A/N: Hello to everyone.
So after making my account in here I finally had the guts to go and publish a story.
Hope you guys enjoy it. And just so you know English is not my native language so I apologize for any mistakes or typos you find here.
Also just so there are no misunderstandings I wanna go ahead and explain a little thing (before I'm bashed over the head with it like my beta reader did). I'm using a little something here that many of you may or may not have read before, BUT I want to say on my defense that it only serves a base-side-totally-irrelevant thing and not really a main factor for this story.
Also I wanted to do a tribute and reference to the author theSilence for the story 'Baking my way into your heart' which i think is both hilarious and fantastic (which by the way I'm sure many readers like me are waiting for the final chapter XD).
Having said that lets roll.
Have fun. :)
Summary
Derek Hale possesses the three wishes of men: fame, power and fortune. He's a successful man of business and heir to one of the most prestigious families of high society; however, his one and only wish is to have someone who loves him for who he really is, and he's willing to give up everything he has to make it happen. Stiles is a college student who, despite high grades and scholarships, struggles to keep up with his tuition. His dream is to gain his degree and become a famous writer, and he will do anything to make it happen... even if it means transforming into 'Spark', the most popular stripper of the Wolf Pack Night Club. Destiny has deemed to intertwine their paths.
Chapter 1. - Good morning
The moment is quiet and peaceful as the wind blows calmly through the morning blue sky, and the first rays of sunlight break the perpetual remnants of darkness allowing the birds to sing their usual lullaby. A fresh feeling combines with the gentle breeze as it squirms through every window, causing every drape to lightly flap announcing the beginning of the day. The first signs of life allow the people to wake up and begin their usual routines.
Derek Hale is one of those.
His green pale eyes open to the insistent chipping of the birds, not that he hates it but is not particularly charming this morning. He lets out a resounding groan and he pushes his silk sheets away, revealing strong ripped muscles bathing in the first rays of light that come in through the mid open drapes of his balcony door. He slides his legs to the side of the bed to sit up, resting his elbows on his knees and then burying his face on both hands sighing with frustration. He hates Monday mornings.
Despite personal feelings Derek is a man of responsibilities and forces himself up from bed, mumbling in displeasure of the act and walking towards his balcony door. After opening the door and stepping outside his body makes a quick shiver after colliding with the morning breeze, his eyes blinded by the rising sun and his body lightly shining in the light revealing every last line that conforms his well-developed muscles. He overcomes the dazzle of the sun and glances down at the immense forest that resides just behind his family's mansion. He loves it.
The raven haired man has a love for natural environments because he feels the freedom that emanates from them, and sometimes he finds himself wishing for that same freedom and peace. To feel that peace and freedom he closes his eyes and inhales, filling his lungs with the fresh clean air coming from said forest. His ears quickly deafen to any sound, and his body completely relaxes letting himself get lost in the harmony of the moment. The sound of his cell phone quickly crashes his moment back to reality.
Snarling for the interruption his muscles tense in annoyance as he walked to the nightstand beside the bed, picking the damn machine to check the screen. He huffs as he reads the contact name in the flickering screen, Laura, stupid timing she always had. He first thinks of letting this one pass, smirking as he thinks of his sister waiting for him to answer, but his smile quickly vanishes as he remembers that his sister is more fucking stubborn than the flu.
"What!?" he growls at the phone, frowning like only he knows.
"As charming as ever right little bro?" she sounds cheerful. Derek frowns yet again almost feeling that cynical smile of her.
"I just got up." He spat harshly, not really in the mood to take in her sister's unique sense of humor.
"Well Der Der, you're a man of responsibilities so I understand," he could practically feel her smirk which caused Derek to glare at the void of his room.
"I know," he snorted, "Laura get to the point," and Derek started to walk to the wardrobe door, pulling out a set of clothes for the day not really bothering to look what he picked.
"Someone is a bit cranky today." She is not helping. It's so like her to push his buttons when he less needs it.
"It's six in the morning Laura," his voice started to rise, "And it's fucking Monday." Is no surprise to the raven haired man that from all the people in the world it's precisely his sister the only one 'smart' enough to bother him on this day.
"Ok, ok, I get it, sheesh" she sighed, "Listen, I need a favor-"
"No," he quickly interrupts leaving his clothes on the bed and returning to the nightstand to pick his office cell phone, checking for any notifications for today's agenda.
"Come on Derek, I haven't even said anything yet," she starts to whine. Not that the man gives a damn anyway, he knows better than whenever a conversation with Laura starts to shift like this then is better to back off.
"That's why I said no," he starts walking to his bathroom. Not really interested in getting drag down to one more of his sister's 'favors'.
"Come Der Der just hear me out," her tone becomes more imploring and Derek tries, really really tries, to make Laura feel the hard scowl in his face just like she manages to make him feel that annoying smile of hers.
"I said no," he snarled again while turning on the shower, he knew he was reaching the very peak of his patience, especially after slamming the bathroom's door.
"But I really need your help Der Der," she starts to mellow her voice. Derek hates that, he really really hates that, because despite everything he still has a soft spot... unfortunately her sister knows how to get to him.
"Laura-," he makes a pause to sigh. Sometimes he can really be a pushover when it comes to the people he loves, even the ones he loves against his will.
The man knows better than to give up to whatever her sister asks of him, and each and every time she somehow manages to get to him which always ends in regret. It's not the first, and certainly not the last time, that Laura always gets to convince him into something he really doesn't want to do. So much for the public figure that Derek Hale is when it comes to business, and good thing he's careful with his private life because paparazzis would just go crazy if they ever saw him being pushed around by his sister.
"Der Der?" her tone becomes mellower and he can practically picture that stupid begging face she does every time she needs him to do something for her.
"Oh for the love of god." he grumbles while rubbing his nose bridge. He knows he just can't take it anymore. God damn the moment his parents decided to have Laura before him.
"Pretty please Der Der?" and that's the last before he finally gives in with the defeated look on his face, which he's grateful that no one is there to see it.
"Fine!" he sighs while stripping off his pajama bottoms, "What is it?"
"It's easy Der Der," Derek immediately regrets agreeing because it's never easy, "I just need you to pick up Uncle Peter from the airport."
