Underrated doesn't even begin to describe this girl. In my time working for this magazine, I've gotten to meet a lot of really interesting people over the years, but when I met Marcelina Crevan, I fell in love almost instantly. In my defense, she makes it really hard not to. For those who have ever met her, you understand.
When I first met Marcelina, I saw her at a nightclub in the heart of Manhattan up on stage performing Vivaldi's Winter. Only it wasn't just Vivaldi's Winter. Marcelina made a beautiful dubstep baby with Vivaldi's Winter. I know it sounds weird, but trust me. If anyone can kill it and revive it bigger and better than ever, it's her.
I had the honor and privilige of sitting down with Marcelina just to talk. To be honest, it felt like sitting down with an old friend and picking up right where we left off. That might just be my own deja vu, but she is such a genuine soul. I look forward to the day when I can do this again.
And then, I hit a wall. Dammit. Come on. You're a better journalist than this. Oh no...Oh no...The first stage of my writer's block has already set in. I stared aimlessly into my computer screen, hoping to God something would pop out at me. Nothing. My mind was a blank slate. My forehead collided with my desktop into my pile of notes and I just wanted to scream out into the abyss. Do I want to go into her personal life or do I want to go into her professional life? I could go either way. Or I could open my twelvth story window and jump to the busy streets of New York.
Nope. We're going to move on to stage three. I threw myself into my futon and wallowed in self-pity, losing myself in the ceiling tiles. Rumor has it, I had a pair of shoes under one of those tiles from the Christmas party two years ago. I never felt the need to investigate it, though. This article's going to be the death of me. I just had to use work as an excuse to hang out with Marcelina, didn't I?
"Hey, Lumi," Marie stuck her head in my office.
"What?" I grumbled into a throw pillow.
"Jesus," she cringed, "Are you ok?"
"Peachy...What do you want, Marie?"
"You have a visitor here," Marie told me, "You want me to send them in?"
"That's fine," I allowed.
"Is there a problem, Ms. Olivier?" a warm, soothing English accent brought me down a little from my anxious tirade.
"I need aspirin," I groaned, not even moving, "Top drawer of my desk, if you could, please."
"Of course," Sebastian rifled around in my desk drawer and got my aspirin bottle. I felt him sit on the edge of my futon and gave me the two blue tablets that would put me out of my misery...or at least the misery of this god awful headache, "Are you alright?"
"Writer's block," I sat up, swallowing my aspirin, "This article on Marcelina's killing me."
"And what seems to be the problem?" he asked, genuinely concerned for my well-being.
"It's up on my computer," I offered, curling back up into the pillows, "You're more than welcome to give it a look."
"I couldn't possibly do that," Sebastian blushed.
"Go ahead," I insisted, "Maybe a fresh perspective can knock something loose."
"Alright then," he sat at my desk and skimmed what I had of my article, "I'm no journalist, but perhaps you could go at it from a different angle."
"Like telling the story of how she met my landlord," I teased.
"And how did Marcelina say we met?"
"Not much," I shrugged, "She said you two met in London on her birthday."
Sebastian chuckled a bit to himself, "She always did have a cheeky sense of humor, didn't she?"
Hold on...Marcelina also told me about her parents, too, "And she told me about how her parents met at a party."
"Did she?"
"She was drugged," I repeated, "And her father saved her. You've told me the same story, Sebastian. Didn't you save a woman at a party after being drugged?"
Sebastian's face looked perfectly calm, but his eyes told me a different tale. There was a little bit of fear in those eyes, "It was a rampant problem in London at one time. Marcelina's told me the same story. Such a shame that another had fallen victim."
"It's almost like another Jack the Ripper," I thought out loud, "How sad."
"Here," Sebastian typed at my computer at near lightning speeds.
"What are you doing?" he piqued my interest.
"And..." he stopped, "Done. Now, you have no need to stress, Ms. Olivier. Your article is finished."
"Sebastian," I gasped, "You can't do that."
"I just did," he hushed, "Go ahead. Use that for your article. It's everything than anyone would want to know about Marcelina in a little under three thousand words."
"So, what?" I wondered, "I credit you as my ghost writer?"
"No credit needed," Sebastian assured, joining me on the futon again, "Really. It's fine."
"Sebastian," I wasn't sure what I was going to do with him, but I started with a very grateful hug, "Thank you. You're an absolute angel."
"An angel?" he giggled, "No. Trust me. I'm no angel."
"I have to do something," I begged, "How could I ever repay you for that?"
"I don't know," Sebastian traced his finger down my jawline, "We do have a futon in here. Maybe sexual favors?"
