can be a right pain in the arse when they don’t get what they want, but no doubt you’ll be feeling the effects of that sugar high later tonight,” he muttered. He tried to keep his tone cool, not wanting her to read anything into it. He wasn’t being charming or kind, and he wasn’t trying to win her over. It wasn’t worth a second thought, and he was sure he’d regret it in an hour when he was facing Blossom’s wrath. 

It was to Ruby’s horror that she realised the guy in front of her wasn’t kidding. He really had given her an ultimatum: a date with him for the cake, or bust. She couldn’t quite believe her ears when he stated his conditions. Sure, those things happened in movies, but they didn’t really happen to real life, least of all to her. Certain that the man was making fun of her, given that there was no way he could have any real desire to go on a date with the likes of herself, she wrapped her arms around her frame and attempted to suppress the shakes that wracked her body, an after effect of her small rant to him.

It couldn’t even be called that, but it had been a tiny act of defiance on her part. Ruby was all too used to giving into the will of others, or simply having Gerard stick up for her. She was incapable of standing up for herself, but it seemed like even she drew the line at demands that compromised her own security. This man intimidated her, and he was probably well aware of that fact if the smirk he wore was anything to go by.

“Please, isn’t there any way that you can just…” Her voice was too quiet and timid for him to hear her. And he was already walking away from her. With the cake.

She lifted her head, shocked. If she was honest with herself, she’d been foolishly clinging onto a last bit of hope that he’d turn around and act like a decent person, giving her the cake with no ridiculous strings attached. But instead she had to watch his retreating figure while his parting words rang in her head like he’d slapped her with them.

She stood next to the open freezer, gripping the door and staring forlornly up at the empty top shelf. What was she supposed to do now? Going back empty handed didn’t seem like an option, but it was also the only one that she had. Victor would be devastated and he’d be bound to kick up a fuss that would send her poor mom and dad deeper into stress. Deflated, Ruby knocked her head against the fridge door and squeezed her eyes shut, desperately willing away the sudden and overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

Her eyes snapped open when she heard someone by her side, and she looked up to see the same man scowling down at her. Figuring he probably wanted to leave her with a scathing remark about her rudeness upon rejecting him, Ruby braced herself for words she wouldn’t be able to deflect and flinched at once. But the verbal blow never came and Ruby was left to stand and stare dumbly at the cake that was being offered to her.

“What?” she asked, gaping up at the man. As shy as Ruby was though, she wasn’t stupid and she quickly accepted the box just in case her delay triggered the man’s temper and he snatched it back. Clutching the cake with both hands, Ruby managed to stammer out, “Th-thank you.”

She stepped away and gently closed the fridge door. Awkwardly adjusting her beanie, Ruby realised that her muttered remark wasn’t at all satisfactory enough, and so she conjured up the warmest smile she was capable of and directed it at the guy who stood a head and shoulders taller than her.

“Really, thank you,” she told him, earnestly, suddenly feeling brave.

“You’ve saved his birthday party. And I’m sorry about before.” She bit her lip and averted her gaze while her cheeks burned brightly. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to go out with you. I just don’t really… date.”

Her shoulders dropped lamely and she let out a stuttered, self-deprecating laugh. Nodding down at the cake, she smiled.

“I know it’s stupid, but this is really nice of you,” she told the man. “Thanks.”

John wasn’t entirely prone to turning down sex. Call him every name under the sun, whatever you like, but if one thing could be said for certain it was that he knew how to have fun. That being said; he knew his limits, and other peoples’ too. There was nothing fun about desperation; he’d take a quick and easy fuck any day of the week, and the second he caught wind of Nic’s sultry stare, or felt Georgie scrambling for his attention, he’d be theirs for the taking. It was when he was subjected to those who knew of his reputation (and, quite frankly, who didn’t); those who sought to be ‘deflowered’ by the great John Smith, or those who thought that losing their virginity might give them some sort of upper hand and land them one wrung higher on the social ladder – those were the kind of people he didn’t have time for. They were all confusion and uncertainty, a muddle of expectations and desire, mingled with intrigue, all wrapped up in a neat little bow with their crippling fear to top it all off. John didn’t have the time in the day to deal with such utter nonsense. He wanted to have fun. He didn’t care about care about Nic or Blossom’s insecurities and their own desperate thirst (it wasn’t relevant, not really); so long as they were happy, consenting adults, who walked away (or, if John was feeling particularly generous, hobbled away) feeling fulfilled, then that’s all he gave a shit about.

