#lorirwrites

He closed his eyes, his fingers expertly strummed the chords when the faint sound of her melodious soprano voice played in the background. Raleigh opened his eyes and sat up to watch the TV. In a talk show, the hosts talked about Tiffani, her newest single and their relationship, mentioning their appearance at Global Aid International charity fundraiser, where he gave the speech and she appeared smiling, giving him a thumbs up. On the show, the hosts pondered about what kind of influence he would have on her career since he had vast experience in the music industry and was known as a rebel.

He rolled eyes and turned the TV off. Assholes... Tiffani wasn't some naive girl who could easily be pushed around. Her sweet delicate face hid a talented, soulful and clever person who can do wonders with her abilities. He sat back on the couch and began to play again, but his thoughts kept going back to her. Her flushed cheeks when they danced together at the nightclub, her smile as she cheered for him during his speech, her eyes glowing, revealing how eager she was to know more about him, his teenage years, his plans to build a community center for kids.

He glanced at his phone. Thirty-seven misses calls and hundreds of messages. He was about to shut down the phone when her name popped on the screen. A broad smile spread on his lips as he opened the message. Tiffani sent him a selfie of her with teenage girls in the oncology ward of a hospital wearing blue wigs just like the one she wore on her music video, a map location and the following subtitles: "Your girlfriends say hi 😜"

He smirked, stood up and dialed a number on his phone as he walked to his room. "Hey, I need a car. Stat."

...

Cheers and applause echoed in the oncology ward of a small hospital in New York as two girls bowed to the crowd of patients and a few nurses while Shane recorded the mini talent show. They walked out of the improvised stage and smiled as Raleigh put his guitar aside and waved them over so they could take selfies with him.

"Thank you, ladies. That was a great performance and I think Avery will be pleased with your version of Lift Me Up," Tiffani grinned. "Now, who else wants to sing with Raleigh Carrera?"

A few other children stepped up to sing at the mini talent show until Raleigh and Tiffani said their goodbyes to the patients, the hospital staff, posed for a few photos and left the building together. In the car, Raleigh glanced at Tiffani's radiant smile as she gazed at the streets. "Hey, fake girlfriend, what are you thinking about?"

"Fiona sent me a text to tell me that Shane's live video of us with the kids helped raise the donations to the hospital and we're trending on Twitter," Tiffani grinned. 

“That’s great. It was really nice of you to do this for those kids. Anyone could tell they were having a blast.”

"I did my best. By the way, thank you."

"No problem. I'm sure you could've accomplished that on your own."

"Maybe, but it’s not just because you showed up. You're the one who inspired me to do this. That night at the charity fundraiser when you told me about the many fake things in the showbusiness, I realized we need more genuine acts in this world and that I could use my image for a good and real cause. So thank you," Tiffani smiled softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"All set, honey," Leo kissed the top of the toddler's head. "Did you pick up hugsie?"

"He is sleeping, daddy," Emma pointed to a penguin stuffed toy already in bed, next to her sister.

"Good. Now let's keep him company." He picked up his daughter in his arms and took her to the bed and tucked them in. 

"Daddy, tell us a story," Ava asked.

"Which one?"

"The guardian angels!" Emma beamed.

"Again? Didn't I tell that story yesterday?" 

"Pleaaaase," the girls said in unison.

He smiled, sat on the bed next to them, cradling the twins with one arm and cleared his throat. "Once there was a boy, a little guardian angel, who lived in a castle of clouds, in a kingdom up in the sky. He was destined to become the guardian of the kingdom like his father and he had these beautiful white wings, but he couldn't fly because his mom and dad said it was too dangerous for him. Because he was a good boy and believed them. He thought his life was perfect and his parents were happy, but then one day his mother left the celestial kingdom to live on Earth and she never returned."

The girls pouted, tugging at their father's shirt.

"His father knew they needed a company, so he got married again. His second wife was a beautiful and caring woman, who gave him another son, but he didn't have wings. The little guardian angel loved his baby brother more than anyone else and protected him from all evil things, even though they fought and played pranks on each other sometimes."

