I have nothing to say on the moment except all of y'all are just way awesome, I just. I can't even. You guys. I know by fact my Blellie story isn't the best on the net, or whatever, but I'm glad someone had read through it and actually liked it, and not to mention, REVIEWED IT?! The hell? You guys. I'm like, I can't thank you enough. So with that, in this chapter, we have a little bit more than just-a-glimpse of Blellie. We actually had a little scene of them! Well, make that two scenes, thank you very much. Anyways, SPECIAL THANKS to ShipperHeart453 for providing me with information on Marley/Jake/Kitty without spoiling too much. And these are a few of my responds to the reviews which needs an answer:-
jenpepper: I can't post daily, I'm afraid. :( Lately, my holidays are filled with activities that I need to attend, but I'll try to update it at least once a week. Thanks for the review, and the PM. (It's because of your PM, I updated, y'know?)
wires and waves: Hi :D. First, thanks for telling me that. Second, grammars had always been a struggle for me, but reading what you've said in the review that my spellings are perfect, it literally lift my spirits up considering English isn't my native language. Third, that's so awesome that you think it's funny, 'cause I'm bad at humor, like seriously. Fourth, I tried to portray Nellie the best I could without really, making her out-of-character. Fifth, I can't assure you on Aylin's character 'cause I'm mostly trying to focus on Nellie with her brother(s) dramas, and high school drama- but I'll take it as a consideration. Sixth, of how Blellie happened- all I could comment is that, it's going to be an interesting night! lol.
Warning: Almost rape scene.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their rightful owner(s).
The Golden Being
chapter 3: the golden save
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There are a few things Nellie used to bicker with herself whether or not she should tell everyone (or at least someone) about it, and eventually decided she should just shut it. Here are a few of those things; when she's eleven, she had accidentally broke Uncle Stephan's 'glorious, one-of-a-kind, way-too-expensive' horse statue while she's hiding from Jesse, and the old uncle, as jolly as he was, went lunatic when he found what's left of the statue, crumbling on the floor. Like, his face just turned into this deep red color and at one point, Jesse was so scared, he asked their father if Uncle Stephan was going to explode.
He didn't, not after dad ordered like new plates and vases and they spent three hours by breaking it while screaming in rage.
She didn't tell a soul about what she's done.
Then there's the incident when she was fourteen. The first time anyone had ever noticed her, let alone took an interest in her. Gerald Owens was fifteen then, with a smile that could melt just about anyone and the gentleness that could swoon her all over again. But Jesse wasn't having any of it. He was against the idea of him just by the first sight of him— and no. In the end, she still lied at Jesse that Gerald wasn't her first kiss.
She didn't tell anyone, not even when Cameron confronted her.
After that, the secret she currently lives on. Being Nellie Burgess. Just a 'normal' teenager with a 'normal, totally not-popular, low-profiled' brother and a 'normal, not-wealthy, not-the-owners-of-a-big-company' family who 'do-not-live-leisurely' in Washington. Her 'just-another-businessman' father doesn't just decided to build the third Andromeda Private Academy in Columbus because it's the nearest place to where she's heading then, Lima. And she certainly doesn't have a snobby brother who thinks highly of himself; in everyone's unknown eyes, Nellie's brother is a down-to-earth kinda guy and is very busy at college.
Oh well, that's a bunch of lies.
A lie which covers up the truth, the truth she doesn't dare to tell anyone about it, not yet.
She sighs. But we couldn't really count that, now can we? Her family knew what she is currently doing— It drove Jesse mad for weeks, before and after, she came to McKinley. Still though, she wouldn't mind telling Blaine— but she knows she can't.
Even Blaine, and she strongly believes it, would act differently once he knows who she really is.
Not Nellie Burgess, but Nellie Elisabeth St. James, the third child of Joseph and Laura St James, one of the wealthiest couple alive in the United States, she's also very talented in arts- it wouldn't matter if it's performing arts, or an artistic arts- and heiress to the nation-wide company, Andromeda Group.
I would tell him, she decides, sinking deeper into her thought. When it's time, I'd tell him. I'd tell everyone.
And if they act any differently, then she knows which one of them are just pretending, and which ones are true. Nellie ruffles her hair, finding it's weird and strange because for sixteen years, she kept her hair long. And then, she cut it. Simply just like that. Not that she regretted it- she doesn't- she just feels odd towards it, sometimes. It's like, she expects to twirl her long hair, but suddenly finding it short.
Her eyes scans to her paper, finding her hands had doodles alphabets into a word— frightening word.
Jenkins.