Gaston, for example, was a prime example of exactly that. It was clear as day to anybody with a bit of common sense that the man wasn’t straight – anybody could see it. He was hardly subtle, flirting his way through social media, coming on to guys and girls alike, even if only to stroke his own ego. It couldn’t possibly be a secret that he was prone to slipping away from the confines of Cherry Grove and venturing further out to find a stranger to fuck in the back of some gay bar that couldn’t possibly trace him back to the small town. John figured you’d have to be some kind of idiot to not be able to see through him. All the same, if he wasn’t ready to come out, and had no interest in responding to John’s advances, he wouldn’t chase him. Sex is only ever fun so long as every participant is enjoying themselves; a firm no isn’t always the only teller that the other person doesn’t really want it. John might be a pig, but he liked a good fuck, and there was no use wasting all of their times if one, or more, of them felt any uncertainty.

Of course, sex wasn’t entirely on the cards right now, and wasn’t quite the subject of his current interaction. No, in fact, not even John had quite explored the possibility of fucking someone in the frozen foods aisle of a supermarket – not yet, anyway. But the girl before him, she was a curious one, he thought. Her wide eyed look, the way she stuttered anxiously under his gaze, and the gorgeous blush that rose to her cheeks; there was something quite endearing about it, he supposed. She seemed shy, bashful perhaps, and quite out of her depths. But it was a prime example of just when John knew where to draw the line. Tilting his head to the side he eyed her curiously, smirked, and took one step backwards, removing himself from her own personal space.

Had he been Gaston, he might have told her to spit it out, love, or something to that effect, but in actuality he merely watched, waiting, intrigued as to what direction their interaction might go in. Eventually, she managed to stutter out a few words, and John smirked at her, glancing down at the cake that he’d shoved into his basket.

“Is there… Oh! Any more? No, I think not, sweetheart,” he told her, offering her an apologetic smile. He’d nabbed the last one, and he supposed it was another instance in which his towering stature benefited him. For extra measure, he craned his neck to take one last peek, before shrugging his shoulders in utter indifference. “Nope, not a slice, darling.”

He wasn’t sure what more he could do for her, and time was running short; if he didn’t get his arse in gear, no amount of cake would get him on Blossom’s good side, and she’d be holed up in her bedroom with the door locked, the cake to herself, and her legs firmly shut. I mean, after all, it was hardly his problem that the girl before him hadn’t been fast enough – or tall enough.

“Sorry again, love. Better luck next time, gorgeous,” he winked.

He moved to turn away, only to be caught again by her words. They were firmer this time, not a stutter to be heard. She still wore that same look of uncertainty, though, and he sighed. Of course. Bloody charity case, huh?

“Your brother, hm? How old is he?” he mused, unsure why his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He thought then of his own siblings; of Tobias, who was merely a few years younger than himself, and then of Cordelia, his baby sister. Unlike John, the two had been brought into this world intentionally. Neither of them had been a power play, a tool to expand on their father’s empire. His mother and father had wanted them, and they made it terribly well known just how much they preferred the younger Smith’s to John himself. He could never begrudge them that, though. Tobias was the closest thing he’d ever had to a best friend, and Cordelia was only a baby – he loved her more than anything in the world. He could understand the girl’s plight, suddenly, and why she might be desperate to do something for her younger sibling.

“You’d like the cake, wouldn’t you?” he asked, making the rather obvious deduction. Nodding slowly, he grew more confident as he watched her. “Alright, love, how about it? I give you the cake, and you go on a date with me.” 

Ruby’s nerves were like a tightly coiled spring at that moment, so much so that as soon as the man stepped back and granted her room to breath, the air left her in one swift gasp. She tried hard not to think about how embarrassing that was, too grateful not to be pressed up against a total stranger while the chill from the fridge door behind her annoyingly nipped at her bum. The situation was just uncomfortable in so many ways.

She knew the answer her question would receive because she’d seen the empty shelf for herself, but she possessed a secret sort of hope that maybe he’d realise that she really, truly needed the cake in order to save her little brother’s birthday party from inevitable doom. Yes, he had stepped into her personal space. Yes, he had taken the cake after seeing she was struggling to reach it. But perhaps if her plight was made clear than he would end up turning out to be a good samaritan of sorts and hand it over. Ruby wasn’t much of an optimist, more of a hopeful idealist, and the ideal outcome of this whole scenario would be the blonde man graciously passing the ice cream cake over and allowing her to sneak out without any further embarrassment.