"Oh god," he sighs in frustration once again.
He frowns as he quickly realizes what he just agreed to, not that he hates his uncle or anything. One of Derek's most important values is family, and he would do anything and everything for each and every one them, even for his creepy uncle Peter. But having said that he also can't deny that Peter has a knack for doing the most unusual things ever, and each and every time he gets involved in one of his uncle's whims it always turns into a fucking mess. Sometimes he can't help but to wonder how in the hell did he end up being part of this family.
"Don't worry you just need to pick him up and drive him back to the house," her tone became cheerful again.
"Are you sure that's all?" he says annoyed because knowing Laura as he does, there is always a catch in everything she involves him with.
"I promise," she quickly answered. She is not telling him something and that's what makes Derek's alarms go nuts, telling him he's just in for another of her endless shit storms.
"Let me guess," he says in a sarcastic tone, "You promise to pick him up and now you can't right?" Derek sighs because he already knows the answer.
"Sorry little bro," she sounds like she's sorry, "It's just that something really important showed up and I have to get it done," but clearly she isn't.
Derek lets out a sigh. "Fine."
Although Laura Hale always manages to fulfill her promises, Derek also knows that her sister usually tends to drift from her word for stupid reasons. Hence why most of the times he ends up doing things for her, and sometimes he hates himself for being so soft to her. He is known in his family for being the tough guy, the badass as Cora says sometimes, a man worth of trust according to his father, but also kind hearted as his mother would always say. Sometimes he hated being the only male sibling.
"Well I gotta go Der Der," she interrupted his line of thought, "I'll text you the details later, see ya," her raised tone buzzing in his ear, "And thanks again little bro," and the line dies making him snort.
Another frustrated sigh leaves his mouth before entering the shower, he already feels a headache coming his way and is all thanks to his fucking self. Each and every time he lets Laura convince him to do something for her it's usually bad news for him, and now that it involves his uncle Peter he knows he is going to regret it even more.
Derek finally decides to not dwell on the thought anymore and focuses on the routine ahead of him, allowing the cold water of the shower to drown his thoughts away and leave him with a cold shiver running down his spine. He comes out of the shower dripping a few drops with a white towel around his waist; he stops before his bed glancing at the clothes lying in it. A gray suit set with black shirt, gray tie, and black shoes. His favorite attire. Weird how just a few minutes ago he wasn't even paying attention to what clothes he pulled out of his wardrobe, yet it seemed like his instinct had kicked right in.
Quickly pulling on every piece of cloth he hurried downstairs to have breakfast, the expensive shoes' soles were echoing in the big receiving hall as he went down the big carpeted stairway and turning to his right once he reached the floor heading straight for the kitchen in hopes of eating at the very least a yogurt before heading for work. His steps came to a halt right at the kitchen's entrance after spotting a long haired brunette teenage girl leaning on the kitchen counter; she was munching a tuna salad sandwich while drinking a glass of apple juice.
"Now this is a surprise," said the girl without even looking at him with a smug tone like only she knew how to use. Both elbows on the counter, sandwich on her right and apple juice in her left.
"Not in the mood Cora." He said while walking pass her right to the fridge. After putting up with Laura he knew his patience for the rest of the day was hanging in a very thin thread, and he was not about to lose it to Cora.
"No surprise there," she said again while sipping her juice. Looking at her brother from the corner of her right eye as he passed her by.
"I could really use some peace and quiet, you know?" he was leaning to rummage the back part of the fridge. He already knew there was no point in asking for some peace from her little sister.
"And I could use your Camaro," she replied to which Derek immediately glared back at her, "But the world is not perfect, right big bro?" she returned to munch on her breakfast closing her eyes in a dignified way.
"I guess not," he decided against fighting back and returned to search something to eat. The girl sharpened her eyes on the man, almost surprised that he didn't fight back. Actually Derek thought that if he kept his mouth shut Cora would feel compelled to do the same.
He was wrong.
"So, big bro," she began eyeing the man's back giggling and fidgeting while twisting her fingers around and Derek, who was looking at her from over his shoulder, felt his alarms turning on again, "I was wondering-"
"No," he abruptly interrupted looking back into the fridge. Cora just gaped.
Derek had live with her for a long time enough to know what was going on inside of her snarky little mind, because since she got her license all she ever talked about was how amazing would be if he let her ride the Camaro down the road. He of course would refuse at every word she tried to spat out at him.
"I didn't even say anything," she sounded offended. Derek knew both of his sisters very well, and he could already know where this was going... as usual.
"Still no," he said pulling out the carton of milk turning around to see her, "Besides, you're way too predictable so it wasn't that hard to guess." he said with a smirk on his face and about to drink from the carton.
"Mother will kill you if she finds out you drank from the carton," smiling she used a tone of amusement and, obviously, threatening him making Derek froze in place, quickly thinking of a comeback.
"Father will kill you if he found out you tried to take my Camaro," he smiled in triumph when her smirk faltered by mere seconds.
"Father will kill you first when he knows that you caused me to get late to one of my midterms." Now Derek was the one who faltered. His father was especially touchy when it came to school grades, and even more special about Cora's.
"What happen to Isaac's car?" he immediately mentally slapped himself and huffed when he saw Cora smiling at him. He had lost the game.
"Busted" was her only answer rolling her eyes and shrugging as if that was enough explanation. Derek raised a brow.
"Elaborate please." He crossed his arms over his chest, an expectant expression on his face, awaiting the story Cora would come up with to try and soothe him into giving up the Camaro.
"Well something went wrong with the engine," Derek only cocked his brows, his thought being 'Seriously? That's best you could come up with?' which didn't went unnoticed by the girl, "You know I don't know jack shit about cars!" She said in desperation.
"And when did it happen?" his face didn't show it but he was giving in, and he once again mentally slapped himself for that.
"It was like half an hour ago," she motioned towards the door that lead to the huge garage of the Hale Manor, "Isaac is already looking into it," Cora paused a moment and Derek turned his eyes back from door to look at her, "But it could probably take a while." Her face showed a bit of distress.
"What did Boyd say about it?" after realizing the question he just let passed his lips he immediately started to rub his bridge with his free hand. Cora had finally got him.
