Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the Labyrinth.
AN: Wow. I asked for reviews and you guys didn't disappoint! Loved the detailed reviews. The rest of you lurkers *eyes suspiciously* what do you think?
Chapter 6: Insecurity and Human Psychology
(At Vendetta…)
"Enough of the bullshit, what are you, really?" Sanjay asks the platinum blond sitting across from him. A platter of assorted wasabi and lemongrass infused canapes sits on the table, untouched. He thinks molecular gastronomy is overrated. "And you," the dark haired man turns his attention to his junior, "need to come up with better lies. Jareth King is not even a Norwegian name."
Raising an amused brow, the Goblin King looks at Sarah before turning his attention to her boss. "You would not care to know." There's a mild threat that laces his words, "The consequences of knowing more about me are rather…dire."
"He's joking," Sarah cuts in, her tone sharp. "He's just unemployed and likes to make up ridiculously unbelievable professions." Now that's a fucking brilliant lie and she's relieved when her boss looks like he buys it.
Sanjay signals a waiter. "Another bottle of the Bordeaux, red." He'd normally be fucking annoyed that some idiot chef thought pairing a Bordeaux with molecular fusion French, Sichuan, Japanese, and Southern Thai cuisine was a great idea, but he's a little too tipsy to care at the moment.
"Um…" she begins, a little concerned, "Everything okay with you and Michael?"
The Goblin King sits quietly, assessing the human's reactions.
"I've stopped asking our friends to accompany me when he cancels because they keep asking the same thing, so don't," Sanjay replies, sipping the wine. "In any case," he says, eyeing Jareth curiously, "I'm concerned about you."
She rolls her eyes. "Fine, he's not my model, but he is helping me with this book. The scenes from the Labyrinth? Castle? All his ideas."
Her boss looks at the Goblin King with renewed interest. "We have an illustrator who could use some inspiration for a children's book, would you be interested?"
The Goblin King smiles a vicious smile. "Very much so." His voice is positively gleeful.
"No. Absolutely not," she says quickly, trying to think on her feet. "He's on a tourist visa. It's illegal for him to work here at the moment."
"I'd volunteer without any monetary compensation," Jareth offers, "out of the kindness of my heart."
She chokes. Kindness of his heart indeed. She realizes that she has to change the subject, and she has to do so quickly. "Jareth here disagrees with you about the Goblin King, by the way. He doesn't think that an all-powerful king is stupid enough to fall for an annoying, loserific, borderline unattractive virgin with no personality." Heh, His Arrogantness probably couldn't resist taking this bait, she muses.
She's right. A small, delicate frown graces the Goblin King's forehead.
Sanjay shrugs casually. "Unless Jareth has spent an adequate time doing qual and quan research on New Adult readership, his opinions are rather pointless aren't they?"
Sucking in a deep breath, she prays that Jareth doesn't turn her boss into a toad or something equally slimy. Fortunately, he only sits there and smiles, his sharp teeth hidden.
"Sanjay," Jareth says, pronouncing the name perfectly. "I am a touch curious as to why this Goblin King of Sarah's," he smiles slyly at her as he says this, "is fool enough to-"
"Let me interrupt you before you go any further," Sanj cuts in, "The purpose of the Goblin King, or any male figure in New Adult, is to be physically attractive and obsessed with the protagonist. He's a man who is enormously, and I use that word both literally and figuratively, attracted to the protagonist regardless of how unattractive, dull, unremarkable, and insecure she is."
The Goblin King remains quiet, but Sarah let's out a scoff. "But why is the protagonist insecure to the point of having Borderline Personality Disorder…that bugs me even more than the virgin part." After three and a half glasses of wine, she's a little tipsy as well. "Every five minutes, she's all 'I'm so ugly, and the women you bang are so gorgeous' and he's supposed to reassure her that she's amazing by fucking her into oblivion…if I was the Goblin King, I'd tell her to 'shut the fuck up' after the first few times."
"Would you?" Jareth's lips curl amusedly as he tilts his head and reads her. "To use your crude words, perhaps fucking her into oblivion is the Goblin King's way of telling her to shut the fuck up."
