And here we are, the long awaited Real World AU I've been working on. There are a few notes that go with this story; first of all because I don't know many places in the US well enough to write about them this is set in Britain, mostly in London. Also London is an amazing vibrant city, so I think it works to set this story there. Secondly, there are a lot of fairly heavy issues dealt with in this fic. Severe injuries and recoveries, murder, violent homophobia and at least two chapters with much more graphic sex scenes than I've previously written in this ship. There will be content warnings and trigger warnings on every chapter so I hope nobody finds it too upsetting. Also if you are not cool with transgender characters or Muslim characters then this is definitely not something you should read because two of the main characters cover those bases.
Lastly, it was never really explored in Stakes what Marceline's mother's ethnicity actually was apart from not Caucasian. In respect of that I have chosen not to whitewash her, and instead described her as half-Indian and used the term 'desi' in moments of character self-description. This isn't meant in any way as a racial slur, it's a word that a number of my Indian friends use to describe themselves, so I hope it doesn't cause any offence to anyone.
Also a shoutout to my awesome proof reader RaInBoWsKuLlDrOpS, and to my beautiful fiancée who has spent the last few months patiently listening to me rant about this fic obsessively. You guys rock.
So for this chapter your Content Warnings: social anxiety, transgender characters, historic character death. I hope you enjoy this fic, please leave reviews because your words of support are really lovely and I love all my readers.
"Hey watch where you're- oh crap!"
The camera leaped out of her hands and in slow motion she watched it swan dive to the polished marble floor. It shattered into a thousand pieces before she could so much as think about lunging to catch it. A slender hand had shot out and grabbed her jacket though, keeping her from pitching forward and potentially breaking her face on the hard floor, too. On reflection Bonnie decided she'd have rather have a smashed up nose than have trashed Jake's precious camera.
"Hey, you ok? Sorry about that. I'll get you a new one?"
"You broke Lady."
The stranger blinked at her.
"You... named your camera?"
Bonnie looked up, equally bewildered. She was standing in the middle of a fairly impressive display of shoes in the design museum; off balance and just a little too close to a tall heavily tattooed girl maybe only a year or two older than herself dressed like some kind of punk-hippie fusion. The stranger had a wild looking mane of long dark hair cascading to her waist, midnight black and very silky. Her pretty face was slightly angular and all high cheekbones and full lips. Bonnie flushed after a moment when she realised she was just standing there too close and staring at her like she'd never seen a woman before. She looked down and took a step backwards, mortified.
"Named my...? Oh, no! Not like that! It's not actually my camera, my friend named it after his girlfriend. She's called Lady, too. Um."
The extremely pretty punk-hippie girl nodded like that had made everything perfectly clear and wasn't just a garbled rush of absolute nonsense. Bonnie blushed and looked away again, angry with herself. She'd broken Lady-camera after Jake had begged her to be careful with it and now she was stammering like an idiot in front of some very pretty stranger who was still holding her sleeve. That was exactly the opposite of how Bonnie had wanted her day off to be. Although to be fair the camera really hadn't been her fault, the other girl had barged into her.
Pretty Stranger let go of her and dropped to all fours, scraping up the remains of Lady-camera. Bonnie watched her for a second, still slightly dazed from being suddenly within inches of such an unexpectedly lovely face. And wow, those yoga pants left very little to the imagination. She flushed again and hurried to help gather together the pieces of the smashed camera. Bonnie was now even more annoyed with herself because apparently an attractive girl couldn't bend over right in front of her in very tight pants without her brain plummeting straight into the gutter.
"Think Lady's salvageable?" Pretty Stranger asked with a sad smile, looking back over her shoulder at where Bonnie was staring forlornly at the wreckage. She shook her head, fighting back the sudden tears that were prickling hotly in the corners of her eyes. Jake had been absolutely thrilled when he'd gotten that camera. They'd all clubbed together and bought it for him last Christmas so that he could do some professional looking photos for his design work. Even Finn had contributed and he was saving for his surgeries, he didn't have a penny to spare.
"Hey, c'mon, don't look like you're gonna start crying. I said I'd get you a new one, right? We'll fix this, it's just a thing, nothing that we can't replace. At least you didn't get hurt, yeah?" Pretty Stranger told her in a gentle voice when she noticed Bonnie's distress.