"He said that if he could take it to the workshop he could give it a more thorough check out and see what happened." Her tone still remained calm, but Derek was willing to bet his precious Camaro that Cora was madly grinning in the inside.
"What time is your test?" he said sighing leaving the milk carton in the counter. No stopping the bridge rubbing.
"At nine o'clock," she said in a disturbing quirky tone. The smile in Cora made Derek realize that she already knew she had won.
"Oh my god," his words came in a petty moan and he saw her sister spinning from left to right in her spot, smiling at him, with her bright eyes wide open.
"I promise I'll be very very careful." She immediately said putting her hands together, "Pretty please big bro?"
He really was a pushover when it came down to family, and even more when it was about his sisters. Not that Derek would ever admit it out loud to Cora or Laura, because if he did his life would be and even worse hell. He knew that, taking these two sisters he had, it could easily be possible. So after finally accepting that he had to give in, Derek slowly pulled out his car keys from his left pocket holding them by them by the small wolf key chain he got from his father. Cora's smile widened when the keys were just in front of her, jingling and reflecting the lights of the morning sun coming through the kitchen's window. As she raised her fingers to catch the cold metal things Derek somehow felt his heart thaw by the girl's happy smile, he really was a pushover for his family. Suddenly a door slammed open, freezing both brothers and making them turn around. A curly haired blonde boy stepped through with a huge grin of victory, a grin that came when one was able to overcome a hardship. The boy looked at the brothers, Derek's face showing surprise and Cora's eyes slowly shifted into horror.
"Hey Cora!" he cheerfully said not really noticing how the girl was slightly shaking her head or how her eyes seemed horrified pleading him to shut up, "Boyd and I finally got it! Erica helped too!" again the girl tried to warn him this time shaking her head a little bit more roughly than before silently imploring him to shut the fuck up; however, Isaac proved to be even more clueless than what general opinion stated, "The car works! Now you can make it to your test in time!" he finished with his characteristic grin.
"Oh my god!" she finally groaned- actually more like yelled hiding her face behind her hands. He knew the boy could be totally oblivious at times but not like this and most certainly not at that very moment.
"What's wrong?" Isaac asked genuinely lost while Cora angrily glared at him and the kid felt lost, "What did I miss?", glancing back at the raven haired man he saw a smirk widening across his face.
"Oh for fuck sake!", Cora finally snapped, "Can't you have any worse timing?", Isaac slightly shivered at her scream more because of the buzzing her voice caused that the anger she was emanating. So he glanced back at Derek, finally catching up when he saw the older man's grin.
"Oh" being that the only word to come out of his mouth Cora started to fume while Derek only grinned more and more, "Wait!" he said suddenly said getting both brother's attention and pointed at the older one, "You were actually going to let her have the Camaro?!" the surprised look was printed all over his face.
"I was this close no thanks to you Lahey!" She shouted in his face closing her index and thumb in his face.
"Oh boy," he nervously said scratching the back of his head, giggling to hide his fear of the girl's mood.
"Isaac," Derek's voice made booth teens turn their faces to him, "You just made my day." He said with a grin.
"Fine!" snapped Cora again, "You win this time big bro," she turned to the garage door, "I had enough for today!" And she went stomping away.
"Crap," the kid's curse made Derek turn to him with a less marked grin and the boy was still scratching his head heavily sweating, "I really am fucked up am I?" He turned to see the older man to which the Hale man nodded.
"Get your sorry ass over here Isaac!" Cora's scream came over from the back of the garage. Her tone still was angered, and Derek could've swore that some of the windows' glasses had just rumbled. Isaac still was in his place doing the scratch
"I'm so fucking dead." He moaned burying his face in his hands. Derek only patted his back his back in consolation.
"Tell you what," the man's voice made the kid turn his big puppy eyes to him, "If you're still alive after evening I promise I'll take you out for a good burger," he half hugged him with one arm around the kid's shoulders, "What do you say to that?"
"Really?" Isaac's face was beaming, "How about those double meat and grilled cheese burgers?" He said and almost letting out a happy shriek when he saw Derek nodding.
"Isaac Lahey! Get a move on! We're all waiting!" Both men winced feeling as if drill had just been shoved through their ears. Derek couldn't help to wonder if Boyd and Erica were deaf now being in the same car as his sister.
"As I said," he paused looking from the garage door to the teen, "If you're still alive."
Derek watched as the teen walked through the door (and possibly to his imminent death) with a mix of happiness for the promise of his favorite burger and also shivering from the still resounding screams of Cora. Shaking his head while smiling the raven haired man walked over one of the kitchen's cupboards and pulled out a glass to pour some milk in it, drank half of the glass and poured some more milk in before returning the carton to the fridge to walk back into the receiving hall. He stopped right before the nightstand next to the kitchen's door frame studying the pictures hanging from the walls, pictures of several moments of his family and friends, until he stopped at the last one where everybody, family and friends including a creepy uncle, were staring with a big smile. Everybody together, just the way Derek loved it.
Despite the fortune and prestige that the Hale family had acquired since long time ago they had always managed to keep themselves as a very simple family who longed for nothing but the simplest of things, a simple family that only looks out for each other and care about nothing but true happiness. That's what Derek loved the most of his life; the fact that here, in his home, with his family and friends, he could feel free of the outside world and the heavy burden that his family's name used to impose on every member. The fact that he constantly had to put on this mask called Derek Hale whenever he was facing the world, a mask he had grown to hate but still cling to a the very same time for his own reasons, usually took the toll on him every night as he needed to drift into sleep. Because despite how much he would really love to toss that mas aside he knows he just can't… at the very least not without paying the consequences.
Like he once did.
Shaking his head when he realized that he was looking at a white stained glass bottom he grabbed his keys, left the glass in the nightstand and started walking towards the door. Once outside he slipped on his sun glasses as he kept walking to his black Camaro shining brightly under the morning sun, feeling his chest swelling with the usual peace that a good ride in his trusty Camaro gave him. So quickly stepping into the driver seat and buckling up he started the engine, a roar filled the morning silencing the chipping in the woods around and, with a low screech from the tires in the entrance pavement, the car took off into the road ahead.
Mondays were still a bitch, but he still had to be Derek Hale.