And then, of course, there's this secret she's still dwelling on whether or not to tell at least someone about it. Blake Jenkins. The incident when he showed up at her front door last week's Friday's night, with his blond friend's arm over his shoulders helplessly, out-of-cold and completely, utterly drunk. She remembers coming across as shocked and surprised seeing him there, but his only response was showing her his strong I-don't-have-time-with-your-useless-expression-you-wretched-insolent-child look.
Nothing really happened.
He explained his blond friend, named Maxfield, wasn't having a good day and wasn't supposed to chunk more than a glass of alcohol— but obviously, he didn't listen. So, he happened to stumble upon a wasted-Maxfield and decided he should calm his friend down, and asked Aylin a quiet, peaceful place to lie Maxfield down. God knows why on earth she suggested her place— although yes, she's correct— but she did, and there he stood, with the blond guy, already passed-out in his arms, his face looked annoyed.
She took a step back and he entered, dragging the blond along behind.
She instructed for him to lie the blond on the sofa, while she checked for a bin for the blond to puke at when he feels like it. As soon as she placed the bin closed and within the blond's reach, things immediately— and she means really, really immediately—fell awkward between her and the chestnut-haired athlete.
(Yes, among other things, Jenkins was well-known for his athletic skills).
She remembers how he looks like; handsome, that was certain. Simply in a navy blue T-shirt which shows every piece of his muscles out for everyone's entertainment, including hers. With that, he was paired with a seemingly worn-out jeans, and a black coat. Pretty casual for a rich kid, right? This is saying something because she practically grows up watching Jesse, as a guy as he could be, chooses his clothes like a girl ("Oh no, no no. That's just... What was I thinking buying that? I probably wasn't. Cedric," that's their butler, "was I high when I bought this piece of ...nightmare?") and the same goes to the other wealthy sons she met over her sixteen years old life- all stood fabulously and smugly.
But then, she had thought, although as simple as Jenkins appeared, he still looked smug. And fabulous.
So, it's nothing new after all.
Things were pretty close to normal when she found him staring at the whole place that is her home, and spoke up, "Who are you?"
She was confused, of course. "What do you mean?"
"Your place," he drawled, so ever slowly, his eyes narrowed. "There's not a single picture of you, or your family. Except for this one," he's standing near the kitchen counter then, bending down to get a better view of the small framed-picture. It was taken when Kristin was nine, Jesse five and she was three, at the beach, somewhere in France. He was correct- that was the only picture she decided to put.
Only because it's a risk if she puts more.
She thought that single picture won't reveal too much. People won't recognized those sands they're standing on was somewhere in France— and Jesse had a chubby face when he's a kid, barely anyone would noticed who they really were. Kristin also had a childish face, pretty recognizable, but she wasn't as popular as Jesse was; so that should not be a problem too. The only other picture she had of her family is in her bedroom; a recent picture when they went to New Zealand last year, skiing. It was a risk putting that picture because there was no doubt, if you stared at it for too long, you'd quickly realized who's in the frame.
But Nellie doubted anyone would go into her room, so what the hell?
"Who are you?" he repeated, stands straightly again and lets a few seconds passed before looking back at her.
She hesitated, forming sentences in her head, trying to get the answer straight, without giving it away. She knew he was smart- she just hoped he wasn't smart enough to figure out she's lying. "I, um," she looked down at her feet, sweats surfacing on her palms. "I don't have the, uh, best memories of them."
Which is a lie.
Her family was the best.
But he didn't need to know that.
And relief flooded her whole body when the next thing she heard was him, saying, "Oh. I apologize, then." He stepped away from the kitchen counter, now observing a few photograph she took, framed against the walls. There's a few she bought— all of which tells a story. "You're a photographer?" he asked without even glancing at her, his voice smooth and clean.
She nodded her head, slightly beaming proudly. "It's a hobby. An exciting hobby."
"I can see you're very passionate about it," he noted, still gazing at the many pictures. "Do you take pictures for school?"
That caught her off guard. "I, uh, I— what?"
"School," he turned to her when he said this, his dark eyes shooting straightly back at her. His brows furrowed together and a frown etched his beautiful face, "I asked you, if you take any pictures for school? For the... magazine or any other things?"
Her mouth went dry, "How are you, um, sure we went to the same school?"
"Do we not?" He asked, now completely confused.
"We do!" she answered back, too quickly for her own taste. She composed herself, counting from number five to zero to calmed herself down. She slowly came to him, gazing quickly at one of the pictures before turning her attention back to him. "We do. I just, I don't expect you to... you know, acknowledge my existence. I mean, I'm a no one. You're a... somebody."