As soon as she saw the smirk he wore, she knew that wouldn’t be the case.

“Oh. Okay. Right,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat that was now downright painful. But she wouldn’t cry, she refused to cry. She was slowly losing grip of her dignity but she hasn’t fully let go yet. Refusing to cry over such a stupid thing was helping her regain her hold of the situation.

She was busy thinking about his insincere this man’s apology was and how she shouldn’t let her discontent show clearly on her face when she finally caught onto the nickname he’d tacked onto the end of his sentence. Staring at the man with wide eyes, akin to a deer caught in headlights, there was nothing else for Ruby to do but blush. She hated that she’d been cursed with a trait that suited her name perfectly, because she was fully aware that her cheeks were a bright ruby red at that moment. Did he really just call her gorgeous? 

“Um... okay!” she managed to get out, her voice sounding strangled and high-pitched. Deciding that it would be best for all involved if she made her timely exit now, she went to move around the man when his question stopped her. Halting in her path, she looked up at him with a small frown puckering her eyebrows.

“He’s five today,” she said, tugging agitatedly at her sleeves and pulling them over her hands that managed to be both cold and clammy at the same time, wondering what Victor’s age could possibly have to do with anything. 

She couldn’t help but wince when the man made a rather blunt observation about her wanting the cake. Politeness almost prompted her to shake her head and encourage the man to go ahead and take the cake for himself, but her mind flashed back to Victor’s tantrum earlier that day, the way he’d smacked his hands off the table and thrown his badge and hollered until he was blue in the face. Ruby definitely wouldn’t say that she wanted to perpetuate her little brother’s penchant for tantrums by giving him everything he wanted, but it was his birthday and she knew her mom and dad just wanted something to go right for once. As trivial as it might seem, this ice cream cake could make or break the whole day. A mixture of ice cream and sponge had never been so influential and she looked down at where it currently resided in the man’s basket before mustering all the courage she could and, eventually, she nodded.

“Yes...” she murmured quietly. When the man insisted she could have it, her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hope flared in her chest and, despite herself, she found a smile bursting onto her face, unbridled and all too grateful. That was until he added on his condition and her hopes were obliterated and the smile wiped away.

“What?” she asked bluntly. She waited a second or two just in case he wanted to let her off the hook and tell her he was joking, but he only continued to stare expectantly at her and she began frantically shaking her head before she could stop herself.

“I - no, thank you. I just... maybe I could give you the money for the cake instead, but I can’t... date you. I don’t even know you. That’s... that’s ridiculous,” she huffed.

... A few things, I guess.

As girlfriends go, Blossom Powers had to be the most insufferable, unimaginably difficult girl in the world. While most wouldn’t consider their… arrangement something worthy of a girlfriend/boyfriend title, and John was positive that Blossom would agree, it was the official label that the pair had adopted for the purpose of the public and, like it or lump it, that was what they were. Admittedly, what had once been a relationship involving two young kids hopelessly fumbling their way through the dating scene with genuine feelings for one another had long since progressed into something far more toxic, but neither John nor Blossom had the capacity to actually call it quits when the sex was as good as it was.

So, really, you could say that Blossom Powers’ vagina was, quite frankly, the cause of all of John’s problems, and the sole reason behind every predicament that he landed himself in. For example, John would have never been late for dinner with his father last week if Blossom hadn’t been sitting on his face and obscuring the clock from his view. Or, perhaps, the time that John had been scolded by sweet little Kitty Blue Eyes for missing an exceptionally important business meeting with some mayor or another from some town that John couldn’t remember the name of. That had been Blossom’s fault too, as the two had gotten into an argument – by no fault of John’s, of course – and she’d had the audacity to look so sexy, standing there in her lingerie, her long, ginger locks trailing down her back, leaving her chest entirely exposed for John. It wasn’t his fault that she’d insisted he need to make it up to her, and that the only way to do so was for her to be flat on her back with John’s tongue – well, you get the idea. The point was, Blossom was a liability and John was in no way responsible for her, and she was completely, one hundred percent to blame for any and all of his own misgivings.