He hated it.
The alarm clock had been drilling his ears for some time now and he swore that his damn radio clock tended to be even more relentless than usual only on Monday mornings, which is why with an annoyed frown on his usual smiley features he grabbed the clock, pulling with enough strength to make sure the power cord came out from its socket, to throw it away as far as possible.
As soon as the machine had left his hand he immediately dropped dead on his pillow again, maybe hearing wood from his bureau cracking and several of his picture frames rattling at the sudden movement but he just couldn't get himself to care. Funny thing is that, despite everything he did just to get a little more shuteye, the moment he opened his eyes to the alarm he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again so, after a few seconds of recounting his reasons for hating his life in the morning, he made a loud groan as he lifted his body from the bed, sliding his legs out to sit in the side of the mattress. He allowed himself to dwell for a few more seconds burrowing his face into his hands, groaning once again before standing up to make his way into the bathroom. He started by opening the faucet and let the water run for a minute while watching at the crystal liquid pouring down the drain, he always felt a sense of peace and calmness whenever he saw running water, and once he thought the water was not so freezing he put his hands together to gather some water splashing over his face in one swift movement. His body lightly shivered when the 'supposedly-not-so-goddamn-cold' water made contact and several drops trailed across his face, dripping down his bare slim chest when they reached the edge of his jaw line, disappearing under the waistband of his red sweatpants. Opening his eyes he took a moment to stare at his reflection in the mirror.
Stiles was not a person who cared a lot for is personal appearance, or at the very least not that much, because he had always been a person who cared more for the inside in heart and mind. Whenever he found someone interesting it was because, due to his observation skills, he used to find interesting little details in someone that allowed him to make quite accurate guesses of what that person was like in the inside (quality that was second only to Lydia's in his own words). He had always hated shallow people, which is why he pretty much hated his entire life during high school, because he hated how many people rejected one another just because they wore the wrong shirt, or were standing in the wrong position, or any other stupid reason those superficial jerks had for shunning others, just because they were out of their status quo. He had suffered his big share of that, not that he was complaining because that actually brought to him the true friends he had always wished for, but the path to that point had been painfully unbearable; the pain of believing yourself to be disgusting, the pain of feeling unwanted and unloved, the pain of finding yourself alone every single night, the pain of standing in the middle of a crowded place and still feel like you're alone in a giant void, the pain of crying several nights because nobody wanted to look your way… he really had suffer.
Why was he thinking about these things now?
Because life is cruel and likes to twist things over.
The moment the scrawny young man saw his reflection in the mirror the first thing his eyes had notice was a little red dot sprouting right in the left corner of his jaw, 'A pimple,' his mind had instantly said. Probably many could say that having pimples was completely normal, others could also add that many people worried at pimples and there was nothing be ashamed about, or maybe a few could say that it was nothing to even bother over. Truth be told Stiles was worried, but most of all angry… really angry. Was a stupid and measly little pimple really worth such anger? It was not the pimple itself but the implications behind Stiles noticing it.
For starters, and the principal reason in Stiles' opinion, was the fact that he had started to turn into one of those shallow people who worried about nothing but physical appearance; he knows better than that, that is not that there's anything wrong with worrying to look good, even if it's only for self-comfort, but Stiles had always believed that the moment he allowed those thoughts to root in his mind he would slowly begin to turn into something he didn't want to be, something he had hated since long… and he was right. The second reason, having drastic repercussions to his current life, was the fact that a pimple could easily damage his job. 'Yeah sure, "job",' he said making a sarcastic snort.
Not wishing to think any more about the matter he quickly stripped off his sweatpants revealing he was going commando, and turned on the shower stepping inside at the same time. His body made violent shivers as soon as it came in contact with the cold rain, freezing water drops sending small quivers as they trailed their way down through his slim frame from the top of his head, down across his back and chest, sliding in his hips, slipping in between his legs, and finally hitting the tiled floor by dripping off from his heels. He started to wash his body with one of those fancy white soaps to clean and moisturize the skin, fact that his mind processed making him angry yet again. 'I don't want… to be… like that,' his mind slowly phrasing the words at the same time that he scrubbed himself with more strength than necessary. Being bent down while also scrubbing off his ankles his eyes remained locked looking at the soap's foam swirling around the drain to finally disappear from sight, he remained there for a few seconds sighing with a sad look on his face.
'I'm losing my self', his thoughts resounded in his ears like if he had spoken… with his voice about to break, 'Every day more and more,' and with that last thought and the last of the foam banishing away down the plughole he let out a sigh making him feel all defeated.
After a tortuous shower Stiles was stepping back into his room with nothing but a short towel around his slim waist, his body shining with the morning lights thanks to the several water trails circling his lean muscles and the drops dripping from the damped hair. As he traced back and forth through the room taking off the towel and brushing away with it any remaining dampness from his body he first went to the bureau to pull out a pair of red brief boxers from the upper drawer, slipping them on right away and then to headed for the wardrobe stopping before the big mirror hanging from one of the doors. He stared at his own reflection once more for the day, he fought against making a disapproving frown because every time he saw himself in a mirror he could swear that, with every passing day of his life, he was becoming less and less himself, and that truth (because he knew very well he couldn't lie to himself) was unstoppable. Shaking his head and opening the closet's door with more strength than what he intended to use, he quickly grabbed the very first acceptable combination of clothes he saw and went back to the bed.
'Fuck,' he huffed in frustration, 'Even with the clothes now? Seriously Stilinski?!''
Once dressed he went to the kitchen and opened the fridge to measure the amount of supplies left, eyes darting from one side to the other, and as soon as he made a decision his hands quickly grabbed everything he needed stepping away to close the door with his left foot. Cooking was something he enjoyed on every day (even on fucking-god-forsaken Mondays) because it was one of the very little few things that reminded him of the happy days; because cooking always made him feel more at peace and served as a reminder of a unique ability that many guys his age lacked; because cooking made him remember his dad who he always used to pester about eating healthy food and it always made him smile the way his old man would growl at the non-greasy food but would still chow down the meal his only son would make for him; because cooking was something he had learn from his dear and beloved mother when she was alive.