"Do sisters fight too, Daddy?" Ava asked.

"Yes, but it doesn't mean they should. Fighting is bad. We have to solve problems using words, okay?"

The twins nodded.

"When the boy with wings grew older, he saw a glimpse of how life on Earth was. The trees, the animals, the sea. He was mesmerized with it, but he still wasn't allowed to leave. He felt like he lived in a cage, so he would run away from time to time. One day, he fell in love with a human and she fell in love with him too, but humans weren't allowed couldn't in the kingdom on the sky and he couldn't live on Earth as an angel, so he gave up everything to live on Earth with her."

"Was she pretty?" Emma smiled.

"Ah, yes! She was the prettiest human he had ever seen, with her long brown hair, sweet innocent face, she was funny and joined the guardian angel in many adventures."

"She was like mom," Ava affirmed.

"Yes, she was a lot like mom," Leo smiled. "But as I said before, he was destined to be the guardian of the kingdom and his parents were angry he wanted to leave and tried to obligate him to stay. However, his baby brother saw how madly in love his big brother was and defended him at all costs. So he got his freedom and gave his wings to his little brother. And at that moment, he realized the true meaning of being a guardian angel. Their life mission wasn’t just protecting the kingdom in the sky, but to protect the ones they loved. The former guardian angel began to live on Earth, he had his children and he was happy, but he never gave up on his life mission. He always looked out for his loved ones, just like they always looked out for him too."

While Emma was fast asleep, Ava crawled to the other side of the bed with her teddy bear, and lied on her father's large chest, rubbing her hands on her eyes.

Leo kissed the twins' foreheads and grinned to Ava, gently stroking her back until she drifted off. He was about to pick the book on his nightstand and read before sleeping when his phone buzzed.

Fear clouded her judgments. It was a huge responsibility to sing someone else's songs. What if the producers dislike the approach she would give to these songs? What if they disapprove her original ones and don't allow them to be on the record? What if they realize she doesn't have what it takes to make it in the music business?

"Okay, quit whining. Let's be practical," she said to herself. Tiffani opened her acoustic guitar case, placing the guitar on her right thigh and her fingers slid across the fretboard as she played one of the songs the record label had pre-approved for her album. It wasn’t a complex or unpleasant song. But it wasn’t her style. She produced her phone from her pocket and read the lyrics as she reduced the tempo, tapping her boot on the floor to set the pace while her signature guitar pick strummed up and down the strings.

Still not feeling any connection to the song, Tiffani fell back on the couch, throwing her arms over her face. "I need a break..." she mumbled. She needed to get her mind off things. Maybe go out for food or a walk. She texted Shane and waited for his response. Unluckily, he was busy with a project that night. She couldn't call Avery because she was out of town and she didn't want to bother a huge pop star with her insecurities.

Frustrated and now suffering from a tension headache, Tiffani sat up, closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips on her forehead and temples, drawing small circles on them when someone took a seat next to her.

"Rough day?”

She didn’t even have to look to know it was Raleigh. If the sarcasm on his velvety tenor voice couldn’t give him away, the enticing musky scent of his cologne was unmistakable.

“That’s one word for it,” she hissed.

"You're getting feisty… I like it," he smiled slyly. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“The producers want me to sing someone else’s songs and I’m afraid my songs won’t make the cut because they're different from the ones they want in my album."

"And?"

"And?!? Are you kidding me?!?" She ranted, frustration taking over her features. "I'm a newbie who writes indie/folksy pop but I'm legally obligated to sing twenty-five songs from three famous songwriters who probably write for Avery Wilshere, Britney, and Selena Gomez so the executives can decide which ones they want in the album. Honestly, which songs do you think they will choose?"

"Welcome to show business," he taunted.

"Gee, thanks! Great advice, Raleigh," she fumed, plastering a wicked smile on her face. "Now excuse me, I have to go home so I can spend the rest of night banging my head against the wall."