So, naturally, when he and Blossom had found themselves in yet another argument, and with a long night of socialising and putting on the front of happy, lovestruck couple ahead of them, the redhead and pain in his arse had insisted that he run to the shop and stock up on a long list of comfort foods to help her through the ordeal. John had rolled his eyes and refused, only to find himself in a rather compromising position, with Blossom unzipping his trousers and giving him a treat of her own in return for him returning home with the exact brand of ice cream cake that she’d asked for. John had sent a wink her way, told her ice cream for you, you cream for me in what he’d thought was an endearing fashion, only to be laid victim to a swift punch on the arm before being told to get fucked.

Now, well and truly put in his place, John was traipsing around Cherry Grove, flitting from supermarket to small corner shops in the hopes of finding her stupid fucking ice cream cake. And all for what? A nice, pretty headline here and there to keep his reputation nicely in tact? Maybe later he’d remember why it was worth it, but right now he really wished the entitled Yank would piss off.

As he wandered around he supermarket, taking longer than should have been necessary after being stopped on every aisle by some cute little piece in want of a selfie for her instagram followers, he finally made it to the frozen foods section, and his gaze landed on a cute little brunette. Wobbling up on her tiptoes, her cute little bum wiggling as she grappled and flailed for something on the top shelf, John waited for a little moment, watching her quite contentedly. It was a pretty nice view, after all. After a moment’s deliberation, he continued onwards, realising that was the direction he needed to go anyways, and a perfect opportunity for chatting up some sexy little thing that might want to go for a quick fumble in the back of his limo. Before he made a move, however, he figured he should probably put himself out of his own misery and grab that damned ice cream cake and, on his approach, he realised with a triumphant aha! that there was just one more in stock. Well, both he and Blossom would be eating well later, it seemed.

With one swift and easy motion, he leaned over the tiny brunette and swiped the box from the shelf and placed it into the basket in his other hand, before leaning himself against the fridge and letting his eyes scan her, a smirk ghosting the corners of his lips. It occurred to him, in that moment, that he’d taken her by surprise, and his mind whirred delightedly as he saw a perfect opportunity for some heroics. As she stumbled backwards, wobbling on the spot, he reached out his free hand to steady her, curling it around her waist and placing it firmly on the small of her back.

“Careful now, darling. Wouldn’t want to damage the goods now, would we?” he commented, all the while biting seductively on his lower lip. His eyes met hers, wide and brown, nothing quite like they made them in London. “Just as well I was on hand to come to your rescue, hm?” 

In the blink of an eye, an unwelcome hand had found its hand on the small of Ruby’s back and she froze. The weight of it seemed to overwhelm her other senses and all she seemed to be able to think about was the fact that she was trapped between this man in front of her and his hand, which made escape impossible. It calmed her only a little to remember that they were in the middle of a supermarket and, by Cherry Grove’s standards at least, it was relatively busy. Maybe someone would see how uncomfortable she looked and would come to her aid but, for the time being, she had to make do with stepping into the only available empty space she could which was inches away from the fridge. Would she honestly rather freeze than have some man who could potentially just be harmless invading her personal space? At this point in time, yes.

She peered up at him when he spoke, her eyebrows twitching minutely in confusion. Did he think he had saved her or something? Gone were the thoughts of him perhaps being a decent fellow like Gerard or Seth, and Ruby’s inner panic steadily began to rise again. Inhaling shakily, she knew better than to argue with the man and simply tugged uncomfortably at the sleeves of her sweater.

“Um… thank you?” she said eventually. While she didn’t necessarily think that it was the right thing to say, it was probably what the other guy wanted to hear. And if he got what he wanted in that sense then maybe he would be more inclined to leave her alone.

Her eyes darted down to his shopping basket where the ice cream cake she’d been trying to reach now resided. It was stupid, so incredibly stupid, but a lump suddenly made itself known in Ruby’s throat. She didn’t want to admit to it but the sight, and spotting it right after her personal space had been breached, made her want to cry. Craning her neck up to the top shelf of the fridge, she noticed it was now barren and empty with no more ice cream cakes to buy. He’d taken the last one after seeing her desperately trying to reach it.

“Um… I… you…” she stuttered, fingers shaking as she felt her face begin to heat up despite the chill emanating from the fridge. She couldn’t ask for the ice cream cake outright because Ruby didn’t ask things like that. Not to her friends, never mind total strangers. But she knew that she couldn’t go home empty handed. She would ruin Victor’s birthday if she did which placed her in quite the predicament.