As his breakfast was ready the teen took seat on the little table in the kitchen and quickly ate away everything, not that he was particularly hungry but he really didn't wish to dwell anymore in his apartment that was starting to feel way too stuffy. So quickly going to the small couch in the living room, or rather the half of the room that was the living room (the other half being the kitchen and the table), he grabbed his backpack heading now for the nightstand next to the exit door where he grabbed his keys, and unlocking the door he stepped out slamming the door behind him.
He was definitely angry today.
He quickly ran for the elevator and punched the lobby button, smirking at the fact that he had the elevator for himself that morning. Once out he hurried to the exit and quickly turned right heading down the sidewalk, he made a quick glance to his wristwatch to check the hour, '7:45 am', it was not so late but still he wasn't sure if there was enough time to make it in time for his first class. His studies were one of the few things he never thought lightly about, actually if he gave it a much more deep thought it was the very reason why his life was like this. Stiles wasn't about to complain to that because he had determination, he had made his decision long ago, also he had a dream and a promise.
Leaping out of his thoughts the young man quickly made it to the corner jumping inside the already fleeing bus who was already spinning the tires at the traffic's green light, he paid the fare and took a seat in the back part of the bus sitting down while trying to breath normally again. As the buildings and the passing people became a blurry stain outside the window he reached his pocket to pull out his phone, making a few slides with his finger only to watch a picture popping out in the screen. The image of a woman came into view. She was brandishing a warm smile, dressed with a plain white dress and sandals, lips naturally pink and soft, big brown eyes brimming with a beautiful glint, and pale skin soft as silk. Stiles smiled at the image after checking her features yet again.
'Hey mom,' he heard his own voice echoing in his head by only saying that one word.
'I haven't given up yet,' he shrugged and smiled more, 'Dad always said that I got that from you, so he wasn't surprised when I told him about going to college since even before I was even starting high school,' he snorted at the memory.
'He said I would be a total mess if I did ever get to live on my own,' his smile turned now into a more gentle one, 'I managed to ease off the worry from him with the promise of getting a scholarship and all but…,' his features contorted into sadness when his thoughts made a pause.
'I'm sorry,' he shut eyes as if he could see a hurt look on his mother's face, 'I know is not the best way to solve things but...'
The bus sudden stop made him aware that he had already reached his campus, so turning off the screen and apologizing to his mother one more time Stiles headed for his first class. Making a run for the first door and dashing through the halls to make it in time.
He was not going to complain even if he could (or even if he had good reasons to do it), but mostly he knew that he shouldn't because it was him who caused the mess his life was in the first place. So yeah, no complaining. Especially not when after the first two classes in the morning he had to attend his job at the Wolf's Bane Coffee Loft, which used to be crowded with students from noon until four in the afternoon. Then he had to attend yet two more and classes and that would be the end of his Monday. Luckily for him today was his only free day from his other "job" and he was grateful for that, not that it was any comforting but he really needed the extra hours of sleep or maybe use those hours to catch up with his homework.
He sat down on his usual spot as English Literature class began.
A white cavalier smoothly parked into the free spot the driver had found as soon as he entered the parking lot, it was the closest one to the building that all of the passengers need to get into in order to go to their respective classrooms (actually it was more to get the hell away from one of the current passengers in the back seat). Before the car even made a complete stop the passenger seat door was already being open and exited by a blonde girl with curly locks cascading the sides of her face and over the collar of her purple colored jacket; she was wearing a black short tight skirt and blouse (which gave a good view of her cleavage) with high heel purple boots to match a heavy black and purple makeup and big eyes that glimmered with mischief; a black satchel hanging from her left shoulder carrying some notebooks; and using headphones with music blasting out loud from them, her face made an annoyed expression as she began to walk away not able to handle any more of the ranting going on inside the car. She had walked away as fast as she could, getting out of the parking lot, following the sidewalk and finally climbing up the few step stones to enter the building, but just as she was about to enter a strong hand holding her shoulder made her turn around to look at the man who had catch up with her.
Erica let out a puff with frustration. "No Boyd I told you already." she said shaking off the guy's hand, "I had enough of Cora's bitching for the rest of the week and it's just Monday."
"Come on to be so grumpy", he spoke in a soft and calm tone, "Besides, you're the one who said that Isaac would screw everything."
"Well he's as devious as a baked potato," she said not missing the way Boyd tried to hold back a smile, "But still this is Cora we're talking about. Why couldn't he just keep his fucking trap shut?"
"Well…," he paused looking behind them and Erica also followed his gaze.
Back in the cavalier the last two teenagers were having a heated argue (more like Cora was just shouting at the curly haired blonde) about what happened back at the Hale Manor, actually it was more or less of the young girl saying over and over how stupid the boy was for spoiling her chance of driving her brother's Camaro for once. Cora was visibly fuming (and Erica could almost swear that her ass was as well) letting out all the anger she would usually build by nature, meanwhile Isaac was just staring at the girl with his typical puppy eyes and smile that was half amusement and half repentance. Both Boyd and Erica smiled at the features on Isaac's face because they both knew what those meant, despite the explosive mood the other girl showed everybody knew what was behind both teens. Not unlike the teens themselves.
Erica snorted. "Well then I guess I win the bet," she said and then looked at Boyd who was looking at her with confusion.
"What bet?" he was used to Erica sometimes saying things that made either no sense or were too confusing to even try to understand.
She gave him another smile one which made Boyd shiver with fear because those kind of smiles in her always meant mischief, and usually her 'deeds' always ended up biting him in the ass. Erica patted Boyd's shoulder and then kissed him in the cheek, "Ask Laura," she whispered close to his ear and headed into the building
Seeing her disappear behind the doors Boyd looked back at the other couple of teens and then back at the door. Letting out a sigh he decided to go after Erica. "Holy shit. What was it about this time?" he asked but his voice noted that he obviously didn't want to.
Erica smirked without looking back at him. "Oh nothing special," her grin got wider just by imagining Boyd's face, "Let's just say that Isaac is, fortunately or unfortunately, way too into that for his own good. So much that it seems he's not even aware of it."
"And what exactly do you mean by 'that'?" the man frowns unable to understand most of the things the girl is saying… most of the times.