"I know, I just, I promised to be careful with it. Jake trusted me and I should have worn the wrist-strap. I've lost all the pictures for his new collection."
And dammit she was so close to sniffling, why did she always end up in these crazy situations? Sitting on the floor of the V&A museum with some random pretty hippie chick surrounded by shards of Jake's former pride and joy, trying to explain that he'd named his camera after his girlfriend. She wished she'd never gotten out of bed that morning. Interacting with actual real people was always so stressful and she was on the verge of an anxiety meltdown. It was even worse because the other girl had noticed and commented on it. Bonnie wanted to just curl up and disappear.
Pretty Stranger was looking her up and down critically with lovely bronze coloured eyes, completely unaware of Bonnie's silent panic attack. Her gaze landed on the bag Jake had given Bonnie. It was one from his first collection with his trademark little yellow dog label prominent on the front pocket.
"Your bag's a Jacob Madigan." she said, sounding almost accusatory. "Where did you find that bag? I looked everywhere, he doesn't make bags."
"He doesn't make bags anymore. This was part of Jake's final undergrad project. He gave it to me for Christmas when he got the camera." Bonnie replied a little defensively, meltdown almost forgotten. Pretty Stranger's eyes looked like they might pop out.
"You actually know him? For real? Oh man, did I just break Jacob Madigan's camera? Unreal! He's like, the most awesome underground designer on the scene right now!"
"I know who he is, I grew up in the house next door to him." Bonnie replied, a little stung. So Jake was getting popular with the fashion conscious eco crowd and that was really cool but her knees were beginning to ache from being crouched on the floor in front of a display of fabulous shoes by some famous label. And she was pretty sure a group of foreign teenagers had just taken a photo of the two of them rather than the exhibits. Probably because Pretty Stranger was still crouched on all fours in her almost obscenely tight yoga pants. Some highly inappropriate part of Bonnie wanted to follow those kids and ask for a copy of the picture they'd just snapped.
Bonnie was still staring after the tourist kids who'd pushed off into the rapidly thickening crowd when the same tanned slender hand that had stopped her from falling a minute before took hold of her arm and hauled her gently to her feet.
"Look, I feel awful for breaking the camera of the most awesome designer in London and also nearly knocking you to the floor. Do you wanna do lunch? My treat. And I can either buy a replacement for you to take back or write Mr Madigan a cheque. Or y'know, maybe meet him and befriend him and get exclusive info about his new collections? Just, whatever's cool."
And Bonnie swore she meant to say 'No way, you leave my friend alone. You made me look like a complete moron today and I am completely capable of buying Jake a replacement camera just as soon as I work out how much I can survive on for food this month'. But then Pretty Stranger flashed her a smile that was three parts raw charisma and one part pleading; her whole face lit up with an entirely faked innocence. Bonnie felt her knees go just a little bit weak.
"Yeah, fine, I'd like that."
It came out a bit breathless and squeaky and the internal monologue of self-doubt reasserted itself with a vengeance in Bonnie's brain.
See this is why attractive girls don't talk to you. You can't even accept a perfectly friendly invitation to lunch without sounding like some kind of thirsty stalker. Just be cool, ok?
But Pretty Stranger hadn't noticed, she was weaving her way nimbly through the crowds towards the exit leaving Bonnie to scurry after her. At least nobody but the anonymous mass of tourists saw her continuing blush.
...
"Are you sure this is vegan?""
"I... think so? Bread is vegan, right? And peppers are definitely vegan. And garlic is a vegetable. So dough balls in garlic pepper sauce are bound to be vegan. I think. Um, sorry if I poisoned you."
Wow, smooth. You're certainly on fire today, Bonnibel. Maybe next you can amaze her with your incredible knowledge of things other than vegetable names. Idiot.