He seemed to understand what she's saying when he nodded his head slowly, eyeing the pictures back. "That is true." His tone is clip and simple, and sometimes even terrifying. "But I strangely... remember you. How can I not? You're the girl that got save from that senior, am I correct? That senior had guts— both a brave and a stupid act."
She kinda smiled at that, remembering that moment where she finally had a friend. "Yeah. He's... good."
"Good," he tested the word on his tongue, but with a disgust tone all over it. A paused, a beat passed, when he added. "Something I'm not particularly professional with."
"What do you mean?" it came out slow, a whisper. Yet the curiosity was loud, wanting for an answer.
He looked at her again- his eyes looking dangerously through her. Only then she realized how close they were standing; shoulders would be brushing if any of them move. She knew two things on the spot: 1) she wasn't supposed to get so close to Blake-Freaking-Jenkins on the first place, and 2) her heartbeat wasn't supposed to drum as much as it did on the moment.
He looked away after a good nine seconds passed, swallowing thickly. "You wouldn't understand."
Her stubbornness kicking in as she crossed her arms and spin her body to face him. "Oh yeah? Try me."
He kinda grinned, but she wasn't sure. "It's a long story," he told her simply.
"And we've got all the times in the world!" She spatted back, dropping her hands after she gestured to her whole room, emphasizing the word 'world'. She also smiled by the end of her sentence, but not any kind of smiles- it's her 'I'm-winning-this-argument-whether-you-like-it-or-not' smile. A smile she usually used when she argues with her brother, or her unofficial brothers.
He chortled, his grin growing back, "Well, isn't that a nice thought?"
"It is," she grinned back playfully, a surprise now as she's thinking about it. But then, her smile dropped. "And then we realized how it's just a thought. Not true at all. But you already know that, don't you?"
He nodded and flashed a strained smile, "One of many things I learned from my long, can't-be-understood story."
"That's a good lesson," she commented.
"It is," he said, repeating what she said not less than a minute ago.
"But, you know," she said soon after, gazing at her pictures while hugging herself. The breeze of the night slowly creeping on her skins, and she can't believe she's wearing a tank top with pants in front of Blake Jenkins. "Sometimes, a little pretending won't hurt."
He was silent for a few seconds, but then he began again, "Sometimes." Another pause, then he continued. "But then you became addicted to pretending, because, you know, how good it makes you feel. And you get reckless and something's going to go wrong, and before you know it, you're facing consequences. And you realized... it doesn't make you feel good, after all."
She stared at him, almost didn't believe it's the Blake Jenkins she's looking at, and it's the same person who came out with those sentences.
She was about to open her mouth and asked if he was okay, because by the looks of it, he wasn't- when his hand comes up and his finger points out to a picture. "Tell me about this one."
She quickly looked at the direction of his finger.
"The story behind it," he pointed out. "There must be a reason you have this hanging on the wall, right?"
She took a step forward, her eyes looking over the picture. She remembered (still remembers) her, Gia Hampton. An elderly she once interviewed for a school project. She remembered hearing her story of her true love- Timmy. Timmy and Gia met before the War, being young and unexpectedly, deeply in love. They got married, and was pregnant with their first child when Timmy was sent to war. It was devastating, and Nellie freshly remembered how she had teared-up on that spot, and that was only the beginning.
When Timmy came back home, he was damaged good. Almost came across as insane. He was never the same. But yet Gia stayed, because as she said, "Whoever he was, he was the one I fell in love with, and am still in love with." She stayed and took care of Timmy, and she said, although Timmy had changed, sometimes he came back. Sometimes he stroked her cheek and caressed her hair and looked at their son, Timmy II and told her he loves her. "But that would only last for a while," Gia continued then, smiling a bit, "But it was still nice."
They managed to get a second child though, despite all of that. A daughter this time. She was named Samantha. Grew up until nine years old before Timmy died. It was another devastating event. Sick as Timmy was, she and their children mourned very badly. When they won the war, she finally decided she needed to move one- and move on, she did. With her two children, growing up fatherless.
Now she had five grandchildren, and one great-grandchildren— and even though a lot happened, and a lot she couldn't remember, she could never forget her true love.
And that's what she told Blake. Bits by bits. Still tearing up when she ended the story.
"I'm sorry," she sniffled, going over to the table where the tissue was stationed at. "I usually don't get so emotional, but—"
"I get it," he cuts her off.
She threw him a look, and smiled a small smile when she saw his face. An understanding expression. "It's really sad, isn't it?"
"Quite depressing," he drawled, now looking over at the other pictures but his eyes are calculating, thinking. "All that I could say is, what they had was something real."
"A love's that real," she came to him again, touching the picture of Gia. "That's what everyone wants, right?"