"Seriously?" I freaked a little. Not that I'd be opposed to the idea. Sebastian was gorgeous. But right here in the office? Don't get me wrong. The exhibitionist in me would be thrilled, but the last thing I needed was for Marie to walk in on that and scar her for life. Or, heaven forbid, Regina! She'd probably be standing there with the video camera. I don't need that kind of therapy either.
"Forgive me," Sebastian came clean, "I'm far from being a saint, but I am more of a gentleman than that."
"Good," I let out a sigh of relief. As much as a night with Sebastian would probably prove to be legendary, I hardly knew the man.
"How about another date instead?" he suggested, a glint in his eye, "Are you busy this weekend?"
I thought it over for a minute or two. What did I have to do this weekend? I had a mountain of laundry in the corner of my bedroom. My dishwasher was full. My fridge was damn near empty. But the thought of turning Sebastian down almost felt sacrilegious, "No. I'm not busy. What did you have in mind?"
"Come away with me," he took my hands, "I'm going to London for the weekend and I never was too keen on the thought of flying alone."
"London?" my heart sunk to my feet. Why the hell would he ask me to London? And what would that mean for us? Was he thinking of this as just a casual trip or something more? Sebastian didn't strike me as the serial killer type, but he did come off very crafty. Like he could kill a man and make it look like he had nothing to do with it.
Then again…At the same time, Sebastian felt so warm and made me feel so safe. So comfortable. Like he wanted to put me in bubble wrap. I don't know why Sebastian took such a special interest in me and quite frankly, I don't care. I've heard the word soulmate thrown around so much in my line of work, but always so emptily. Maybe it's too soon to tell…or I'm so desperate that I'm willing to throw myself at any man who smiles at me…But something felt different about Sebastian from the day I met him. Granted, he had just let himself into my apartment and that's not necessarily something someone does when they're the pinnacle of sanity, but that's here nor there.
"I promise you that I'm not mental." And he had a weird habit of being in my head, "I'm not going to kill you in your sleep. I'm not going to abandon you in London. Please, Lumi. Come away with me. It's only for the weekend."
"Ok," I nodded, "You did finish my article for me. It's the least I can do. It's been a while since I was last in London and I'd love to see the Trancy mansion again."
"Oh, trust me, my dear," Sebastian promised, "I can show you one much better that will make the Trancy estate look like a dilapidated shack for lost, little spiders. Is Friday morning good for you?"
"I'm sure I can smooth talk my way to a day off," I smiled, "I'll see you then."
"You sure will," Sebastian kissed the back of my hand, "Until then…"
The heat in my face was hotter than the flames of Hell. I hated that Sebastian had this kind of effect on me, but I loved it all the same. I wasn't sure why I loved it, but it was like instinct. Maybe he and I were bound by some weird twist of fate. Maybe it was something else entirely. All I knew was that I was going to be on a transatlantic flight with him Friday morning. But first I needed to talk to the boss. And as dirty and underhanded as this was going to be, I grabbed Sebastian's hand before he could get into the elevator. Let's just call this insurance, "Wait!"
"Yes?" he gave me a look, confused as to what the hell I was doing.
"I need you to do me a solid," I asked, "Come with me to see Regina."
"Why do I need to see your boss?" Sebastian wondered.
"On the off change that my smooth talk doesn't work," I bit my lip, "If mine doesn't, I know yours will."
"Alright," he allowed, "Where is her office?"
"Right here," I dragged Sebastian into the cougar den, "Stay. I'll tap you in if I need to."
"Ok."
Knock, knock.
"Hey, Regina," I sang, "Got a minute?"
"What is it, sweetie?" the boss grumbled, "I'm in a mood."
"What happened?" I asked, trying to come off concerned.
"I tried Tinder last night," Regina vented, "And no such luck. I started talking with a guy and he stood me up."
"What an ass," I took her side, "Don't worry, boss. There's somebody for everybody. You'll find husband number four one day."
"Thanks, Lumi," my off-color remark didn't even faze her. Regina really was dead inside.
"I couldn't have said it better myself." Funny. I don't remember tapping him in.
"Hello," Regina's mood instantly turned around, "Can I help you?"
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Alvarez," Sebastian bowed to her, "My name is Sebastian Michaelis. I'm your new photographer. But I don't start until Monday."
"I don't remember bringing on a new photographer," Regina undid her top button on her blouse. Not even as a joke, sister, "But welcome aboard, Sebastian. Did you need something?"
"I thought I'd introduce myself," he charmed her with a devilish little smirk, "And my sincerest apologies about your Tinder incident. Ms. Olivier's beautiful words of wisdom were right, though. I have no doubt that such a striking woman in the prime of her life will find someone."