She was saved the trouble of having to make awkward conversation by the timely arrival of Jake, trailed by a sulky looking Finn and his best friend Susan. They must have been hanging with Jake when he'd gotten her text about coming to meet the girl who'd broken his camera. It was getting less and less awkward every time she hung out with Finn; mostly because when she could see how happy and comfortable he was in himself these days she knew their awful break up had been worth it. Still, Bonnie missed having someone to share the little things with. Having an ex-boyfriend felt weird but she still missed him. Even if it had been hard to accept his apology for the painful way things had ended between them. But the six months they hadn't been talking had been surprisingly hard on her and in the end they'd been unable to avoid each other. It was easier to just let time smooth over the cracks and try to find a new way forward as friends. Another six months later and they were almost back to where they'd started, just close friends again. It was like the events of a year before hadn't happened.
"Ah crap! What the hell did you do to it? C'mon Bon, I let you borrow my camera for like, one morning..."
Jake plopped down theatrically onto the chair next to hers with a huge sigh and helped himself to a slice of her definitely-not-vegan pizza. She didn't argue; he was totally right.
"Jake, I'm so sorry! But it wasn't my fault entirely, it was... um..." she floundered. Bonnie indicated the girl sitting across from her inspecting the garlic pepper sauce hesitantly with her brow furrowed. She hadn't stopped to ask her name and the dark haired girl hadn't offered it.
"Oh, sorry. I'm Marceline." she supplied, looking up brightly and shooting that charming smile at Jake. "And you must be Jacob Madigan! This is awesome, I mean seriously this is the best thing that's happened to me all year. I bought a pair of the shoes you were showing last year! They're amazing."
Jake looked stunned and shook the proffered hand with his mouth half open. Bonnie sympathised; the other girl was almost dazzling them with how bright and perfect her smile was. Susan rolled her eyes and grabbed a menu over the top of them. She shoved it in Finn's direction and flicked her fingers in brief sign language to him.
"It's just Jake." the older boy mumbled, embarrassed.
"Jake. Wow, I get to use your actual real name and everything. This is literally bananas."
"Hey Bon? I think we're gonna pass. Thanks for the invite but it's a bit pricey here." Finn mumbled, handing the menu back across the table. Bonnie nodded a little sadly. Finn didn't have much spare cash and Susan's sponsorship still wasn't finalised so they were both living off the absolute bare minimum for the foreseeable future. She wished she had enough spare to pay for them but she had a pretty limited income herself.
But the girl- Marceline, she'd said her name was- broke off from where she was gushing at Jake about his shoe designs and frowned around the table.
"Hey now, I invited you all out. I'm paying, buy whatever you want. Especially you, Jacob. Jake."
Finn and Susan shared an incredulous look and a quick flash of signing to confirm they'd both heard the same thing before they dove back towards the menus.
So that's how an attractive, mysterious and apparently wealthy stranger ended up buying Bonnie, Jake, Finn and Susan lunch. Bonnie stayed mostly silent through the meal, content to listen to the conversation unfold around her. Jake was talking animatedly about how awesome being a designer was. He'd taken a fair amount of ridicule from his friends for pursuing a more traditionally feminine career path but as he pointed out he was in an elite design school surrounded by gorgeous women all day. And when he'd first met Lady- the girl, not the camera- he'd offered to design and make any pair of shoes she wanted. He swore it was the best way to start a conversation with cute girls. Bonnie fleetingly wished she'd chosen to pursue shoe design instead of science; girls never wanted her to design a DNA amplification probe for them.
Susan was laughing at something Finn had said and Jake was rooting around in his bag for his sketchpad. Marceline turned her attention back to Bonnie and smiled again, causing the other girl to almost spill her glass of water.
"And what do you do, pretty-in-pink?"
Bonnibel took a moment to compose herself before she replied. She made a mental note to wear less pink next time if it was something people were going to comment on.
"Scientist. Um, I'm a, um, scientist."
"Any particular field of science or just like, all of it?"
Bonnie blushed again and had to gulp hard around the mouthful of water she'd just taken before she could reply.
"Um, genetics?" she mumbled, mortified. Marceline smiled more widely.
"Are you completely certain? You don't sound certain."
"Yeah, she's definitely a geneticist. She's got DNA base earrings and everything. And she gets really excited by gherkins." Finn jumped in with his trademark annoying grin in place.
Everyone laughed and Bonnie really wished in that moment that she could just hide under the table and possibly melt into a little ball of mortified social anxiety. Marceline was looking at her like she was some kind of interesting circus freak and even though Jake had heard the joke a thousand times before he was almost crying with laughter.