He looked down at her— and if she mentioned she was close to Blake before, it couldn't even come to compare to when she was on the moment. They were so close, she could felt the hot breath he's breathing out, and the warmth he's radiating off. "I believe so," he whispered out slowly, his eyes gazing from her eyes and her lips. If they leaned any closer, they won't be any mistake that they're kissing each other.
Jesse would be so freaked out if he had known this.
He'd freak out so bad, he'd probably crap himself in his pants.
But then, the door knocked.
Both of them jumped practically five feet away from each other and she could have sworn her heart kinda went 'boomed' for a second there. Once she regained her breathing and calmed herself down (enough), she walked to the door, finding Jane Porter on the other side of the door once she opened it wide.
Jane Porter's eyes were so wide, it reminded her of the animated character 'Bugsy' in the movie 'Bedtime Stories' starring Adam Sandler.
Nellie wasn't stupid. Even though she didn't appear so much of a threat, she could tell Porter was very jealous about knowing the fact that 'the boring next door neighbor' was the 'Miss-Nobody-That-Got-Saved-By-a-Senior' her. She pushed herself right in, questioned Blake for a while and then ordered him to take Maxfield home that instant. It was pretty intense, if you'd ask her.
She was trying so hard to act invisible, but Porter kept eyeing her like she's some sort of a murderer.
Jenkins didn't argue too much and woke the blond up, taking him away almost quickly. If Nellie wasn't mistaken, his face looks rather relief than anything- like, there's no burden for him to carry anymore. But his eyes glanced quickly at her— and she couldn't quiet describe his look when she immediately moved her gaze away, scared of Porter on the moment.
The girl's drunk, and jealous, and has no idea who Nellie is— all of which are a deadly combination.
She stomped up at her, her brunette hair falling behind swiftly and looked at her from head to toe, "I saw, you know."
Nellie swallowed. "S-saw what?"
"How close you were. You were thinking of kissing him, didn't you?"
She's about to protest, when Porter lets out an abrupt scoffed and shook her head. "You slut."
Nellie quieted down, decided not to respond on that at all.
"Don't even lay your eyes on him next time, you get me midget?"
"But I—"
"Don't worry," she took a step back, waving her hair from falling to her chest. "I'll send a warning soon. And then, you will fully understand me."
And just like that, she's gone.
Nellie decides she doesn't want to tell anybody about it. What happened on Friday night, stays as it is.
Nellie still doesn't get what Jane Porter had meant by 'warning', but if she meant the dangerous looks and the more 'name-calling' during lunches by the football jocks and cheerios— then, Nellie certainly have gotten it.
She is smart. Even though she appreciates the 'normal' bullying most of the high school students go through— she knows she wouldn't want to cross any lines with Porter and Jenkins.
She had already got slushied, and that was horrible.
But to them, that's probably just the beginning.
Nellie visibly shivers at that thought and Blaine must have noticed it when he bends down, rising both of his bushy eyebrows, "Is there something wrong?"
She turns to him, sending him a smile. "Nah. Just remembering a not-so-nice memory."
He nods, and then comments something more about having those type of memories, about how he gets it. Glee club's practice has just finished and it has been another amazing day. The group discussed about the up-coming competition and Mr Schue's saying something about a 'showcase', and everyone's just excited. Her friendship with them has definitely grown so beautifully— especially with Blaine. They even stayed back a bit because he wanted to help her with one of her homework, so it won't get on the way later.
"Oh wait," he mutters, stopping.
They're on their way to the parking lot, and is planning to hang around at Lima bean, using her motorcycle, which Blaine is thrill to ride, even when she's riding it.
"I think I left something in the choir room. It's a gift... for my cousin. I hid it somewhere because I'm scared Brittany would take it," he explains, his eyes glistening with apologies, while she only smiles gently in return. Brittany could be vicious, she knows.
"Go," she ushers him. "I'll wait at the motorcyle."
He immediately grins widely at that, and nods, "Thanks Nell. I'll be there in a minute, I promise," and sprints away.
She pulls out her iPod and stuck her ear-bud in, listening to a few new music from Ed Sheeran she downloaded just yesterday. The song 'The A Team' comes flooding her mind and she nods her head at the rhythm, singing along to the lyrics. "White lips, pale face. Breathing in snowflakes. Burnt lungs, sour taste. Light's gone, day's end. Struggling to pay rent. Long nights, strange men," her mind faintly remembers Jenkins, but she shakes it off.