She glares at him and continues, "Same fucking issue with that stupid Sea Cove Lighthouse book I edited in the afternoon. If the protagonist is so psychotically insecure about her looks, she could just join the gym and head to the salon for a makeover. Life isn't so fucking difficult."
"Sarah," her boss cuts in before she begins another rant, "I never want to hear the words 'but why' from you again. And this may come as a surprise to you, but life is fucking difficult for most—what do you think the average household income is for a family of four, in this divine country of yours?"
She shrugs, having no idea. "Lit major here, Sanj. Not stats."
"Somewhere around 52 K per year," he says, smiling as she stares at him incredulously. "Your father is a well-established corporate lawyer and your stepmother is an experienced OB-GYN—they were able to fund your education in one of the most expensive universities in the country." He pauses and appraises her appearance, "And darling, you're tall, thin, and fucking gorgeous. I'm going to go ahead and assume that your experiences are not remotely similar to the average Bessie May's. It's only fair that you stop judging these fantasies because if you hadn't won the genetic lottery, you too may have been born in the middle of nowhere, in a family with an average income, and your life would have been utterly unremarkable in every way—and then, perhaps, you would understand the protagonist's insecurities."
She stares at her plate of duck confit dumplings with cherry anglaise, a bit humbled.
"Insecurity is a most interesting human emotion," the Goblin King's dulcet voice interrupts the silence and a chill runs down her spine. "It makes humans wish rather ardently." His voice is tinged with malicious hunger...as if he's thinking about various ways to use this knowledge to his advantage.
For the first time, she wonders whether it is smart, on her part, to expose the Goblin King to the human world.
"Your Norwegian model is correct, Sarah," her boss agrees, not noticing her sudden unease, "Everybody gets insecure. New Adult only exaggerates that particular emotion, experience more like." He bites into the dumpling, surprised when it tastes delicious. "I'm fucking insecure—my fiancé seems hell bent on working himself to death and my relationship is nonexistent."
She doesn't quite know what to say to that. Fortunately, she doesn't have to say anything.
"Your fiancé has been fucking stupid lately." A light brown haired man dressed in a crisp slate gray suit says this as he gives Sanjay a kiss and sits down next to him. "Hello Sarah—is he paying you overtime for this?" He notices the Goblin King and raises a brow before extending a hand, "Michael Kauffman."
"Jareth King."
Sarah grins as her boss rolls his eyes. "Sanj, doesn't believe in getting paid extra for overtime. He's quite capitalistic that way."
"How's the Nazi book going?" Michael asks. "Another bottle and glass, please," he says to the waiter before turning his attention back to Sarah.
She raises her brows. "What?"
Michael laughs. "I overheard the 'no Sanjay Arora's in your world' conversation," he grins, "definitely no Michael Kauffman's there." He turns to Jareth, "only people who look like you I suppose."
Jareth raises a brow and smiles slowly. "People who look like me."
Sarah takes this as her cue to leave. She's definitely glad Michael had the good sense to join them—those two belong together. "We are going to leave you two alone," she says, tugging Jareth's arm to cue him. "Let me know how much I owe you for the wine," she says. The tasting menu is complimentary but the alcohol isn't.
Sanjay waves her off, "think of it as overtime payment."
"It is taken care of." Jareth's voice cuts sharply through the exchange as he hands over a wad of cash to the waiter, "I take it that will suffice for anything else these gentlemen order? You may keep the rest." The waiter only nods disbelievingly before ushering him to the front of the restaurant.
Brows furrowing, Sanjay eyes her suspiciously, "an unemployed model from a remote fishing village in Norway with a few thousand dollars in his pocket. Sarah, what the fuck is going on? The only people who carry that kind of cash are in the mafia."
"Erm…he's a really rich unemployed model who hates credit cards?" she offers, hell why not. "Some people are just born rich," she looks at him pointedly, "Mr. Steel baron's grandson." She's glad when he doesn't argue, "Anyway, I'll start working from seven as usual."
"You'll have instructions in your inbox at six." He waves.
(Somewhere in a bar close to Sarah's apartment...)