"There's a gene called 'gurken' and it's got some very interesting developmental properties in fruit flies. I don't get excited by it, I just like that it has a German name. I lived in Germany for a bit when I was a kid." Bonnie mumbled, giving in to the urge to hide and covering her face with her hands.
"C'mon, you know better than to let Fionna wind you up, Bon." Jake said with an eye roll. "She just- ah crap."
But it was too late. Finn had instantly gone from relaxed and laughing to stock still, staring wide eyed at his brother. Susan had gone silent too and Marceline was staring around in polite confusion, teacup halfway to her lips.
"Every fucking time, Jake! How hard is it for you to remember? I'm a boy and my name is Finn!" he hissed angrily, face already starting to turn the blotchy red that Bonnie knew meant he was maybe thirty seconds from bursting into tears.
Next second Finn had bolted out of the little cafe with Susan hot on his heels, Jake calling after him.
"Finn! Come on, man! It was an accident! Finn! Shit, I better go find him. Sorry, Bonnie, Marce. I'll catch you later, yeah?" and he grabbed his sketchbook and bag and sprinted to the door too. Bonnie blinked at the three empty chairs where her friends had been sitting a moment before.
"Did I miss something important?" Marceline asked carefully after a second of awkward silence.
Bonnibel hesitated, unsure how much she should disclose. But Jake had pretty much just outed Finn and if his careless words hadn't done it then the other boy's reaction probably would have. Nothing she could do but just explain.
"Finn's a transgender guy." Bonnie said with a sigh. "Jake's been mostly ok about it but he still slips up and uses the wrong name and pronouns from time to time. Finn gets upset, Susan acts like his angry bodyguard and it makes Jake really defensive. So then stuff like this happens. And I just sit here and do absolutely nothing to help. I mean what could I even do?"
But the dark haired girl was nodding like it all made sense.
"He's not been on testo long then? I wasn't sure at first. His voice is really good but he looks a lot younger than your average student. Chill, I don't care how he identifies so long as he's a nice guy. Must be rough being constantly misgendered by his brother though."
Bonnie nodded, relieved she didn't have to explain the basics of Finn's transition yet again. They may have ended on bad terms but she would defend his identity to the death.
"He's just had his first months of meds. It was really tough on Finn at first. For a while Jake was really upset too. I think he felt like he was losing something important. But now he's mostly ok with the idea that instead of losing his baby sister he gets an awesome little brother instead; they're the same person but just more open and happy. Finn's kinda sensitive right now because he's still adjusting to new hormones and his professional career is pretty much at a standstill. He's an athlete, marathons and stuff, can't run far in a chest binder though."
And Marceline nodded thoughtfully, not even a slight trace of disapproval on her face. Bonnie let out the breath she'd been holding slowly between her teeth. She might not see this girl again, ever, but if she did it was good to know she wasn't a bigoted transphobe. Nobody was going to be mean about Finn, not when Bonnie was there to argue them into silence.
"His girlfriend is nice, seems very protective of him." Marceline observed after a moment of awkward silence. At least that was a conversation starter.
"Susan isn't Finn's girlfriend, she's his best friend and former wing woman. From when they used to hit up lesbian bars, before he was out." Bonnie replied. "And now they're sport college buddies together. Finn runs and Susan's an up and coming name in athletics. Decathlon, javelin, weights. She's all about fitness."
"Ah, cool."
They finished their drinks in silence. Just when Bonnie was starting to get up the nerve to ask the other girl for her number ("You know, so I can pass it on to Jake for his camera") Marceline glanced at her watch and stood up abruptly with wide eyes.
"Crap! I've got to go. I have somewhere I needed to be, like, ten minutes ago." she announced in a rush. She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a wad of twenty pound notes, counted out a few of them and stuffed the cash into the hands of the confused waitress passing their table. Then she was hurrying out of the door, leaving Bonnibel staring after her rapidly retreating back.
"There's like, almost two hundred pounds here?" the waitress asked, confused. "Your bill is just under sixty five. Do you, uh, want the change? Or is it a really good tip?"