On the other hand Erica stops to look back at Boyd, her grin becoming even sassier. "Oh sweetie," she says leaning closer pecking his cheek, "I'm afraid you wouldn't understand unless you had that sixth sense that women have."
"What?" the teen was even more confused.
Changing her smile into a more playful one she stepped back and started pulling the boy. "Come on Sherlock we still have class." She says taking the guy's hand pulling him along.
So Boyd allowed the blonde girl to pull him along, not really sure of what her words meant or if he should be really worried that she and Laura had been making bets… again. But at the end of everything he can't help but feel happy that they still are who they are and do the things they do, and he couldn't have it any other way.
"So why are we doing this again?" he asked with a confused frown in his face.
The girl made a gentle smile and gave the boy a quick peck in the cheek. "Because," she paused closing the book from her hands, "You're terrible at studying by your own," having said that the girl copped the teen's cheek to make him look to the down on his lap, "So I'm here to make sure you focus on your book and nothing else." She patted him in the shoulder and gave him another peck in the cheek.
"Hey that's not..!"
"Eyes on the book." The girl quickly interrupted the boy forcing him to look at the book again by grabbing his chin.
"You know she's right Scott," said another girl who was glossing her lips, "You're already easy to distract and with Allison in the picture even more." Her gaze remained fixed on the little mirror she was using.
"That's not true!" complained Scott turning to her with a shocked look on his face while Allison once again turned his face towards the book.
"I wouldn't go against her if I were you McCall," the blonde guy sitting at the end of the couch scoffed looking at him, "But she's right you're actually easier to distract than a puppy." He laughed at the thought while Scott made another shocked face.
"You're no better you know?" said the girl right next to him grabbing his chin and forcing the blonde to look at the book on his hands. The boy frowned at her but she remained unimpressed. "Oh sweetie you know glaring doesn't work on me like with Scott or Stiles."
"Hey!" the other boy complained making a frown of his own, "I don't bend with Jackson's glare!"
"Oh yeah?" answered the blonde, "How about I bend you with my fist?"
"Focus." Said both girls forcing the boys to face their respective books.
The boys said no more forcing themselves to actually concentrate on the reading. Allison made a quick glance to her redheaded friend who kept a vigilant eye on the blonde boy, she was sure that if looks could kill Lydia's glare could set ablaze the entire campus and the thought made her giggle. Still despite her sometimes bossy nature Lydia could be really nice and caring towards other people even though she didn't actually show it too much, maybe because something inside of her forced her to keep a certain reputation that she wasn't willing to give up (Or as Stiles said she enjoyed being a bitch too much to just let it go). Then her eyes turned to the blonde boy beside her friend. Jackson was visibly sweating under the redhead's glare occasionally refraining his eyes from looking back at her, possibly out of the fear of suddenly bursting into flames if he dared to. The guy always seemed to be an arrogant smug who couldn't worry for anyone else but himself as she had thought at first (actually more like Stiles made him look like at first), but as she got to know him (just like with Lydia) she started to see under the layers and, as often, looks were quite deceiving. The guy was really caring and gentle with the people he considered close, always ready to help (even Stiles).
Both Lydia and Jackson were friends that Allison would never doubt to help if they ever asked her, and she knew she could always count on them whenever she had trouble.
Looking away from the odd couple that was Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore, Allison took a quick glance now to the boy sitting at her right by the other end of the couch. The boy she met at the beginning of high school and with whom she never thought (or maybe she had hopped… just a little) to end up with. A kid with messy-dark mop, cute-dimpled smile, and puppy-imploring eyes that just melted her right on the spot the first time she saw them all together. Her now boyfriend Scott McCall.
That time in high school had been a very hard one for each and every one of them; Jackson dealing with his identity crisis due the fact of discovering that his parents had adopted him; Lydia started to grow up from her vanity issues ('Although not really', as Jackson would say himself) because of the harsh judging that Stiles made about her after snapping one day at her (incidentally, that's how they became true friends); Scott dealing with his father's abandonment and the repercussions it had on his mother; Allison had to bear the emotional weight of her mother's deadly car accident which also caused her father to emotionally shut himself for the next three months; and finally Stiles who… actually it was hard to pinpoint what was going on with Stiles during that time. Not that no one cared, it was mostly because during that time the boy had started his actual habit (which still annoyed the fuck out of Jackson) of putting up this 'mask' when he was around people, a mask that grew bigger not only with the years but also as Stiles tended to drift away from people in general as if looking to always be alone.
Allison would sometimes wonder if it was mostly her fault. Mostly because everyone knew how Scott forgot about his almost brother Stiles since the moment she and Scott met. Probably Stiles had always resented her for taking away his only friend, of course it all was just mere conjecture as nothing ever came to be clarified between them. They sorta fell into a routine where they came together with everything else forgotten, or so it seemed.
"You're over thinking again." The sudden comment made Allison jump.
The girl frowned at her redhead friend. "I'm sorry?" not that she wanted to feign ignorance.
Lydia poked her between her brows with her pen making the girl frown at the contact. "Each time you're frowning it's because either something is really hard to understand or because you're thinking way too much about something," she moved the pen away, "And you over thinking something means you're worried." Ending with her usual enigmatic smiles.
Allison grinned at her, she wasn't really sure if she should be glad to have a friend that knew her pretty well or scared that said friend was Lydia. "I was just got caught up in memories," she said as if to not give it that much importance. Unfortunately her tone did and Lydia didn't let it pass her by.
"High school?" again Allison thought that Lydia was way too intuitive for her own good (or rather for everyone else' good).
Before answering, mostly because she wanted to sort out her choice of words before speaking, Allison glanced at the boys, first to Scott and then to Jackson. Both guys had chosen to use their headphones (Scott used a big pair that pinned the mop down to his skull while the blond used little ones that didn't cover anything on him… or so he had said) while amazingly continue their reading, both shaking their head probably to the music's beat.
"I guess... I was just wondering-"
"Hey there gang!" one loud yell reaching over the mass of voices and sounds on the place made the girls turn around to look at their scrawny friend who was making a hurried entrance.