"Oh, I like you…" Regina blushed.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," Sebastian shot her a wink, really sealing the deal, "I have work to do."
"Bye," she swooned as Sebastian stepped out of her office. And of course, to no surprise, Regina hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave, "Whoever thought hiring him deserves a raise."
"It was actually my idea," I took the credit. And the raise.
"Bless you, Lumi," Regina hugged me tight, "I think he was coming onto me."
"Maybe," I cringed internally. Sebastian wasn't coming onto her. That was Sebastian being a little manipulative for my sake. And now, to put the nail in the coffin.
"You wanted something from me, didn't you, sweetie?" she came back around, "Anything. For bringing that piece of eye candy into the office, I would give you the world. What do you need?"
"If I could have Friday off," I requested, "That'd be cool."
"Is your article done?"
I felt bad about using someone else's work and claiming it as my own, but I wasn't going to look this gift horse in the mouth, "Yep. Ready to print."
"Alright," Regina nodded, sliding back into her chair, "That's fine. Enjoy your weekend, honey."
"Thank you!" I chirped, "And keep your head up. Try another Tinder date."
"I think I will," she thought for a minute, "Do you think Sebastian's on Tinder?"
"Doubtful," I bit my tongue and left. Sure enough, Sebastian had yet to leave the building, "So, you're working here now?"
"I can work my way into the system and make it look like I'm a new employee," he assured, "No need to worry, Ms. Olivier. I use my computer hacking skills for good, not evil."
"Do you not have anything else you do?" I asked, immediately thinking I've overstepped my bounds here.
"I've been doing some research for the past few months," Sebastian told me, not even taking it as bad as I thought he would, "But that can be put on hold for now. Would you care to share a town car back home?"
"I'd love to," I joined him in the elevator and the two of us headed home. I had packing to do and an apartment to put in line. As much as I wanted to hang out with him some more, I was going to spend the entire weekend with him in a foreign country. I'm sure I could wait that long.
Thursday night, all I could do was stare at the ceiling. We had a six o'clock flight tomorrow morning…Strike that. In four hours. London…I missed London. I missed the Trancy estate. Such a beautiful piece of architecture and it's left to no one. If I could, I'd take it and restore it. Unfortunately, Regina doesn't pay me enough to have another house in London. Maybe one day, though. And Sebastian did promise me he'd show me somewhere even better than the Trancy estate. If it can make me swoon like that, I may have to take him up on that sexual favor offer.
Creeeeak.
"Ms. Olivier," a soft voice whispered in my ear, "It's time to wake up. I know you don't want to, but we have a flight to board in an hour."
"Ok," I rubbed my eyes, not even thinking twice. I trusted him. He's not going to think about doing anything. I had my heels under my bed. Right next to my three, steel baseball bats I duct taped together. What? I'm a single girl living in New York and I don't like guns. I need something for home protection.
I wasn't even close to being awake, but when I finally came to, I was already showered, dressed, and sitting on the plane. Did I just zombie my way through that? Probably. There's no way Sebastian would've done that. Although I trusted him not to try anything, I doubt he'd do something like bathing me and dressing me like I was a three-year-old.
"Sebastian," I asked, "Why are we going to London?"
"It's been quite some time since I've been there," he did the math in his head, "And it is home. Where was the last place you went?"
"Boston," I told him, "That's my home. How I ended up in New York, I have no clue. I've been feeling kind of mixed up in my head lately. But I was born in Boston. I know that much."
"Why don't you get some rest?" Sebastian put his arm around me and like a reflex, I cuddled into his ribcage, "I'll wake you when we land."
"Ok," I rested my head on his chest and shut my eyes for maybe a few seconds before I was completely under. And for the first time in what felt like months, I have never slept so soundly, so solidly. Sebastian was a narcotic and he felt amazing in my veins. No weird nightmares. No waking up feeling like there's someone in the house. Just us. And everything was ok.
"Ms. Olivier," Sebastian jostled me, "We're here."
I looked out the window and saw the clouds fade away as we landed. Yep. Back in England. In a strange way, this felt like coming home, too. Something about London felt the same way Sebastian did. Like…It was right. Like this was where I was meant to be. I've never had something tug at my heart quite like this. There was a bit of mysticism in the London fog. And I loved it.
"Now then," Sebastian grabbed our bags, "I have a house here as well. Would you like to go there and rest for a bit longer?"
"No," I shook my head, "I'll just go back to sleep and I don't want to do that."
"Alright then," he took my hand, "Could I take you somewhere very special?"
"Please do."
Sebastian and I got into a cab and headed out of town. Weird. We just get to London and now we're leaving? Ok. I'll trust his judgment. I might not know where we're going, but I know Sebastian isn't going to kill me and scatter my body to the winds. He comes off far too protective for something like that.