Bonnie hesitated, wavering between doing what was probably the right thing or making her own life just a touch more comfortable for the rest of the month. Even in her remote corner of the city rents were near enough extortion and Bonnie didn't have much left over at the end of each month. She didn't have time for a part time job now that her university study had really picked up the pace.
"Sure, the change please." she said after a moment's tortured thought. It must be a mistake. She'd track the pretty girl down and give the spare cash back. Definitely. Probably.
It wasn't until Bonnie was tucking the extra money into her own wallet and leaving a very generous tip that she noticed she'd also gotten handed back a business card along with the change. It was a plain minimalist design, clean cream card with an old fashioned typewriter style font. One side bore the name 'Marceline Petrikova' and a mobile number. She flipped it over, on the other side there were just three words printed; 'Activist', 'Feminist', 'Guitarist'. Well, that was good to know at least. Bonnie slid it into her wallet next to the cash she resolutely refused to feel guilty about. She decided to stop for groceries on the way home; fancy groceries of the kind she could normally only afford after receiving money from elderly relatives on her birthday.
...
"I made some new friends today, I think."
He just stared at her without a flicker of emotion. Today was a bad day; the worst he'd had in the six months since he'd moved.
"I walked into someone at the museum and I broke her camera by accident. She seems really nice, quiet and kinda shy though. It was her friend's camera actually and it's the weirdest coincidence. He's this amazing new designer I bought some shoes from last year. You know my really awesome red boots? Anyway I went for lunch with this girl and her designer friend and some other people they knew. It was nice, until they had an argument and left. I'm sorry I was late. Are you mad at me? I stopped by that little bakery you like on the way here. I brought you a slice of cheesecake to say sorry."
That got a bit of a response; he looked around and frowned at her.
"Cheesecake?"
"Yeah, the really nice vanilla one. Your favourite. I don't eat it but I know you do. Remember that time you took me to the cricket? And you had cheesecake and I stole your strawberries. And you told me all about the pick-up games you played on the beach in Barbados?"
"I lived in Barbados for a time, you know."
"I know you did, Uncle Simon. A long time ago, before I was born. You got married there. You told me the wedding on the beach was the loveliest thing you'd ever seen. And you took me there on holidays when I was thirteen; we ate barbecued fish on that same beach. Do you remember any of that?"
He nodded happily and then turned to stare out of the window again but she was certain he didn't have any idea what she was talking about. Barbados had been lovely; it felt nice to talk about their memories even if she was increasingly just reminiscing with herself. Marceline struggled to keep her sigh as quiet as possible. Somehow he still noticed if she looked sad and she didn't want to give him any reason to be distressed. Simon had already had more than enough distress in his life on her account.
"Have you seen Betty today?" he asked her after a few quiet moments.
"No, Simon. Not today."
It was easier to just say that every time he asked her. When he'd first moved into the care home she'd tried to explain that Betty had been killed in the house fire a long time ago. But he'd been so heart broken. It was like he was hearing the news for the first time over and over every time she had to tell him. It was awful for her to relive it too and then she'd had to comfort him while he cried for his long dead wife. He'd forgotten all about it half an hour later and he'd asked her if she'd seen Betty so she'd just told him no, not today.
They sat in silence for a while longer listening to the birds singing outside in the thin afternoon sunshine. It took a while before she realised she wasn't just imagining it; Simon was humming quietly to himself. She listened hard and then couldn't keep back the nostalgic smile that spread across her face. It was 'Strawberry Fields Forever', their favourite song together when she'd been little. It was the first thing Simon had taught her to play on the piano.
"Marcy."
She sat forward attentively. It wasn't often he said her name anymore and she really hadn't thought he'd recognised her today.
"Yeah, Simon? I'm right here, what do you need?"
He paused and looked at her, seeming confused that she'd spoken to him or that there was even another person in the room with him at all.
"She's a good girl, my little Marcy. She's so smart and so brave. She's been through so much but she still smiles every morning when I wake her up for school. She's a good girl."
He nodded to himself before he turned back to the window, still humming softly.
"Yeah, she tries her best. She doesn't want to let you down, Simon. You'll always be her hero. No matter what." Marcy replied around the sudden lump in her throat.