Tiffani put her guitar back on the case, but as she stood up, Raleigh held her wrist. She freed her wrist from his hold and began to walk towards the door.

"Wait!" He tried to reach for her hand or wrist again, but she was walking faster this time. Before she could storm out, he stepped in front of the door.

"Get out of the way, Raleigh!" She tried to push him away, but he barely moved.

"Can you just wait a second and listen to me?"

"What? Don't you have anyone else to mock besides me?" She growled.

"I do actually," he smirked.

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"I wasn't mocking you. I'm just trying to tell you the truth. I get it, you want to pursue your dream — that's what all of us want — but the music executives just want money. If you let them take charge, they'll make you sing whatever they think it'll be latest new hit and you're just going to be another sell-out artist who never will get to show your true self to the world."

"I hope you have a point because this is the worst pep talk I've ever heard and I don't see any advice or solution in it."

"You will if you let me finish," he cocked an eyebrow at her.

She pursed her lips but didn't protest. "Continue."

"You will have to give them what they want, but you still can get what you want if you play your cards right."

"And how am I going to do that?"

"Meet them halfway. Adapt your songs to the genre they want you to sing."

"Okay… I guess I can do that. But I can't feel a connection to the songs they want me to sing. How am I going to perform them successfully if I can't relate to any of them?"

"Hmm…" he scratched his stubble for a second. "Maybe you're too much in your head right now. You need a break. Let's go out."

"What?"

"You heard me. Let's go out. Now."

"I — Uh…"

"You're stressed out and you won't find a solution for your problem like this. I'm giving you an opportunity to chill. So unless you also signed a contract binding you from having fun, what do you have to lose?"

He's not wrong… "Okay, let's do it," she replied.

Watching a genuine smile soften his features for the first time, she let him guide her out of the record label building to his car.

He murmured something in Spanish to his driver, who smiled and nodded.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he winked.

Tiffani looked away, crossed her arms and legs unamused.

"I like how you're pulling off the diva attitude. The pouty lips are something else," he jested, breaking the silence in the car.

"You can't stop flirting with me, can you?"

"How presumptuous of you, Tiffani. What makes you think I am?"

"If you cared enough to pay attention to my lips and make a remark about them, you definitely are."

He didn't say anything, yet she noticed a corner of his mouth quirk up in the dark.

As the car rolled to a stop, he offered his hand to her. She took it and climbed out, walking right into a place in a dark alley called San Pedrito's.

He smiled at the bouncer, who let them in. Still holding her hand, they got in, he greeted several people and briefly introduced her to them before they walked upstairs to a private booth, from where the entire nightclub could be seen.

"Whoa…" she blurted.

"I know," he smiled to her. "Drinks?"

"Sure," she replied absentmindedly, mesmerized by the crowd dancing on the ground floor.

"Dos barcadí daiquiris, por favor," he said to a waiter, who nodded and walked away, arriving just a few minutes later with their cocktails.

She sighed contently sipping the refreshing sweetened lime juice mixed with rum.

"Good. You're getting it," Raleigh whispered in her ear.

"Huh?"

"The tempo of the song."

She suddenly was aware of her foot tapping on the floor, instinctively following the enticing beat. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"Exactly," he leaned against the railing with the glass of dairiqui in his hand. "Music is supposed to make you feel something. You listen to it and you feel the beat, sense the melody, it brings back memories, it gives you new emotions. You don't have to think about it. That's why you couldn't find a solution before."

"Oh…" she pondered. "I guess I didn't think about that."

"I understand. Teachers give all these tips and techniques on how to analyze a song, but they forget to tell us the whole theory won't mean anything if we don't feel it," he had one last sip of his cocktail, took her drink from her hand and placed on the table along with his own. "Alright, time to hit the dancefloor."

Her eyes widened and she froze, her hands clenching the railing. She may have some moves, but none of them includes Latin music steps.

"Come on. There isn't a better way to feel a song than dancing." He put his hand atop of hers.

She hesitated, chewing on a fingernail. "I don't know the steps."

He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Well, I do."

She smiled coyly and nodded to him.

