A/N: As promised, the drama begins!
Disclaimer: You know, the usual.
The parade across a stage, as far as Raye was concerned, wasn't really that important. She wore a cap and gown with a gold cord to signify that she was on the honour roll, shook hands with the principal and the superintendent, and received her diploma, right after Kevin and right before Brandon Hearn. She was just taking her seat back in the audience next to Kevin when she noticed her friend glancing into the back section of the auditorium where the family members were sitting, with a frown on his face. She knew that her father was there; there was bound to be talk if Senator Harcourt did not take time out to attend his only daughter's high school graduation. The senator was sitting next to her grandfather, but she had thus far managed not to look at him at all, and wondered what it was that Kevin kept looking at.
"Yeah, he's here, you know he had to be here," she hissed, giving Kevin a light jab in the side. "He's probably pretending to be Gramps' best friend too, the flaming hypocrite. What are you staring at? I told you that he'd be here."
"I know," Kevin said slowly. "I figured as much. But there's another guy there, I've never seen him before. Blond, kind of preppy-looking, mid-twenties, I think. He's staring at you."
"I don't know of anyone who has any reason to stare at me aside from the usual," Raye scoffed. "Maybe he's with some other group."
"No, he's definitely staring at you. And he just turned to say something to your father. They seem to know each other," Kevin murmured. "Seriously, you need to take a look. I think his tie probably costs more than a lot of people earn in a week."
Raye took one quick, fleeting glance, and then felt as though every nerve in her body was shutting down and shrinking away in defense. With a concerted effort, she raised her chin, her face completely expressionless and cold, and clenched her hands into fists over her diploma. She had not seen him in years, and it did not sit well with her that he'd be here now. How dare he come?
She felt a warm, wide-palmed hand over her wrist, and in her peripheral vision, she saw Kevin looking at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. "What? Who is it?"
"No one," Raye said between clenched teeth. "No one important. Less than important. Don't look at him again."
"Then why is he staring at you? What's his name?" Kevin persisted.
"Kaidou." Raye spat the word out as though it were venomous, and for the rest of the ceremony, until Melinda Zimmerman went on-stage to receive her diploma, she sat still and cold as an ice statue, eyes fixed straight ahead as demons that she thought were long buried deep within resurfaced.
To prolong the inevitable, Raye made a point to talk to as many of her fellow high school graduates after the ceremony as possible, flitting from one acquaintance to another and rehashing meaningless, trivial experiences. That her father and Kaidou had a reason for making this special appearance she had no doubt, but she wasn't interested in the reason, and would have preferred not seeing them at all.
Raye was in the middle of a half-hearted snark-fest about one of the teachers when the aristocratic, unmistakable sound of her father clearing his throat came nearby, and she all but felt his shadow fall on her back, which straightened in defensive response. Senator Harcourt, a tall, dignified man with perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair and a hearty smile that didn't usually reach his eyes, clapped a heavy hand on her shoulder, and she had to steel herself not to shrug it off.
"Dad," she greeted him curtly, holding her diploma like a shield in front of her chest as her classmate discreetly backed away. She would have ignored the younger man next to her father altogether, except for the fact that, as always, Richard Kaidou IV finagled her attention towards him.
"Rachael," he greeted her, using a name that she'd heard so rarely in the last three years that she almost didn't recognize it as her own. The usual charming politician's-protege smile graced his handsome, polished features and he held out both hands. "Congratulations. You have grown up to be quite the fine young woman."
"Thanks," Raye said flatly, not making any movements to take his hands, keeping her gaze fixed at a point somewhere in between both men's shoulders. "Also, I prefer to go by 'Raye'."
"Raye, then," Kaidou, whom she'd always called by his surname because it was how her father addressed his staff and when she met him as an impressionable girl of eight, she didn't know better, smiled warmly. "It's been a while since I've seen you. I do think you've grown an inch or two."