Stiles was heavily sweating and his chest was going up and down almost as if his heart was about to jump out of it, his panting gave away that he had practically ran from his last class to the loft where everybody (mostly college students) used to hang out between breaks or just for the comfort of it. The same loft where Stiles had to work part time to earn extra money. Actually it was a nice place to study regardless if you were a student or member of the working staff (the staff consisted mostly of the owner and four baristas running the place on different schedules) and you could easily relax most of the semester (unless you were part of the staff who suffered onslaughts of clients during midterms and finals). And Stiles being good at making not only coffee but also baking all sorts of pastries and delicious-coffee-accompaniment goodies (as Scott had named them while Jackson said how stupid it sounded) it was a good job where he could take his time relaxing in the things he enjoyed so much, taking free time every now and then to catch up with homework or study ahead of schedule for his own exams without neglecting his duties.
"Hey Stiles!" Allison was the first one to greet him, also standing up from her seat to give him a hug. Lydia simply smiled at him.
"Hey there... ladies," the boy was still gasping for some air for his overworked lungs.
"Lemme guess," interrupted Lydia while pulling out a notebook from her fancy Dolce & Gabbana bag, "Mr. Harris?"
Stiles groaned in frustration at the memory, Lydia's uncanny power of deduction no longer crept him out. "He went all Jackson on me," he groaned again before slumping his backpack on the floor.
"What was that?" the blonde boy was already taking off his headphones with a scowl on his face.
Stiles smirked. "I said that Mr. Harris went all jackass on me," he paused and smiled at the blonde's frown, "But I don't need to explain you how to do that right? You're good at that"
"Oh I'm sure you haven't seen the best way to be one Stilinski," Jackson was already standing in front of Stiles with both guys ready for a little punch up when both suddenly froze at the foot tapping the floor.
"Jackson," Lydia's steady and calm voice made both teens shiver while Allison remained quiet with a slight smile of amusement, "Do we really need to go through this again?" Jackson turned to look at her; she had her arms crossed over her chest with an expectant look on her face.
Stiles smiled at the option of Jackson, being his usual stupid self, to give the wrong answer and make Lydia explode… on second thought…
"Now, now, come on Lyds," he said nervously smiling at the girl, "No need to get so worked up with the fuckwad"
"Hey!"
"In any case", Stiles kept saying before Lydia made her glare of doom, "Why don't I hurry up and prepare for my shift and make for you girls the usual?" Lydia dropped off the glare to give Stile her usual enigmatic smile.
"Ok", she patted his cheek, "Just watch the foam honey." With that she went back to her seat, patting the spot where Jackson was supposed to be sitting.
The blonde took his seat sighing in frustration, and before he placed his headphones back he glared at Stiles and pointed at him. "I swear Stilinski, if you spit on mine again I'll claw you to shreds." Having said that he plucked the headphones back and tried to focus on the book.
Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at Allison.
"Can I have mine with a little bit more of cream this time?" she asked with a shy smile to which the boy only nodded with a smile of his own.
"Hey Stiles!" the sudden yell from Scott made both teens look at him. The messy-mopped teen was already standing and trapping his buddy in a hug. "When did you get here?"
Stiles smiled and shook his head without breaking the hug. His friend was really way too absent minded for his own good.
The clueless teen made a confused frown. "Did I miss something?"
"Not really Scotty-boy." He said patting his shoulder while stepping back from the hug. "Why don't I get going and make you your favorite one?" Stiles smiled when he saw his friend's face beaming at the offering.
"With extra cinnamon?" the messy-hair boy asked with a sly smirk.
Stiles just winked at Scott while picking up his backpack and pacing to the back of the loft. "You're awesome dude!" yelled Scott behind him and Stiles merely waved his arm in recognition.
Figuring that it was best for both for both them to get back on track Allison made Scott sit back on his place to keep studying, besides it was better to distract the teen (as if it was that hard to accomplish) than see him pacing back and forth while he impatiently waited for his coffee specially made by Stiles. Everybody knew that Stiles was especially good in the kitchen, and one of the big reasons why he easily got the job on the loft was because the owner was impressed by his talent when dealing coffee beverages. They all grew to love Stiles' special touch with each one's coffee, even Jackson (whenever Stiles didn't pour anything funny in it of course).
Knowing the hyperactive teen as she knew him Stiles would take 15 minutes at much preparing their tray, so Allison decided to take a seat and get some reading.
A square silver colored tray had three filled mugs with smoky and delicious smelling coffee, each one with different touches from the others. The barista preparing the fourth and last mug was happily whistling some random song he heard earlier today and just couldn't get it out of his mind.
"Stiles?" the voice behind him made the boy turn around to see his co-worker in turn.
"Hey there Dany-boy!" he replied with a big smile.
"Stiles your shift is five minutes. What are you doing back here?" after his question the boy took a quick glance over the smaller boy's shoulder spotting four filled mugs.
"I just wanted some friendly time before starting my shift." he said smiling at his friend taking the tray in both hands.
"Lemme guess," Danny paused while pulling out more mugs from one the cupboards, "Did Lydia get angry again?", he finished smirking.
"Oh don't you give me that look Mahealani!" he said with feigned offense and pouting, "In any case you should know that is was that jerkface you call best friend who started it."
"Usually, right?" the hawaiian boy smirked again.
"Well he's your best friend so should know him better than anyone," the scrawny boy shrugged, "Anyway as soon as I'm done with this I'll take over so you can relax for your next class."
"That's really sweet of you, Sty." The soft tone the tanned boy used in that last words sent slight shivers down Stiles' spine just as the door was closing behind him. Not that Danny had to know.
Stiles and Danny had become acquaintances (or at the very least knew about each other's existence) back in high school went Stiles regarded Jackson as the greatest shithead in the universe (actually he still did but not so much than before). As far he knew Danny and Jackson were best friends since before high school and they pretty much enjoyed doing things together, which had struck Stiles as a real shock. Initially he had pictured (most like labeled) Jackson as real prick who took every chance he could of making fun of others by who they were and their circumstances, same for which said people were not really responsible. Probably the asshole frame he had place over Jackson started to crumble right when he learned that the blonde and Danny, who is openly gay, were actually friends.
Stiles would probably never say this out loud even if his life depended on it, but it was actually thanks to Jackson and his friendship with Danny that he had really learned what it meant to look far beyond the layers that people tended to build around themselves or look beyond the labels that bias made people build.