Holding hands again, Raleigh and Tiffani descended the stairs, stepping right into the dancefloor where a song with salsa influenced melody started to play.

Raleigh pulled her close, one of his hands running down to the small of her back as he positioned one of his legs between hers.

A light shade of pink bloomed on her cheeks.

"Relax, Tiffani. Just follow my lead." He began to move his hips to the sides, guiding her to do the same.

She moved stiffly, intimidated by the closeness to his muscular body.

"I know you can do better than that," he uttered. "Come on, you know this song... Loosen up, mami. Feel the rhythm."

As the song switched to a captivating reggaeton beat, Tiffani put her hand on his shoulder, he clasped her other hand and they glided in circles across the dancefloor, swaying in a fluid, sensuous motion. Heat spread through her body while he sang the lyrics in her ear, his lips brushing on her neck, his warm breath eliciting goosebumps on her skin. She closed her eyes and lost herself in his arms as he guided her through the alluring rhythm.

When the song came to its end and their eyes met, his lips just a few inches away from hers, neither of them unwilling to let go of each other. But as the room was filled with applause, they were pulled out of the trance. They turned to the crowd smiling timidly and returned to his private booth.

She sat down on the couch whilst Raleigh went to the bar to fetch them more drinks before joining her on the couch.

"How do you feel about the album issue now?"

"Better. I mean, I probably won't get the chance to dance like that while I listen to them, but I get it now. Thanks." Small dimples formed on her cheeks as she blushed.

"You're welcome." He held her waist and pulled her close. "And who knows? Maybe I'll drop by at the studio sometime next week to help you again," he murmured, his face almost touching hers once again as his hands ran down her sides.

"I'd like that," she purred, her stomach fluttering as he gaped at her lips.

Unfortunately, she can't give herself the luxury to feed at the moment. Her new assistant hasn't left yet and Kamilah hasn't told her what she is and she doesn't plan on telling anything. Maisie is just an assistant. She knows what she has to know. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts her thoughts. "Come in," Kamilah orders.

"Excuse me, Ms. Sayeed," Maisie walks in with a folder and a small package. "Here are the documents sent to Japan Finance Corp, a copy of the files confirming the deal with Mansingh International and the package you've been waiting to arrive from Cairo."

Kamilah extends her hand to receive the papers while her assistant leaves the package on her desk and waits. She opens the folder, takes a look at the papers and nods. "Thank you, Maisie."

The girl nods but doesn't leave ad she watches her boss massaging her temples. "Is there anything else I can, Ms. Sayeed?"

"No, thank you. You can leave."

But she remains there. 

"Why are you still standing there, Maisie?"

The girl looks down, playing with the hem of her skirt. "If I may be so bold... I've seen you have those headaches more than three times just this week and I was wondering if you have any health conditions that require some sort of special assistance. I mean, if you need anything I could help you with, I'm here, ma'am."

Kamilah stares at her assistant surprised. Even though she knows the right thing to do is simply dismiss her, there's something completely disarming about Maisie’s dark doe eyes that the vampire can't fight against. "I'm just hungry, Maisie. I need to feed."

"Oh okay, I can call your favorite restaurant."

She presses her lips together. Human food certainly wasn’t what she had in mind, but it’ll give her some time until she can have access to her personal blood stock. "Call Marie from Délicieux Repas. She knows how I like my steak."

"Anything else?"

"Order something for you as well."

"Ms. Sayeed, a meal there costs $400 per person."

"And it's worth every penny. Put it on my tab."

"But —"

"Are you going to protest some more and make me starve?" Kamilah arched an eyebrow.

"Sorry, Ms. Sayeed. I'll make the call."

A while later, Maisie walks in with their orders and a bottle of Pinot Noir, leaving Kamilah's on the coffee table where the vampire usually has a glass of wine and snacks with Mr. Raines and his assistant or Mr. Matsuo and a friendly woman called Lily.