The cab stopped outside of the most beautiful abandoned mansion I've ever seen in my life. Screw the Trancy estate. This toppled that. By far. This was incredible. Was this the place Sebastian was telling me about? It had to be. Without even thinking, I wrapped my arms around his waist, "I love it."
"Welcome to Phantomhive Manor," Sebastian bowed to me.
"Do you know anything about who lived here?" I asked, wandering around inside.
"What would you like to know?" he sat on the stairs. It's amazing. This place looks like it's been perfectly preserved. Someone must come in here and take care of it.
"Start at the beginning," I joined him, still in complete awe of this place.
"My pleasure," Sebastian began, "It was the last quarter of the nineteenth century when the true story of the Phantomhive family begins. Lord Vincent had the title of Her Majesty Queen Victoria's guard dog, a title that has been passed through the Phantomhive family for generations. Let's call them the police of England's criminal underworld. Queen Victoria didn't always deal in the most legal manner, so whenever something went wrong, Lord Vincent would be the one to take care of it. However, this isn't the original Phantomhive Manor."
"What happened to the original?" I got more and more sucked into the story.
"It burned," he went on, "Along with Lord Vincent and Lady Rachel. They were targeted by a religious cult that saw them as impure. Unfortunate event. Although, there was another in that house fire that was supposed to die alongside them."
"Who's that?"
"Their eight-year-old son Ciel," Sebastian smiled, "Once he returned after a very long, treacherous few years, the young lord became head of the Phantomhive family, vowing to get vengeance on who murdered his parents. Even willing to sell his soul for something like that. Or so I imagine."
"He was just a kid," I awed, a tear coming to my eye, "I can't even imagine the kind of hell he went through. And to be all by himself in a house like this."
"He wasn't alone," he assured, "There was the house staff, his butler, his wife in his later years. He and Lady Elizabeth had a son to carry on the burden of the Phantomhive family. And they've been serving the royals ever since."
"How do you know all of this, Sebastian?" I rested my head on his shoulder.
"English nobles have always been a special interest of mine," Sebastian snaked his arm around me, "You seem tired, Ms. Olivier. We should be getting back to the house."
"Where's that?"
"Not too far from here," he pulled me onto my feet, "Are you up for the walk?"
"We can walk?" I chirped, "Yeah. I'm fine."
And the two of us headed down the road a quarter mile to another gorgeous house. This one looked like a renovated cathedral. This was Sebastian's house here? Sweet Jesus. It's like he shrank Phantomhive Manor and moved it over here. Inside wasn't much different. Only the color palette in here was a little richer than what it was in Phantomhive Manor. Up the stairs were only two bedrooms. Perfect. One for me, one for Sebastian?
"I'm guessing I'll take this one?" I threw my bag on the bed.
"Not staying in my room?" Sebastian asked, almost insulted.
"Um…"
"I understand," he let me go, "I'm really not expecting anything like that while we're here. This is a simple reconnaissance mission."
"For what?" I climbed into my bed for the weekend.
"Scouting some new property," Sebastian sat at the edge, "They're more likely to sell to a couple. I'm sorry for slightly using you."
"Use me as you see fit," I immediately regretted that, "That sounded a lot better in my head. You know what I mean. I can be your wife as far as the real estate agents are concerned."
"Yes," he giggled, "I understand. Well then, good night, Mrs. Michaelis."
"Good night," I made myself a little more comfortable, melting over Sebastian calling me Mrs. Michaelis. I liked it. Lumi Michaelis. It has a ring to it. My god, I sound like a horny school girl writing it in the back of my notebook. Mrs. Michaelis…Dr. Michaelis. Dr. Michaelis sounded sexy. I could see Sebastian being a doctor. Not me, though. I'm too squeamish. But I could play Sebastian's wife while we're here.
A/N: Hi, guys! So…A little trip to London. Because why not? London can always have a little bit of excitement. Especially with those two. Now, unfortunately, I'm taking a quickie hiatus. I'm going on vacation for a couple weeks. I will be back soon, though. Probably the beginning of June. Until then, you guys are going to have to hang it there. HOWEVER! If you were around last year, you're familiar with the concept of BOMB WEEK. If you're not or you don't remember, let me refresh your memory. I write one story for the week for the entire week. Meaning Monday through Friday, you good people would be getting an entire week of updates for this. But there would be a big gap hiatus after that. When I come back in June, I'm going to be bringing bomb week back! It went over really well last year, so I thought let's do it again! And because this one goes up on a Monday, I'm going to be starting with an entire week of Her Butler, One Last Time! Yaaaaay! See you next chapter! xx