That he could be so crass as to bring THAT up, and so blase as to refer to their last meeting as though he were discussing the weather, sent Raye's fingers clenching around her diploma. With two deep breaths, she forced herself to shrug. "I suppose it's possible." Violet eyes skipped across faces in the crowded auditorium in search of her grandfather, or Kevin, or anyone, really, but no one was close enough. "What brings you here?"
"That's a very rude question to ask," Raye's father told her reprovingly. "You and Kaidou have always been such close friends, it seemed only fair that I invite him to your graduation. Besides..." And here, Senator Harcourt's face showed an approximation of a satisfied smile. "I believe he wanted to tell you his good news himself."
As far as Raye was concerned, there was no possible good news that she would have wanted to hear from this particular individual, unless it involved Kaidou giving up all his worldly belongings, shaving his head and moving to Tibet to live as a Buddhist monk. Lips thinned, she turned her face a quarter of an inch towards Kaidou and silently waited for the axe to fall.
"Well, it's really simple," Kaidou smiled, and reached out to touch her shoulder, his fingers warm and smooth and pampered. "Marguerite and I getting married in the middle of this summer, and we'd like for you to be one of the bridesmaids. Maid of honour, actually."
Raye's diploma slipped out of nerveless fingers and fell to the ground as she stared at him in shock. With a little tut, he stooped and picked it up, then dusted it off with a flourish and handed it back to her. "It's not going to be a gaudy, elaborate ceremony, don't you worry. Maybe you heard of the engagement, saw a notice in the newspaper."
"I don't read the society pages," Raye said in a clipped voice. "And I'm going to be busy this summer. I'll be starting at Columbia in the fall and don't have time to play wedding dress-up."
"It won't be any trouble, and really, when Marguerite talked to the Lifestyle reporter for the Journal, she already gave out your name as the maid of honour. She's really dying to meet you," Kaidou told her patiently and smoothly, and Raye bit back a curse. There was too much bad blood, too many thorny issues, and he acted as though they were old, fond acquaintances, no more and no less. That, more than anything else, brought on a rage of old hurt and new anger.
"Didn't you think to consult me before signing me up publicly for this wedding?" she asked scathingly, uncaring which man interpreted the question as directed towards him.
"Really, it'll only be a few hours of your time," Kaidou said in the indulgent tone of voice often used to humour a child. "The wedding's on July 20th."
She wished desperately that there weren't people around who'd be concerned if she suddenly started screaming.
It was not her.
The pallid, dark-haired girl in a cap and gown, whose summer was being dictated and coerced like a pawn in a chess game, was not her. The silent individual struggling futilely against the will of the two men who had broken her heart years ago was not her. It couldn't be her, because if it was happening to someone else, then she didn't have to care about it. And if she didn't care about it, it couldn't hurt her. The name mentioned in the society column article entitled "Rising Young Politician Richard Kaidou IV To Marry Wall Street Heiress Marguerite Emerson-Hale" was not hers. She hadn't gone by "Rachael", after all, in several years. It was not her, and this was not happening.
Except it was.
"So, we're all settled then," Raye's father phrased it as a statement rather than a question, and turned his unsmiling eyes and curved mouth upon her face. "Kaidou will make arrangements to pick you up for rehearsals, photo shoots, press interviews and the like. I daresay that your schedule in the summertime- in particular living in THAT neighbourhood with your grandfather- will be far more flexible than his. I expect that you will not disappoint me, and make a good impression upon the others you will come in contact with. Rachael- Rachael! Are you listening to me?"
There was a hand upon her back, and by the comforting smell of pine aftershave and tweed jackets, she knew it was her grandfather's, and she almost closed her eyes in relief. But because showing any weakness would just cause her father to demand an explanation that he'd pay no mind to and drag the surreal situation out even longer, she took a deep breath and looked up blankly at the Senator's face. It was smooth- no laugh lines or worry wrinkles as other fathers had- and polished, and handsome, and practically a stranger's. "Yes, I heard you," she said at length. "We need to head back. Just... do whatever. I don't care."
She turned sharply, trying her best to ignore the disapproving frown burning into the back of her neck and pretend that her last statement was true.