Kamilah takes a seat on the sofa, gestures for her assistant to join, opens the bottle, pours the wine into the glasses and offers one to Maisie, who looks at it reluctantly. "It's fine. I don't think you'll be less efficient in your job if you have one glass of wine after hours."

Maisie picks up the glass and sips the wine. "This is fantastic."

"Wait until you taste it with your risotto."

As they start digging into their meals, Kamilah steals a few glances at her assistant, who occasionally lets tiny moans escape her mouth while savoring the wine with the tuna risotto. "That good, huh?" The vampire smirks, cutting a piece of her medium-rare steak.

"It's like nothing I've ever tasted. I've never had sophisticated dishes and wines until now, I've never traveled abroad or done any fancy activities I imagine you must be used to."

"But are you happy with your life?"

"Yeah. I mean, I work for someone I admire because I believe you're someone who makes a difference in the world, I can pay my bills, I have my own place. I can't afford a designer's outfit to work and a four hundred dollars meal, but I have a good life."

"Then that's it. You're young, you still have to learn and experience new things, but soon you'll discover those pretty things are nothing but pretty, unless they mean something to you," Kamilah says, then looks at the package on her desk. She stands up, picks up an antique letter opener and fishes an ancient armband from the package.

"It's beautiful. It looks like it came out of an archaeological site in Egypt."

"It was. It's the last thing I could find that belonged to a relative of mine. That website where I bought was auctioning it was if it was a mere trinket," annoyance burned in her eyes.

"Oh..." Maisie blurts out. "I'm glad you could retrieve it. I think the auction website said it was found in a burial chamber next to one of the Giza pyramids."

"Yeah, he was royalty."

"Whoa... I didn't know you had royal ancestors. Do you ever think about returning to Egypt?"

"No. It was a long time ago, I have no living family members. There's no reason to go back."

Maisie sips the last of her wine in deep thought then says. "I guess it makes sense. If you have the life you want here and you've got everything you need, that's what matters."

A ghost of a smile plays on Kamilah's lips as she takes in her assistant carefully. "Precisely."

The young assistant picks up everything and stands up. "Thanks for the meal, Ms. Sayeed. I hope you're feeling well now that you had something to eat."

"Thank you for the company, Maisie," Kamilah nods.

"And may I add, you're even more interesting than I thought you were."

Kamilah's eyes shoot open, but the young girl simply smiles.

"My break is over, ma'am. Excuse me," Maisie says as she leaves the room.

He opened and closed the door cautiously and greeted Micah as he sat down. Tiffani, on the other hand, was still oblivious to his presence, completely focused on her song.

"Don't worry. She's not listening."

"How is she doing?"

Micah grimaced. "Hard to say. She changed the lyrics about three times in the past four hours. It wasn't easy, but I got her not to burn the drafts. She's currently spiraling about the harmony."

Raleigh scowled. "Selling her song to the record label wasn't a good call."

"Didn't she tell you? Ellis was pressing her to sell the rights of the song because she is taking too long to release her debut album. He threatened to break the contract," Micah explained.

"Why am I not surprised..." Raleigh's jaw clenched.

"Now she's going mad trying to write a song like the one sold. I try to help as much as I can, but I don't know... You're her boyfriend. Maybe you can talk to her."

"Is that why you called me? Dude, it's not for real. My relationship with her is just a publicity stunt."

"Is it though? I've seen you before with other fake girlfriends. You definitely don't act the same way you did with them. You look more... at ease when Tiff is around. You both have a connection, you seem like you care about her and she really could use a little help."

They looked at the singing booth and she is nowhere to be seen. They stood up and caught the sight of her sitting on the floor with both hands on each side of her head, looking down at the sheet.

"I don't know..." Raleigh rubbed the back of his neck. "Did you try Avery or her friend, Shane?"

"They're both busy. Come on, man. You can do it. I'll give both some privacy if you want," Micah suggested.

"Alright, maybe I can--"

"Great! Thank you!" Micah grinned, pressed a button and turned on the microphone to talk to Tiffani. "Tiff!"

"Yeah?" She stood up quickly.