"And they say she's in the Class A Team, stuck in her daydream, been this way since 18 but lately her face seems slowly sinking, wasting—crumbling like pastries—AAAHHHH!" she screams as soon as the large impact hits her body, forcing herself on the ground. She wants to scream louder when she realizes the two large men with masks over his face, pinning her on the ground, but she's too late when one of them stuffed a clothing into her mouth; turning all of her screams into a muffled, helpless cries.
The other man laughs from behind the masks, sneaking an amusing glance at his partner, chuckling out, "You wanna scream now, sweet'eart? Scream— as loud as you can, whore."
She begins to cry, still fighting from their grasp.
"Oh, ain't that cute, eh?" The man who stuffed the clothing in her mouth laughs, pinning her still. "She's tryin' to get away from us. When will she realized she ain't ever getting away from us?"
The other man smiles sickly from behind the mask, leaning in closer to touches Nellie's face.
A tear escapes her eyelids even though she closes it shut. She tries to force her head away, away from his filthy hand but the partner's hold is stronger— and she whimpers when he finally touches her. "What a beautiful, beautiful creature. I bet...," he says admiringly sickly, "...you gon' be good."
And they laugh among them, leaving Nellie to whimper.
They're behind anyone's view now— the parking lot's empty. The only person in the building is Blaine; and when he finally comes out, she'd probably be lying on the ground, damaged and scarred; it doesn't matter then, if she's dead or alive. She cries harder— if it's anytime a 'prince charming' would come to rescue her, she desperately wants it now.
The air's a little damp now, the sky is starting to change it's color.
The men laugh, and laugh and she struggles, and they'd laugh even harder. One touches her, and she'd try to shove it away, but he still touches her anyway. The other man leans down and inhales her, and she breaks down and cries even more.
"Please," she muffles, closing her eyes tight, still struggling. "Someone."
"Are you ready, bitch? We gon' make you feel so damn goo—"
"HEY!"
All of them looks up.
"HEY! GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU SCUMBAGS!"
Nellie chocks up, still crying and sniffling. Blake. Blake Jenkins.
"Dude, that's him!" one of the men cries out, panic.
"Shit, we have to get away. We're dead if anyone finds out."
And they scram away, just like that.
Nellie drops her shoulders down, her eyes accidentally falls on her iPod, lying down before her, broke; and clearly reminds her of how it happened. She cries harder, her whole body shakes. She takes the clothing out and throws it away, quickly backing from it— the reminder of it pains and disgusts her deeply. She hugs her knees and cries into it, rocking her body from back and forth.
His footsteps come closer.
"Don't," she demands, through her sobs.
He stops.
She continues to rock herself but slowly regains her thoughts, the calm ones, the ones that assures her everything is going to be fine.
He sighs, "Are you okay?"
She gazes at him, "Will it happen again to me?"
He doesn't break their staring- in fact, he cocks her chin up in a snobbish manner, but his eyes are determined to look through hers more than ever. He shakes his head slowly, "I won't let it."
She wipes her tears, her heart still weighs heavily. "I don't believe you."
"Then please do," he spats back, but doesn't make another move. " 'Cause I'm promising you that."
She stares back at him, swallowing.
"OH MY GOD, NELLIE!" Blaine comes, his eyes alert. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"
He comes by her side before she could even register what is happening- he holds her, and she actually feels herself relaxes in his grasp. His touches are warm and comfortable and safe, so she lets her head falls slightly on his chest. "You scrapped your knees open. Oh god. You're bleeding," Blaine gushes, worried laces his voice. She doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn't want to talk about it.
She could feel the way Blaine glares at Jenkins, and he hisses, "What happened?"
"No," her hands stops him. "It's not his fault."
"Then, what really happened, Nellie?" Blaine sounds defeated, rocking her softly.
"I don't want to talk about it." She replies, burying deep into Blaine's chest.
There's a pause for a while, but she hears Jenkins mutters, "Take care of her well."
Blaine might or might not nods his head, she isn't sure. But she is sure Blake Jenkins walks away right after that, leaving her and Blaine all alone, while her iPod plays the song faintly and brokenly behind, clawing her with each lyrics being said—
"...for angels to fly, to fly, to fly or angels to die..."
I know. I'm sorry— I wrote the warning, didn't I? Almost rape scene. Ugh. I feel terrible writing it- the emotions. It must be terrifying. Let's take a moment and appreciate those who are strong enough and dealt with it bravely. I respect you. We can't do what's been undone, but the point is, you're able to move on. You are strong. I just, I am- the feels, you know?
Okay, anyways, these are a few of awesome Blellie stories I recommend you to check it out, 'cause it really is awesome and the authors are amazing and yeah, check it out if you have time; The Château by Saab08. Fight This Feeling by nellieblake. Until next time, goodbye!