Her character-identifying shy streak had sent her spiralling into one of her blustering, bumbling episodes though and, with a beetroot red face, she forced herself to look up at the man in front of her. He was handsome, yes, and Ruby was just momentarily grateful that handsome men had never been of particular interest to her, because she was almost certain that would leave her even more tongue-tied than before. Men didn’t look twice at Ruby, which meant she had no reason to stare after them. And, as flirtatious as this man seemed to be, Ruby doubted it had anything to do with her.

“Your cake… the ice cream cake,” she managed to choke out. Her face was burning and she felt dizzy. “Did… Is there… Is there anymore? I can’t reach.”

She knew there weren’t any left, but this was her way of letting him know that she wanted the cake. And maybe he could prove her wrong and turn out to be decent after all and hand it over, especially since he’d seen her trying to get it.

“I need it for my brother’s birthday,” she said, her first coherent sentence so far.

Really, she was just eager to get away from Victor’s temper tantrum. James had waltzed around claiming that they shouldn’t give into his tears, with all the superiority a 13-year-old could muster, and while Ruby agreed, she knew that her parents didn’t really have it in them at the moment to tell off Victor. Especially on his birthday.

The day was meant to be a small reprieve from the stress and worry surrounding them after some unknown source had let slip that some business man was eyeing up the mines, hoping to buy them out. Yes, it was only a rumour, but one that hung heavily over the Shaw household. Ruby didn’t know what her family would do if the mines were closed down all because a rich man in a suit decided that the land would satisfy his own needs more. She’d taken on more shifts at the hospital, helping to clean bedpans and sort out patient files, but that didn’t really help pay the bills.

Spending money they didn’t necessarily have on an ice cream cake seemed like a silly thing to do, but Ruby understood that her parents just wanted one day where everyone was happy, so she made her way into the supermarket, pausing by the door to stomp off excess slush clinging to the bottom of her boots.

The cold nipped at her gloveless fingers, and pulling open the fridge door didn’t necessarily help. Her eyes scanned the shelves of ice cream tubs and frozen cheesecakes in search of that essential ice-cream-and-cake combination that her little brother’s birthday party would be doomed to fail without.

Craning her neck, she spotted one on the top shelf, at the exact same moment that she realised these fridges weren’t designed to lend a helping hand to those who were slightly vertically challenged. Ruby had never had many qualms with her appearance as she hid herself behind knit jumpers and beanies anyway, but her height had always been a little bit of a hindrance. Bertie had told her it was cute and had patted her on the head after telling her that he wanted to ‘put her in his pocket’. Ruby figured he hadn’t meant to be patronising, but it hadn’t encouraged her to appreciate her whole five feet and one inch stature.

Pushing herself onto her tiptoes, she stretched her arm out. Her fingers barely grazed the box, scraping against the icy frost that coated the cardboard before she ultimately had to settle back down on the ground again and let out a small huff.

Asking for help wasn’t much of an option as that would only mean she’d have to talk to someone, so she tried again. When it became clear to her that she wasn’t about to have a miraculous growth spurt in the next five minutes that would help her reach the cake, Ruby resigned herself to the fact that she’d have to call on a taller employee to help her out. As she stood there, psyching herself up and sounding out her request in her head to make sure each word sounded alright, she hadn’t been aware of someone approaching her and all but jumped out of her skin when an arm shot out above her head and grabbed the cake.

“Oh!” she gasped, taking a quick step backwards. Her back jarred painfully against the door handle of the fridge and her eyes watered at once. Blinking away the moisture, she attempted to duck under the man’s arm and run right out of there. But she soon became painfully aware of the fact that, as it was, she was trapped in between the refrigerator and the hulking body of a stranger who seemed intent on getting the same cake she was looking for.

Whoever keeps saying mean things about Ger on the gossip blog.

We can buy a ‘birthday boy’ banner, cross out ‘birthday’, and write ‘bar mitzvah’ - wait, tacky?

Would you prefer my answer or Jamie’s?

Sounds like a Mom thing to do. We can get extra to placate her. And I’ll stay away from the streamers. I can’t promise we won’t get a banner though.

I think we can maybe reach a compromise on a banner, although I’m not sure if you get bar mitzvah banners at Party City.

Well, I’ll try my best not to embarrass him. Is another run to Party City in the cards?

It seems like it. My mom is freaking out a little bit because she doesn’t think we’re going to have enough napkins and paper plates for some reason.