"Look who decided to pay you a visit!" Micah clapped Raleigh's shoulder, who quickly put his best stoic face.

"Oh..." Tiffani blushed, then smiled. "Hi, Raleigh!"

Raleigh waved to her, giving her his trademark smirk.

"I'm a bit hungry and I'm gonna take a break. You guys feel free to chat and go out, okay?" Micah said.

"Okay," she grinned, watching Micah turn away and took a seat on the loveseat into the vocal booth with the sheet in her hands.

Raleigh cocked an eyebrow and turned the microphone on again. "Tiffani?"

"Yes?"

"You're off the hook for at least one hour. What are you still doing in there?"

"Working on the song."

"You can do that later. Let's get out of here. We can grab a bite to eat, take a stroll in a park or something."

"No, thanks. I still haven't finished the song."

"Come on, Tiffani. You can't stay in there forever. You need to rest at some point. Take a break. Live a little."

"I appreciate the concern, Raleigh, but I have a deadline. I'll rest when I'm done with this."

He shook his head. He has been around her enough to know she's driven and no one could take her mind off of what she wanted. Well, if you can't beat them... "Do you mind if I join you in there?"

"Not at all. Come in."

Raleigh opened the door to the vocal booth and sat next to her. "What are you working on?"

"A power ballad. There's something missing on it, though. I can't finish it, I've got no hook. Nothing. Just some verses and maybe a bridge," she frowned.

"Can you show me what you've got so far?"

She reached for the guitar next to her and began to play a soulful melody. Her fingers strummed slowly on the strings as she sang, yet she seemed uneasy, her velvety voice was tremulous and wistful. He could feel goosebumps forming on his skin as she sang. After a couple of verses, she stopped. "That's all I've got."

Raleigh stood silent for a while, brows knitted together in deep thought.

Unsure of what to do, she broke the silence. "So... Is this very long pause a good or a bad sign? Because I don't know what to do here and I really need to finish this album."

He turned to her, looking into her eyes. "What you have there is incredible. You're clearly onto something."

"But I need to make it at least a three to four minutes song. I can't add more interludes to the album."

"Okay, let's go back to the basics. The song key is G major, so you can build the harmony and the melody using G major scale. How about this?" he picked up an acoustic guitar from the wall and began to play, humming a little to find the right chords.

Tiffani played along, stopping occasionally to write down on the sheet. A while later, they had the harmony and melody of the song ready.

"You can change something later, see what fits better, depending on how you'll continue the lyrics."

"I don't know if I should continue these lyrics."

"Why not?"

Tiffani pressed her lips together and looked away.

"It's about the song you sold, isn't it?"

Her eyes widened.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to betray my fake girlfriend's trust telling anyone about this," he smirked.

A hint of a weak smile played on her lips, but she still avoided to look at him.

Raleigh tilted her chin up with one hand so he could stare into her eyes. "I meant it when I said you're onto something here. This song can be great if you channel the right emotions into it. What are you feeling right now?"

"Hurt," she uttered.

"What else?"

Her eyes glistened. "Resentment."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Regret," her bottom lip quivered.

He locked his arms around her as she cried against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and waited until she was calmer.

Tiffani craned her neck and kissed his cheek. "Thanks."

"Nuh-uh," he cupped her face, gently brushing his thumbs on her cheekbones. "You can thank me after you write that song and hit the top of the charts with it."

By the end of the day, Tiffani had finished writing the song and recorded the vocals, piano and guitar parts of her newest song with Raleigh's and Micah's help. She got out of the studio holding hands with Raleigh and posed for the cameras before they climbed into the car.

"How are you feeling now?" Raleigh asked.

"Relieved," she sighed. "I know you said I shouldn't thank you yet, I want to. It was eating me up and you helped to get it off my chest. I can't thank you enough," she placed her hand on top of his.

"No worries. But you have to do one thing for me in return."

"What is it?"

He turned to her, lacing his fingers with hers. "Don't resent yourself for this anymore. You did what you had to do to keep the record deal. You just finished recording and your album will be launched soon. Let it go."