"Where did you get all that money from anyway," she asks, a slight lag in her voice. She's only a drink or two away from crossing the line between tipsy and drunk. Being old enough to have experienced a few alcohol related disasters, she asks for a large bottle of water. Surprisingly, she has enjoyed spending time with the Goblin King…but she's also smart enough not to get drunk with him. The bastard looks perfectly composed for someone who's had as much.
"Magic, precious creature."
Creature?! She huffs before turning serious. "Jareth…you're not here to cause any harm are you?"
Looking into her wide, jade eyes, he bites back an acerbic retort. Instead, he says, his voice low, "I'd never harm you."
It doesn't escape her that he emphasizes 'you.' "I would never forgive myself if you caused someone else harm because of a casual wish I made." She is absolutely serious, "Especially Marc."
His penetrating gaze is unreadable. "Fear not, my sweet," his voice is lower still, "I will not harm your precious Marc."
"Great," she says with a sigh of relief, getting up from her seat. "I've already paid the bill," she says with a wink when he takes out his magical money, "Apple Pay." She laughs upon seeing his confused expression, wondering if he thinks she's paid the bill with apples.
"Explain."
"Electronic wallet type thing," she says, holding up her phone. "I'll go home now. Early morning tomorrow."
"Then I am greatly indebted to you, precious." His eyes glitter victoriously when he realizes she does not understand the implications of the debt. "Would you?" he says, holding out his arm, smiling as takes it without question.
Next morning…
She cuts up some mushrooms and fresh chives and whips up some eggs, before pouring the mixture into a frittata dish. Easiest breakfast ever, she thinks. Of course, she doesn't think about why she's making breakfast for two.
"I don't understand how you can drink four glasses of wine plus two large scotches, and not get a hangover," her roommate half questions, half complains. "And I don't understand why Mr. Model isn't in your room with you."
Sarah gives her a look. "Because there's nothing going on between us."
"Sarah," Elle says, flipping her hair and fluffing it for volume, "I'm not stupid—I know he's not your model."
Holding her head in her hands, Sarah sighs. Sanjay is right, she needs to be a better liar. "It's complicated," is all she offers, "I don't want to make this situation weirder than it already is."
Elle stares at her, wide eyed. "Whatever's going on between the two of you, I definitely think the situation's going to get weirder than ever. Especially with Marc involved."
"Fuck." Sarah knows her roommate is correct. "I was thinking of getting serious with Marc…but now…" she lets that drift off. Taking a large gulp of her coffee, she pushes the thought to the back of her mind. She's got a full day of work ahead and cannot afford to be bogged down by her personal life.
"Sarah, but now WHAT?"
Sarah growls. It seems like she can't escape her personal life until Elle leaves for work. "Speaking of Marc, he got us some cupcakes yesterday," she says, strategizing to change the subject.
It works.
"I need to thank him for carrying me into the taxi," Elle ponders aloud. "I didn't say anything rude to him, did I?"
Grinning, Sarah replies, "You told him to stop playing the poverty Olympics."
Elle turns red.
"You also said he wears old man suits when he should wear Italian slim fits."
Elle turns redder still.
"And that you really like his hair."
"OH MY GOD." Elle's turns the shade of a ripe cherry. "I'm NOT drinking again," she declares, "…for a month." Looking utterly embarrassed, she heads out. "I'll apologize."
Laughing softly, Sarah shakes her head. "He said it was one of the funniest conversations he's had in a while," she says, waving goodbye and setting up her tiny kitchen table for a breakfast for two.
(Thirty seconds after Elle leaves…)
"You were expecting me." The Goblin King's rich baritone reverberates around the tiny apartment.
She jumps and splashes some orange juice on herself. Curse Jareth and his ability to pop up out of nowhere.
"Yes," she says, turning to look at him. He wears midnight blue trousers with a crisp, white shirt. Just how does the bastard look so put together this early in the morning, anyway?
He smiles at her wolfishly before sitting down, his eyes gleam in delight. "Perfect. I'm absolutely famished."
AN—So there's a little insight into the boss and his fiancé. And Sarah gets a privilege check.
And I got to address the 'I'm so ugly and all of your exes are soooooooooooo beautiful' woes that lots of fanfic!Sarahs and pretty much all New Adult heroines have. I always think 'dude, just freaking listen to James Blunt and get over it already.'