Snapping himself out of his thoughts Stiles came back to the couch that his friends were using, putting the tray on the small table in front of the couch and handing each mug to its respective owner: a café créme with extra creme for Allison; a café macchiato with slight foam for Lydia; an over-flavored-with-cinnamon cappuccino for Scott; and finally a double café doppio for Jackson. The last one sharpening his eyes at the slim barista before even he even leant to smell his coffee.
"Relax willya?" the boy rolled his eyes while the blonde boy kept staring at him, "Today I'm in a good mood so I didn't put anything on it." The blonde only pointed a finger at him as a warning and he just rolls his eyes..
They made some more chit chat while sipping their mugs until Stiles was already heading back to the back room to start his shift, where he found Danny out of his apron and putting something into his satchel. After some more sarcastic comments, snarky comebacks and slight flirting that mostly made Stiles feel awkward, Danny finally left for his next class leaving the slim kid alone to attend the loft. He figured he should get ready to bake some pastries and make snacks now that nobody was requiring attention but when he heard the counter's bell being smashed to death by some impatient client he sighed. He really wanted to get some baking done for today.
Glancing over the service window that connected the backroom to the loft he saw four teens by the counter waiting to be served. Two guys and two girls. The first one to get his attention was the taller boy with blonde and curly hair, matching the cuteness of his big smile and bright puppy-like eyes. Next to him was the girl currently smashing the bell as if in doing so all of her frustrations would vanish, she had long dark brown hair and eyes matching with her light toned skin, and also making a great contrast with her deep frown and the very-pissed-off look on her face. Then there was the second boy who was tall and dark, actually not as tall as the blonde kid but still had a good height, he was groaning and making frustrated faces as if he really didn't want to be there. Last there was a blonde chick with long frizzy locks swaying back and forth as she laughed, her smirk and big eyes shining with a gleam of mischief made her look like kind of a bitch (or so Stiles had thought immediately).
As the bell kept ringing under the girl's incessant punching Stiles sighed.
Mondays were really a bitch.
The clock was now indicating eleven in the morning and the man looking at the hour had just finished reading some papers that were left for him over his elegant oak desk, he softly rubbed the bridge of his nose groaning over the fact that the day had just barely started and he was already this much fed up. Not also because of work and the multiple meetings he had to attend today, but also because her dear and lovely sister Laura had finally sent him the so promised text with the details to go pick up their uncle later that day.
It was not that he hated his uncle or anything of the sort (except that sometimes he really had the sudden urge to smother him to death with his own tie) but Derek was very reluctant to be alone with Peter for the time the ride lasted. His uncle had a nasty habit of drawing too much attention to himself, and unfortunately the people around him, by being too much… 'being too much Peter' he bitterly thought. If there was one only word allowed to describe his uncle at the time then Derek could easily pull out one word at the top of his mind, that word was sassy. Not exactly the word that would cover much of was Peter really was, but the raven haired man thought that it was close enough to actually explain why things always went out of control when hanging out with the older male.
Peter was also way too unpredictable for Derek's sake.
The sudden buzzing in his pocket stole another groan from him, it was a bad omen and Derek could just feel it in the air. Not bothering to even read the name on the screen he quickly took the call not really surprised at all by the smugly voice on the other side.
"Good morning my sweet and cute Dery-boy." The soft tone of the older Hale as always was annoying as fuck for him.
Derek sighed. "Weren't you supposed to arrive tonight after eight?"
"As charming and polite as ever aren't you Dery-boy?" Derek could practically feel the smirk on his uncle's face. Just like with Laura.
"Damn it Peter!" he barked, "You know Mondays are a fucking turmoil at work and they keep me very busy. And stop calling me like that"
"Nop, I won't ever stop. And yes, you're right I should have arrived later tonight, but I just figured I could take some time for myself and snoop around the city", he made a soft laughter.
After a few seconds Derek's brain switched at the words. "You lied to Laura about your arrival to not get dragged." It was more of an accusation.
"Dery-boy is not that I don't like Laura keeping me company but you must understand that I'm not that really eager to deal with a Laura-Hale-trademark-ranting after a flight." he sighed.
The young Hale winced at the memory. He, better than any other person from his family, knew how painful it was to endure a Laura-Hale-trademark-ranting, especially if he got stuck with that in the middle of a long car ride. Sometimes Derek had finished those days wishing he could've just shoved a drill through his ears.
"Besides," the older man spoke after a few seconds of silence from the young one, "It's a lot more fun to spend time with you my Dery-boy.", and he chuckled.
"Don't you mean that's is easier to annoy the fuck out of me and have your good share of laughter at my expense?", he growled. Definitely being the whole day stuck with his uncle was a horrible idea, more so if it was still fucking Monday.
"Details. Not important. What is important though is that I'll take my sweet sweet time attending personal business and I'll give you a call after five, ok?"
"Peter I told you-"
"Ah ah Dery-boy." He quickly interrupted. "If there's one thing I know about your work schedule is that since you hate Mondays sooo much you always, and I repeat, always arrange all of your meetings to start in sequence at noon and, since you like to go pretty damn fast through the topics, they usually last all together an hour and a half at much." his uncle chuckled again. "So don't give me your 'I am busy' excuse, ok?"
"Peter I…," Derek made a paused and let out a sigh as he weighed the possible outcomes. "As long as you promise not to be hooked up with anyone when I get there." Taking into account past experiences Derek decided to go with that, because having to drag along an innocent soul was not fair. Besides it was the option with least possibilities of him getting into embarrassing situations. 'Not very likely but still.'
"Ugh, are you serious?", he whined.
"Peter." he growled as a warning.
Finally the older Hale sighed in frustration. "Fine. You win. No hook ups."
"You better." he warned again.
"You're no fun." he grumbled. "Anyway see you later Dery-boy. Love you."
"Ok, later. Love you too. And stop calling me like that!" he snapped before dropping the call.
Derek sighed once more before staring at the black screen of his phone. He really didn't think that his uncle could stay clear of trouble, or better yet stay away from potential trouble for him. Which was the usual case. So with another frustrated groan he headed for the conference room.
Mondays are totally a bitch.