"It won't be that easy."

"I never said it will be easy. But you can channel that anger every time you perform the song."

She nodded. "I knew I have a lot to learn about the music industry, but I didn't think I'd have to deal with all of this."

"No one ever does. But that's how things work in this world. You either learn how to play the game or they'll eat you up alive."

"That's... harsh."

"Thank you. I’m glad you're not going a bridezilla on us, trying to make us wear ugly dresses for you to stand out." Samantha sighed relieved.

"She did have her bridezilla moment during her exclusive bridal fashion week, but everyone survived," Juliet recalled with a smirk. 

They giggled.

"Jade, did you always want to get married? I mean, even before you met Liam," Luisa asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. I think always did."

"I think all of us muses about it eventually. Even if it was just to mentally hate the social institution of marriage," Hana affirmed.

"Here's a question: why is there so much pressure for women to get married while men don't need to worry about that? I mean, we're encouraged to pursue marriage since we were children, everyone tells us to have children way before we knew to write our own names. We have to be quiet, we can’t curse, we have to play hard to get, fight against each other to attract men’s attention. I don’t get it,” Carla furrowed her brows as she questioned it.

"I know, right? Liam and his brother were pushed to get married as crown princes, but Leo dragged out his engagement for years and even got the chance to walk out of it. I highly doubt anyone would allow that happen if he was a girl," Daphne commented.

"I'm the first one to say I hate Madeleine but do you guys know how many times her name was dragged in the mud because she had two failed engagements?" Jade pointed out.

"Oh, I know how it feels," Hana confessed. "I was constantly reminded of being a failure for not marrying two guys I didn't even feel attracted to." 

"Princess Marguerite was forced to marry that creepy guy just because he's rich and she's not even straight," Rebecca explained. "If my crew didn't ruin the wedding, she'd be suffering in silence."

"Don't we all, in a way?" Luisa shrugged, running her fingers on the rim of her champagne glass. "We're judged for the clothes we wear, the things we say, the places we go to and it's definitely not in the same way guys are judged."

"No cisgender guy ever feared for his life because of the clothes he's wearing," Carla stated.

"No one tells cisgender guys what to do with their own bodies," Daphne said.

"I bet getting an abortion would be as safe as going to the dentist if cisgender guys could give birth," Natasha implied.

"If they could give birth, they wouldn't be afraid of losing their jobs for being pregnant," Juliet continued.

"No one would call them selfish for not wanting kids," Samantha pursed her lips.

"Girl, they already aren't," Rebecca corrected.

"And you know what sucks about all of this? If we say this, we're not going to be heard. We're just crazy bitches with penis envy complexity. We can vote, we can work, we can study. What else could we want? Respect? Dignity? Not fearing for our lives when we leave alone? They make us look like we're shooting for the stars," Jade ranted.

"Sweetie, you do realize you're the only of us who is a politician and can make real changes, right?" Natasha squeezed Jade’s hand.

"Well, that's the thing, Nat. Because I'm a woman, my opinions are overlooked in the duchies meeting with the king. Most of the dukes roll eyes when Liam and Bertrand agree with me and I'm not the only one. Can you imagine how awful it was for Olivia when she was the only duchess in the kingdom?" 

"Doesn't Madeleine's mom count?" Hana asked sipping her drink.

"She never attends the meetings because she says and I quote 'I can't stand any of l these social gatherings without alcohol'. I can't say I blame her though," Jade sighed.

"I believe you," Rebecca replied, resting her chin on her hands.

"Ugh... What an awful world," Luisa shouted in frustration. 

"But we can still do something. We are citizens, voters, workers. We all can fight against it, can't we?" Carla asked.

"Yes, I know it feels like an endless war, but we have to stick together, fight for each other. Generations of women before us suffered so we could be here right now, choosing our own paths and still fighting for our rights to have a better life," Jade clarified.

All the woman nodded.

"Let's toast. To the women who fought before us." Samantha raised her glass.

"To the women who will continue the fight in the future," Daphne added.